And it doesn’t hurt that he knew my dad—and cared a great deal for him. I glance at him as we finish our breakfast cookies and my heart dips a little as I realize that I’m going to miss him when this is all over. When the handcuffs come off, will I ever see him again? Will he ever want to see me again?

Scanning his face, I try to read his eyes but there’s nothing familiar in their brown depths. He’s been like this all morning. Pensive. Anxious. I know we’re going to meet Eddie and his dad, but I don’t understand why that has him acting so nervous. The handsome happiness he almost always has on is locked away, somewhere behind the shadows passing his face, making me wish I knew how to take them away.

“So where am I going again?” I ask as we pull out of the driveway.

“The courthouse,” he says. “It’s on the north side of town. Just take the main road until you reach the turnoff by Wilcox Farm.”

We drive in silence. Every few minutes, I catch him staring at me. Sometimes his gives me a small smile and other times he quickly glances away.

Being with Daren last night was amazing. The way he touched me and moved against my body. I didn’t feel like a piece of meat in his arms. I felt like myself. I felt important. But now, even chained to his side, I feel a hundred miles away from him.

Daren clears his throat. “So about my dad…” he begins. “He’s uh… he’s not the most pleasant guy, so don’t let him bother you or freak out when we get there, okay?”

Now I’m nervous. “Why would I freak out?”

“I don’t know. I just… I haven’t seen my dad in almost a year. We weren’t on speaking terms when he went to jail, so I’m just not sure how he’ll react to me today.”

I nod. “Okay.”

This is obviously a big deal for Daren and the only reason I get to peek into this very personal part of his life is because of these stupid handcuffs. Shame sweeps over me as we drive. My desire for this inheritance has inadvertently made me intrude on his life.

From the corner of my eye, I see him stretch his neck and crack his knuckles. Anxiety rolls off him, filling my tiny car with a thick tension. I glance at our cuffed wrists. If there was no inheritance, I would be fine. I don’t need a lump of money to get my life in order. I’m smart and capable. Do I really want to force Daren to show me a part of his life that has him squirming? Am I that financially desperate?

I look at his profile and think about how he likes to cook and is working so hard to pay off a stranger’s medical bills. For all the beauty of his face and body, his heart is the most stunning thing about him. And here I am, using him to get money.

“Maybe we should swing by the hardware store and find some bolt cutters to snap these things off,” I suggest, lifting our joined wrists. “That way you can have some privacy with your dad.”

He looks taken aback. “But then we’d forfeit and you wouldn’t get any money.”

I shrug. “So what? It’s just money. I’ll make do.”

He stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “No. I can’t ask you to do that. Besides, it’ll be fine today. With my dad.” He gives me a lopsided smile that looks more strained than sincere. In fact, everything about him looks strained. His shoulders are rigid, his jaw is flexed, and his eyes are hard and distant. No smile in the world could mask the turmoil in his expression.

Stressed. Angry. Nervous. Afraid. His eyes flip from one emotion to the next, never settling.

My stomach twists in anguish, not for myself, but for him as he stares out the window and murmurs, “It will be fine.” A sure sign that it will be anything but.

28 Daren

Do you know how difficult it is to be granted entry into a public courthouse when you’re handcuffed to another person but not for legal reasons?

Pretty fucking impossible.

Kayla and I spent a good hour with the security guards, answering questions and giving recorded statements about why we’re handcuffed together explaining that, yes, we chose to be chained together and, no, we are not under duress.

Eddie came out at one point and helped smooth over some of the confusion. It took eight security guards, two police officers, and one notary public to get us cleared for entry, but we managed to make it inside.

And that wasn’t even the hard part.

The hard part was biting my tongue when I walked into the holding room and saw my dad laughing with the bailiff. He hasn’t taken any of this seriously since day one.

I glance at Kayla. She gives me an encouraging little smile and I quickly look away. She offered to cut off our handcuffs and forfeit her inheritance—an inheritance that would give her a better future—for me. And she didn’t even bat an eye.

No woman has offered to sacrifice something so important for me. I don’t know what to say. Or think. Or feel about Kayla right now. So I’m avoiding eye contact until I figure it out.

“Daren, my boy!” My dad waves at me with his cuffed wrists and smiles. “Like father like son, eh?”

I curl my lip. “I’m nothing like you.”

“Ouch.” He mocks a look of hurt. “Are you still pissed about Connor? Because you don’t have to pay his bills, you know. He can get a loan from the hospital or work with his insurance company—”

“No, Dad. Just—” I inhale. “Just no. Someone needs to pay for the medical care he needed because of your horrendous decision making. And it shouldn’t be the guy who just recently learned how to walk again.”

I purse my lips, thinking about the first time I saw Connor after the accident. It was the first court date and the poor guy was sitting in court in a body cast with two black eyes and a breathing tube sticking out of his neck. And my father wasn’t even fazed.

He sighs. “Then I guess you’re welcome to be that martyr. Sweet Jesus, is that little Kayla Turner?” Dad’s eyes light up as he looks Kayla over. “My goodness, girl. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hi, Mr. Ackwood.” She smiles politely.

“Call me Luke.” He smiles back. “Now why in the hell are you handcuffed to my son?”

She bites her lip. “Well, uh…”

“None of your business,” I say, taking a seat in one of the metal folding chairs on the other side of the table. I pull one out for Kayla as well and she sits beside me, crossing her legs.

She pulls her phone and a pair of earbuds from her purse and holds them up. “I’m just going to…” She puts the buds in her ears and soon I hear the distant sound of music streaming from her phone. I let out a silent sigh of relief, grateful she won’t have to listen to this conversation—however it may go.

I look at my dad. “Eddie tells me you’re refusing to plead guilty.”

“So that’s how it’s going to be, then?” he says, spitting the words out like I’ve greatly offended him. “You’re not going to speak to me for ten months, and then when you do come to see me, you come leashed to Kayla Turner without explanation and try to give me legal advice?” He laughs out loud. “Oh, my boy. That’s priceless.”

Eddie shuffles into the room, looking out of breath and a little bit sweaty. “Sorry. Sorry. I forgot which room number we were in and got a tad bit lost. But I’m here now!” He smiles.

My father says, “Eddie, why is my son handcuffed to Kayla Turner?”

Eddie frowns at me. “You haven’t found the money yet, I’m guessing?”

I shake my head. “Turner’s letter turned out to be more of a scavenger hunt. We’re still looking.”

Eddie makes a face of concern. “Oh my.”

Dad looks at me. “What in the hell does a scavenger hunt have to do with your handcuffs?”

I flex a muscle in my jaw. “Old Man Turner left us money in his will but we have to be handcuffed together until we find it.”

Dad laughs again. “Well isn’t that a kick in the pants? Chained to a pretty girl and searching for treasure.”