Ride the Fire by Jo Davis Page A

through her misery as she handed Eve a tissue. “Sweetie, what did he say to you? Was he mean?”
    Eve took it and wiped her face. “Would’ve been easier if he were. I can fight against mean, you know? But no, he was nice. He can’t drag me into the cesspool of his life, blah, blah. I’m an incredible woman, and, drumroll, ‘we’re still friends.’ ”
    “That bastard,” Zack hissed. “I’m gonna kill him.”
    “No!” Panic seized her. “You can’t let on that you know! If you do, the others will find out and things will get out of hand. Promise me you won’t say anything to him.”
    Her handsome, dark-haired friend visibly struggled with her request for several long moments before pinning her with laser blue eyes and giving her knee a squeeze. “All right. For you, I’ll keep it to myself—unless he asks for it by hurting you again.”
    “Thank you.” She gave him a hug, which he returned, hard.
    “I’m so sorry this happened,” he whispered into her hair.
    “It’s partly my fault. I knew what I was facing and I bit the apple anyway.”
    “How long have you loved him?”
    “Always.” Her voice shook. “Even when I had no right. And surprise , I still don’t.”
    “Are you really thinking of putting in for a transfer?”
    “Yeah. I think it’s for the best.” She straightened, letting go of him. “I can’t carry these feelings around with me anymore and face him every shift. It’s too hard, especially now.”
    His expression fell, became immeasurably sad. “I wish it didn’t have to come to that, but I understand.”
    “Thanks.”
    “When will you make the move?”
    “As soon as I tell him. Despite everything, or maybe because of it, he deserves to hear it from me, beforehand.” The very thought of leaving Station Five, her home these past several years, caused a hollow ache inside. But as she’d told Zack, it was partially her fault.
    “Stay and have some breakfast,” Cori offered. “We have bacon and eggs.”
    Eve’s stomach lurched. “There’s no way I could eat, but thank you, both of you.”
    “Coffee, then?” Zack’s jaw tightened in stubbornness. “You’re not going anywhere until we’re one hundred percent sure you’re all right.”
    In that case, she could be here for eternity.
    She mustered a wobbly smile. “Coffee sounds fine.”
    And so went the morning of turnabout, Eve doing her best to reassure her friends she was fine when nothing could be further from the truth. She was dying inside. Her love for Sean wasn’t just a festering secret anymore; it was an open, bleeding wound.
    And she was the one responsible for handing him the power to deliver it.

    Just look him straight in the eye and tell him. What can he do? Nothing.
    Eve parked behind Sean’s Tahoe, and got out, tough outer shell in place. For the most part. She’d been shredded, but the visit with Zack and Cori had gone a long way toward patching up the ragged seams to where they were almost invisible to the naked eye. Sort of like putting wall plaster over a crack in the Hoover Dam.
    She left her purse in the car and locked up. This wasn’t going to take long.
    At the front door, she rang the bell and waited. After a few moments she tried again, and still no sign of Sean. Of course he wouldn’t come to the door and let her get this over with, especially when her nerves were shot. Always the hard way with Sean.
    A nicker from around back caught her ear and she tensed. If he was outside, even better. Might make this go quicker and make for a faster exit. Leaving the porch, she walked around the side of the house. As soon as she rounded the corner, she saw his long, lean form sprawled in a lounger, the backrest propped upright. His head was back, and as she got closer, she saw his eyes were open, staring at the pasture and the horses, who were observing her approach curiously.
    Her running shoes were making plenty of noise crunching through the grass, so she couldn’t imagine why he hadn’t