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  His

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  Dark

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2020 by Publishing Bloom LLC

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781542018890

  ISBN-10: 1542018897

  Cover design by Caroline Teagle Johnson

  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1 MIRANDA

  Chapter 2 NICK

  Chapter 3 MIRANDA

  Chapter 4 NICK

  Chapter 5 MIRANDA

  Chapter 6 NICK

  Chapter 7 MIRANDA

  Chapter 8 NICK

  Chapter 9 MIRANDA

  Chapter 10 NICK

  Chapter 11 MIRANDA

  Chapter 12 NICK

  Chapter 13 MIRANDA

  Chapter 14 NICK

  Chapter 15 MIRANDA

  Chapter 16 NICK

  Chapter 17 MIRANDA

  Chapter 18 NICK

  Chapter 19 MIRANDA

  Chapter 20 NICK

  Chapter 21 MIRANDA

  Chapter 22 NICK

  Chapter 23 MIRANDA

  Chapter 24 NICK

  Chapter 25 MIRANDA

  Chapter 26 NICK

  Chapter 27 MIRANDA

  Chapter 28 NICK

  Chapter 29 MIRANDA

  Epilogue MIRANDA

  Epilogue NICK

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter 1

  MIRANDA

  If I closed my eyes and listened to the clatter of falling bowling pins, the dated soundtrack of easy nineties hits, and the hum of arcade machines, I could imagine I’d slipped back seven years. Almost. If I’d really stepped into the past, I’d feel the slight pressure of a pair of boring granny panties digging into my cheeks. I would also be wearing the infamous cardigan-and-camisole combination I’d thought was the height of fashion.

  Nowadays, I was far more sophisticated. I’d traded the granny panties for ass floss and the cardigans for silky blouses and power jackets. I’d learned to stop apologizing for being intelligent and hardworking. My philosophy was that I needed to feel like I could step into any office in America, bust down the door, and start kicking corporate booty. Figuratively, at least. I’d tried self-defense classes once, and the only technique I was halfway proficient at was blowing the rape whistle.

  I looked down at the soggy paper tray of nachos in my left hand and the hamburger and fries in my right. I even had a water bottle awkwardly wedged between my elbow and my side. Tonight, I wasn’t a door kicker. I was the third wheel—or, more technically, the fifth wheel—on a double date.

  The more I thought about it, the more the sounds around me stopped feeling nostalgic. All they did was remind me of how different I was now—how much things had changed, and maybe not all for the better.

  I could hear the deep laughter of Cade King and the rumble of his twin brother’s voice, even over all the chaos. That was enough to snap me into full awareness as surely as an ice-cold toilet seat at three in the morning.

  Just down the short stairway leading to the bowling alley, my two best friends, Kira and Iris, were smiling and laughing at something Cade had said. It was getting harder and harder to be a good person—the kind of friend who would see their happiness and smile right along with them. Instead, watching them have fun felt almost accusatory. They had figured it out. They had found that special someone. So what did that say about me if my life seemed to be cracking apart at the foundations?

  Be glad for them, Miranda. I repeated the thought a few dozen times in the hope that it’d overpower my gloominess. After all, why shouldn’t they be happy? Iris still worked as a cop, even though she’d recently paired off with Cade. Kira still loved her job as a teacher, and she was in a seemingly perfect relationship with Richard King. They’d found their happily ever afters—their kisses on the beach with one foot kicked up behind them. So what if I was currently buried up to the neck on that same beach while little crabs made nests in my hair and seagulls stole my food? At least I could be glad my friends weren’t screwed too.

  A young kid who looked around middle school age bumped into me. I spun, did a teetering balancing act, and watched helplessly as Cade and Iris’s nachos fell to the carpet.

  “Sorry, dude,” the kid said in a tone that was so far from apologetic it was actually insulting. He looked up at me with a strange mixture of confidence and blind panic, then dabbed. I expected him to run off, but he just stood there, looking at me.

  I glanced down at the nachos and felt a swirl of unexpectedly strong emotions swelling up. The kid was watching me curiously, almost like he knew something was about to happen.

  Normally, I would’ve composed myself, pushed down any emotions I felt, and handled this like a proper woman.

  Normally.

  I lunged forward and started stomping the nachos. For a few seconds, all I saw was pure-white rage. I stomped so hard it sent shock waves up my leg and made my knees hurt. When I was done, there was just a cheesy, crumby paste on the ground.

  I stared down at the mess in numb fascination. “Taco salad,” I whispered.

  The kid was still staring at me, but his jaw had dropped. “You’re a psycho.”

  “Listen, you little turd. I just got out of a long-term relationship a week ago. And yesterday? I lost my job. Do you have any idea what it feels like when everybody thinks you’re so perfect? Can you imagine what it’s like when you realize one day that you’re trapped in someone else’s illusion? That your whole identity is dictated by the expectations of a stupid small town and your friends, but you’re in too deep to do anything about it?”

  The boy thought about that, then his eyebrows scrunched up. “I play this online game, and I told a girl I met that I was in high school and the captain of the football team. She wants to meet in person now.”

  I sighed. “Those were rhetorical questions. The point was you bumped into me and made me drop my nachos. You saw what I did to those nachos when they pissed me off, didn’t you? What do you think I’ll do to you?”

  For a second, I thought he was about to cry, but then I saw him start to lift his arms.

  “And don’t you dare dab at me again,” I warned.

  The kid turned an
d ran. I couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying, but I felt like I’d lost my mind either way.

  “Wow,” Cade said.

  Apparently, he had been watching everything from the stairs at my side. He clapped his hands slowly. “Amazing. That was really just amazing. Oh, and is it okay if I grab one of these, or should I worry about what you’ll do to me?”

  “If you repeat any of that to anyone, I’ll—”

  “Stomp me?” he asked. He bent down, fished out a miraculously intact nacho, and popped it into his mouth. “Don’t worry. I enjoy dramatic irony. If I told everybody Little Miss Perfect was actually falling apart on the inside, watching you struggle to keep up appearances wouldn’t be nearly as fun. Secret’s safe with me. But, really, you could’ve at least given him some advice about his online girlfriend. That was just rude.”

  Cade casually headed back down to our bowling lane to take his turn, as if he hadn’t just witnessed me having a mental breakdown. Clearly, something inside me had become unhinged, and I was only barely holding it all together. I had never been the type of person to let my stress show—or be a jerk to little kids, for that matter. If there were an Olympic event for internalizing problems and putting on a calm face for the world, I would’ve been the most decorated gold medalist in history by now. I let out a slow, controlled breath. I could absolutely do this. I’d even gone as far as writing it down this morning as a daily goal: Survive bowling night with the happy couples. Show no weakness. Do not get grilled on the breakup, and do not talk about getting laid off.

  Easy. Everything in the world was easy if you pretended it was. Cade was a slight hitch in the plan, but I believed him. He’d keep quiet, and nobody had to know I didn’t have everything under control. I repeated that to myself as I resumed my slow walk back to our lane.

  Calm face, Miranda. Calm face. It was just like losing both of my thumbs and one eye but then having to watch all my friends give thumbs-up and carefree, happy little winks to everyone they saw. Sure, I’d be happy for them, but I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how it was not winking if you had only one eye. All I’d ever have was blinking, and wasn’t there something tragic about that?

  Iris noticed me coming and pretended to jog toward me in slow motion. She also started saying something unintelligible in slow motion, complete with exaggerated tongue movements like she was a dog with her head out the window of a moving car.

  I waited impatiently for the full minute it took her to travel a couple of feet. To her credit, she stuck with the slow-motion theme all the way through the part where she noticed I didn’t have any nachos.

  “Hey,” she said. “Where are the nachos?”

  “Maybe I ate them,” I said dryly.

  Iris laughed. “Damn. What crawled up your ass and converted it into a rental property?”

  I must’ve looked particularly pathetic, because Iris’s eyebrows scrunched together, and she put her hands on my shoulders. “Hey,” she said more softly. “Are you okay?”

  As much as I wanted to smile and nod, I knew Iris would see straight through the lie. “A kid ran into me and made me drop them. Then I stomped them into the ground and made him run off laughing or crying—I’m still not sure which. Okay? And I was really mean to him. I normally like kids. So stop interrogating me about it. That’s everything.”

  Iris looked like she was trying to keep a straight face, but she wound up laughing. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’m picturing you stomping the nachos. What was going through your head, exactly?”

  I put my hands on my hips. I wanted to be mad at her for laughing, but I couldn’t stop myself from smiling too.

  “But really. Why did you stomp them?” she asked.

  “Because I was pissed? Can we talk about something else?”

  “Iris,” Cade called. “Your turn.” I didn’t fail to notice the wink he gave me. Helpful bastard.

  “Are you winning yet?” I asked Iris.

  Iris turned and squinted at the scoreboard, where the names of our little group were on display. If there was any doubt of my fifth-wheel status, all I needed to do was check out the scoreboard. Cade and Iris had entered themselves as a team named “Snakes on a Lane.” They had even come up with a cringeworthy handshake where it looked like they were trying to pretend their arms were snakes in some sort of fight, complete with hissing sound effects. At least it would’ve been cringeworthy if Cade wasn’t so obnoxiously confident. He probably could’ve pretended to be a chicken in the middle of a crowded room, and women still would’ve swooned.

  In typical Richard King fashion, he and Kira had gone with a more down-to-earth team name: “Rich and Kira.”

  Then there was me. I’d tried to enter my name without a team designation, but Cade had gone to the liberty of editing it while I was making a food run. I was apparently now a member of the “Rolling Solo” team. Great.

  “Yessss,” Iris said in a poor impression of a snake. “Sssseems we’re going to win.”

  “You are such a dork,” I said. I was too annoyed to want to laugh, but I couldn’t help at least smiling a little. No matter how lost I felt at the moment, the one thing that had always been an anchor in my life was my friendship with Kira and Iris.

  “Then you’re going to lose to a dork,” Iris said. “What does that make you?”

  “Bad at bowling?” I guessed.

  Iris took a fry from Rich and Kira’s tray, burned her mouth, and strung together a creative line of swear words. “Thanks for warning me they were hotter than Satan’s asshole.”

  “Maybe you should stop trying to steal other people’s food. It’s karma,” I said. “I’d also be curious to know how you have experience with the temperature of Satan’s rectum.”

  “Rectum,” she said, laughing. “You’re such a proper dork.” Iris reached for another fry. I swatted at her wrist, and she pulled her hand back, then shot me a dirty look. “You can’t control me.”

  I rolled my eyes. I found a spot on the cracked-leather bench behind our alley and sat down. I set Rich and Kira’s food to the side and watched as Iris joined into an argument Cade and Kira were in. They were debating if it was against the rules for Cade to lie on his belly and push the ball instead of doing it like a normal human being. He was getting way too far into character as a snake.

  “You good?” Rich asked.

  “I’m fine,” I said. I still wasn’t used to talking to any of the King brothers. Seven years ago, I’d sworn an oath with Kira and Iris. We said we’d never date them again, no matter what. Even if they came back on their knees and begged us to forgive them for what they put us through—even if they wound up famous and dripping with cash. Apparently, my friends had decided solemn oaths sworn on hilltops in the dead of night were negotiable. I guessed I’d missed that particular memo. Now the oath that held the three of us together felt more like an anchor tied around my neck.

  “I’ve just been thinking about everything lately,” I said.

  It was almost silly for me to even care anymore. It would be different if Nick King had shown any interest in me since coming back to West Valley, but he seemed content to take over his brother Cade’s role of the town playboy. It still turned my stomach to think about. The Nick I’d known seven years ago was thoughtful and intelligent. He didn’t jump from woman to woman for a quick thrill. I knew people changed, but looking at who he was becoming felt more like admitting the boy I’d known back then was dead. The only glimmer of solace I could take was the rumor about how he was becoming notorious for never sleeping with any of the women he was dating. I wasn’t sure if I believed it, but it was confusing to find I wanted to.

  Rich was the put-together, mostly normal twin brother of Cade. Like all the King brothers, he was offensively hot. They were like the three brothers of the apocalypse, at least if apocalypses could be caused by raging female hormones. Rich would bring destruction to all the women with traditional taste. He was smart, funny, and kind. He’d charm your mom and dad, be great with t
he kids, and probably help fix your dad’s 401(k) while he was at it. Cade would charm your mom in particular, piss off your dad, and wind up talking one of the kids into doing something reckless that resulted in broken bones.

  The Nick I’d known in high school was harder to figure out. He had seemed nice enough, but there was also a dark cloud around him if you looked closely. You’d never quite known what his goals were, but he was so viciously intelligent that we’d all known he was destined for something incredible.

  “Thinking about everything, huh?” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “People don’t usually think about everything unless it feels like everything is going to shit, I’ve found.”

  I laughed softly. “Fair point. And maybe that’s not so far from the truth.”

  He raised an eyebrow. I couldn’t blame him for looking surprised. The few sentences I’d muttered to him had probably been the most open I’d ever been with him. I wasn’t even sure why I suddenly wanted to confide in him. Normally, I would’ve at least talked to Kira or Iris about this. For some reason, I felt the floodgates threatening to open for Rich instead. Maybe it was knowing that Cade, of all people, was the only person who really knew what was going on with me. Well, Cade and the traumatized middle school kid.

  I sighed. “It’s just that I was kind of used to the idea of having steady boyfriend checked off my list. You know? My whole life has always been about checking off boxes. Get good grades. Get into my first choice for college. Get a degree. Get a job. Get promoted. Work harder until you get promoted again.”

  Rich nodded. “At some point, you realize it’s not how many boxes you check, but which ones you check, and how well you check them.”

  Now it was my eyebrows that crept up. “Spoken like somebody with experience.”

  Rich flashed a smile that didn’t completely make me decide to start liking him, but it came close. “Why do you think I suddenly dropped everything to come to West Valley and win Kira back?” he asked.

  “Kira said you never admitted she was the reason you came back. I thought the official story was something about business opportunities on the East Coast.”

  Rich looked a little coy. “Maybe letting you in on that little secret will get you to stop glaring at me all the time.”