In a foster home where seven kids lived, you rarely encountered silence. Everything felt too still, unnaturally stagnant. It took a lot to intimidate a foster kid who at sixteen had seen the inside of more than ten homes over the course of a decade, but something menacing hung in the air, slowing his footsteps.

Reaching the top of the landing, he heard a scrape to his left, coming from inside his current foster parents’ room. In their late fifties, the Wickhams made a career out of housing orphans. He’d seen his share of bad foster parents, but they were some of the rare good ones. He’d been in the house for six months, a decent stretch considering his history. In that time they’d actually made a point to show up to his baseball games when they could. Even the meals were decent. He didn’t have a single complaint. So he kept his head down and hoped he didn’t do anything to get sent away.

Daniel heard the scrape once more and with a gulp of apprehension, decided to investigate. When he pushed open the door to the Wickhams’ bedroom, it took him a moment to register the scene before him. On one side of the room stood a pale-faced Mr. Wickham with his hands in the air. His nervous eyes were trained on the bony teenage girl across the room, pointing a gun at him.

Nora. At the same age, they shared some classes at school and had become quick friends. He didn’t make friends easily, so the easy companionship he’d found with Nora meant a lot to him. She had an easy laugh and Daniel pretended not to notice the grief behind her eyes, nor did he ask about it. Avoidance had always been his defense mechanism. I won’t ask you if you don’t ask me. Orphan survival guide, page one. At least in his book.

Now, her pretty features were twisted, the hand holding the gun shaking violently. She spared a split-second glance for Daniel as he entered the room and came to a halt, raising his own hands on pure instinct.

“What’s gotten into you, Nora? Put that gun down,” Mr. Wickham commanded her. “I don’t want to call Social Services and get them involved. You put it down now and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

“I don’t want to pretend it never happened,” Nora gritted out. “I’m tired of pretending things didn’t happen!” She screamed the final two words and Mr. Wickham flinched.

Risking another step into the room, Daniel saw three foster kids, all younger than him, cowering behind Mr. Wickham, wide eyes focused on Nora. Two girls and one boy. One of the girls, Opal, held her head in her hands, rocking back and forth on the wood floor.

It became clear to Daniel that if she fired that gun at Mr. Wickham, one of the kids might get hit by mistake. With her hand trembling and tears clouding her vision, she could easily miss her target, even though he stood ten feet away.

Nora was a smart, reasonable girl. He just needed to talk to her, remind her that they only had to deal with foster parent bullshit until they turned eighteen and then the world would be theirs. No more packing and being shuffled around like old furniture twice a year. No more pitying looks from teachers or sharing a bedroom with three strangers. They’d be able to dictate their own lives.

“Nora, I think you should put the gun down. If you fire that thing, you might hit one of the kids.”

She jerked at the sound of his voice, but kept the gun leveled at Mr. Wickham. Just that momentary glimpse of her wild eyes told Daniel the situation was more serious than he’d originally thought. He didn’t see any trace of the Nora he knew. Almost like the sweet girl who saved Daniel all of her red Skittles had disappeared and been replaced by a hysterical version of herself.

“Maybe it would be for the best,” she answered, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “They wouldn’t have to live here anymore. Or live this life anymore. Or anything anymore!”

Daniel knew exactly what she meant. When you went to sleep every night never knowing what tomorrow held, the strain could get to you. If you let it build or thought about it too much, you would eventually snap. And Nora apparently had.

He tried a different approach, attempting a conversational tone. “You know this is only temporary. You want to be a veterinarian, remember? You shoot somebody and they probably won’t let you into veterinary school.”

“Oh God, oh God! It’s never going to happen. You think anything ever happens for us? It doesn’t. Stop pretending!” She swiped her runny nose across her shoulder. “This is not temporary. It’s going to follow us around for the rest of our lives.”

Opal had started wailing behind Mr. Wickham, curling into the fetal position. She was too young to realize her crying would only agitate Nora further. Mr. Wickham’s eyes darted between Daniel and Nora, but he didn’t speak, apparently depending on Daniel to talk Nora out of shooting him. A heavy weight pushed down on Daniel’s shoulders as the reality of that sank in.

“Look, at least let the kids leave. Please. They didn’t do anything wrong.”

She laughed bitterly. “We didn’t do anything wrong either and look at us. I know you’re not as happy as you pretend to be. I see right through you, Daniel. You’re just as scared as I am.”

Despite the painful shock of her words, he experienced a sense of relief. Her eyes were returning to normal, her voice regaining its regular pitch. If he just talked to her a little more, he would calm her down completely and she would put down the gun.

“You’re right, okay? I’m scared, too. This sucks. It all sucks. But we don’t have a choice. We just have to get through it.” Opal’s wails had subsided into quiet sobs. He pushed once more. “Let the kids leave.”

Irritation flashed in her face. “Fine!”

All three kids jumped to their feet and fled the room.

Before Daniel could speak, Mr. Wickham edged toward Nora. “All right, now. Just hand over the gun. Whatever you’re upset about, we can figure out a way to make it better.”

The frenzied look entered her eyes once more and Daniel wanted to shout at Mr. Wickham. He’d nearly succeeded in bringing her back to reality and in one second, all his progress had been ruined.

“Oh, sure. You’re the ones who’ll finally figure me out, right? Make the past disappear for me?” Her voice sounded flat. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Suddenly the gun steadied in her hand. “You are both liars. Just like the rest of them.”

She cocked the gun.

“No!” Daniel yelled.

Too late. The gun exploded, lodging a bullet in Mr. Wickham’s chest. He looked down at the bullet wound before dropping to the floor, blood blooming across the front of his shirt.

Nora locked eyes with Daniel. And he knew.

“Nora, put the gun down.”

“I can’t.”

Then she pointed it at him.

Chapter Ten

“Daniel, wake up!” Story grabbed on to Daniel’s sweat-slicked shoulders and shook him. “It’s okay, you’re just dreaming. Wake up and look at me.”

Startled into wakefulness by the sound of his tortured voice, she’d been briefly terrified before the events of the evening finally caught up with her. Realizing she must have fallen asleep waiting for Daniel to return, she felt momentary surprise that he’d decided to stay the night even though nothing had happened between them. After that, there’d been no time to think.

Daniel continued to mutter the name “Nora” over and over, growing increasingly agitated the longer his dream went on. The sheets twisted around his hips as he thrashed on the bed. Her heart threatened to break at the sight of him in such distress, and she immediately set her focus on breaking him free of the nightmare.

She released one of his shoulders and placed a cool hand on his cheek, repeating his name softly until his eyes eventually opened in the near-darkness. For long moments, he still seemed lost in the dream, until her fingers reached up to brush the hair from his forehead. His eyes seemed to go from unsettled to focused then, under her touch.

Satisfied that Daniel hurting himself was no longer a threat, she reached across his body and turned on the bedside lamp, bathing them in soft light. His bare chest rose and fell with shuddering breaths beneath her, reminding her they were both mostly naked. In the dark, with him half-asleep, it hadn’t mattered so much, but now in the light they could see every inch of each other. Nothing she hadn’t shown him just hours before, but an eight-martini buzz had gone a long way in curbing her modesty.

Blushing, she pushed off his chest with the intention of burying herself under the covers, but he grabbed her wrist to prevent her, his grip like steel. Story’s eyes shot to his, startled by the intense emotions swirling in them, his agonized gaze riveted on her face. He looked perilously close to the edge, the effects of the dream etched into his features. Every muscle in his chest and arms felt tight with strain against her body, as if his control could snap at any moment.

The instinct to soothe him rose within her, so powerful she stopped breathing.

Swallowing with difficulty, she tried to ignore the way their bodies were locked together, her breasts pressed against his chest. He needed comfort, and all she could think of was straddling his hips and riding out the frustration he’d stirred in her last night.

Daniel made no attempt to ignore their intimate position, however, his gaze lighting on everywhere their bodies touched. His breathing accelerated, only this time it couldn’t be attributed to his nightmare. Against her thigh, she felt his erection swelling larger and more demanding with each breath. No longer able to ignore the dizzying lust clouding the air between them, she gave in to the urge to press a kiss to his chest, then raised her head to look at him.