“Headaches,” I went on. “It started with that. She just thought they were headaches. Couldn’t get rid of one for three days, she went to the doctor. In three more days, she knew she had a brain tumor. In three months, she was dead.”

Preacher stood still as a statue.

“And I’d met this guy, right? He listened to me in the dark. He shared with me in the dark. My guy.”

I pounded my chest so hard, it made a noise, and his head jerked a little to the side with his flinch.

“My guy, except he doesn’t call me. He promises he’s gonna be back for my birthday, and then he’s not. Months and months, he doesn’t call me until he rolls into town and I think he wants in my pants, except, you see, I don’t have time to let him have that because I’m burying my mother.”

I was breathing really hard as I made to move around him.

“You can keep the coat,” I spat.

And then he was in front of me.

“Baby.”

I kept going, sidestepping him toward the door.

“Keep away from me, Preacher.”

“Lyla.”

I was almost to the door.

He wrapped his fingers around my arm.

I whirled on him. “Take your hand off me!”

“I didn’t know.”

“You thought I came up here because you’re opening for the Mustangs? I hate the Mustangs. They suck. Petty wannabes. And Petty sucks!”

“Now, cher, don’t be talkin’ smack about Petty,” he muttered.

Was he serious?

“Get your hand off me, Preacher McCade.”

“Come back into the room. Let’s talk.”

“We are not talking.”

“Lyla—”

I got up on my toes, as close to his face as I could get, and snapped, “Screw you! I needed to talk to you a year ago. I needed you when she was diagnosed. I needed you when she was dying. I needed you when Dad started pulling his crap.”

“What’d your dad try to do?” he growled.

“He didn’t try to do it. He did do it. He’s got Julia.”

His face turned to stone, then it gentled, and he tried to pull me to him, murmuring, “Baby.”

I pulled hard back, got free, slammed against the door, banging my head.

And then I was in his arms.

Oh God.

Oh God.

Those arms.

Those strong arms.

They felt so good.

I couldn’t bear it.

My legs gave out and I started crying.

Bawling.

God!

He somehow got me across the room and on the couch, and I pushed at him and tried to pull away.

But he clamped on tight, fell sideways, I went with him, then he rolled on top and he was heavy.

A heavy that felt awesome.

Damn it.

“Okay, Lyla, okay, cher, cool it enough to tell me what’s happening.”