Recovery by Nicole Dykes (top 5 books to read .txt) 📕

“Nothing ever changes.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

I want to believe his words, believe that someday there will be less crime, that human beings will treat each other with decency. But everything I’ve seen up until now makes that thought seem hopeless.

“It is, Jase. I want out of the city. I want to feel safe.” Like I do in his arms.

I try to push that thought away, though, because this is temporary. This will fade. He’ll grow tired of my attitude.

“There’s good and bad everywhere. It doesn’t matter where you live, Mya. But if you want to live in a small town after the hell you’ve been through, living in the city, I get that.”

I let more tears fall before wiping them away. “I miss him.” My voice shatters talking about Trey. “I miss him so much.”

He hugs me to him again, resting his chin on my head. “I know.”

There’s nothing left to say, nothing I haven’t told him.

I resent the safety his arms provide.

Temporary.

It’s only temporary.

Jesus, I knew it was bad, but not that bad. Who the fuck shoots a kid? I feel her agony but have no idea how to help her, so I just hold her.

If I could take away her pain, I would in a heartbeat.

“Do they know who did it?”

Her head shakes, and it’s still buried in my chest. “No,” she scoffs, jaded and tired. “They’re never going to find out. People around where I grew up, they don’t talk to the police. They don’t rat.”

“Even if it’s about an innocent kid’s murder?”

I feel her tense and think maybe I should just shut up, but her head tips to look up at me. “It doesn’t matter who the victim is, there’s always someone protecting the wicked.”

I have to believe justice will be served. My dad was a fireman in a small town. He was friends with a lot of cops, a lot of good men. Men who checked in on me and my mom after he died. I have to believe they’d want to solve a murder, but I’m not naïve. I’ve seen the news and have been in Nashville for years. Murders go unsolved all the time. Corrupt shit happens.

“I’m sorry, Mya.” There’s nothing else to say about it, no way to make her feel better. He’s gone, and she blames herself.

“You go to meetings because you feel guilty about the wreck?”

It’s a question but said like a statement because she already knows the answer. “Yeah. I think about it all the time. How I could have ruined people’s lives.”

My stomach clenches, thinking about my first thought after the wreck. What my father would think. First responders who knew him were at the scene. He gave his life to save others, and I could have taken innocent lives.

“Sometimes I think that maybe the guy who killed Trey feels guilty about it.”

I kiss the top of her head as I think about her statement. “How could he not?”

Her eyes meet mine. “Not everyone is as good as you, Jase. Some people are just bad.”

“It had to be an accident, right? I mean, there’s no way your brother was an actual target. Maybe they were aiming for someone else or being stupid and reckless. Who knows? But maybe there’s enough guilt they’ll turn themselves in.”

“I can’t let myself hope for that. I’ve seen it too many times. No one comes forward.”

We stay quiet. Her head rests against me yet again, and I try to change the subject. “Tell me about Charity.”

I feel her smiling against me before she lifts her head to look at me. “She was my best friend since we were tiny. Both born on the shitty side of town to people who should have never had kids.” Her smile brightens. “Still, she managed to be so carefree, and she had this insanely infectious smile.”

It’s so damn good to see Mya have fond memories when it seemed like they were all dark.

“She always found a way to be happy, no matter what. I was always the serious one.”

“She just left?”

Her smile fades now. “Yeah. She’d been in a horrible home. She wouldn’t talk about it or tell me what happened to her there. She became distant, and then she just disappeared on her eighteenth birthday. Not even a good-bye.”

Jesus, her fucking story is heartbreaking. “Nothing since?”

“No. I tried to file a missing persons report, but they said she was a runaway.”

I try to tread lightly. I don’t know Charity, and I’m sure it’s a sore subject. “Do you think she did? If she was living in a bad place, I mean?”

Her shoulder lifts. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“I won’t leave.” Her eyes meet mine, and I see her swallow when she sees I’m serious. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But I am.”

I still can’t wrap my mind around that. I think I’m hoping she’ll change her mind, but even after only knowing Mya for a little while, I know that’s unlikely.

“I couldn’t help Charity. I couldn’t help Trey. I just want to escape, never get close to anyone again and fail them again.”

“I can’t imagine you failing at anything. The world seems to have failed you, and the system did as well, but not you. You’re as close to perfect as I can imagine.”

Her lips brush over mine, and I feel her smile against my lips. “I’m not perfect.”

“To me, you are.”

I didn’t expect anything like this. I’ve dated a few women. I’ve had one-night-stands. But nothing in this world has ever compared to her.

It’s been a couple of months since I gave in and finally told Jase the whole story about Trey. Since then, I’ve told Quinn and Logan too. They, of course, didn’t know what to say, but it was always a cold reality in the neighborhood where we lived.

I don’t think they were shocked to their core like Jase was. Still, he doesn’t seem to look at me any differently.

I’ve tried