“He wants me to lose something I love, to feel what it’s like.”

 “Is that why you bought Ria when we pretended to be engaged?”

 “Yes. I wanted you to be protected when I couldn’t be with you. That’s why I only went out with women who would be able to move on when Bridge grew tired of me waiting to fall in love. He doesn’t know that I found what I was searching for. I found that out when you nearly died, when Ria gave her life for yours.”

 “What did you find?”

 “I found home. You were what I had been searching for all along. I didn’t want you hurt because of me, yet you almost died. None of us know how long we have on this earth.”

 Lucky stood up, coming to sit down next to her with his back to the table. Reaching into the picnic basket, he took out a ring box.

 “I love you, Willa. Will you marry me?”

 “Am I dreaming? I’m afraid, if I say yes, I’ll wake up.”

 Lucky opened the ring box, showing her the large, pink diamond in the rose gold setting that she had fallen in love with all those months ago. The tiny diamonds twinkled up at her in a starburst of color as he slid the ring onto her finger, closing his hand around hers.

 “No. This is as real as it gets.” He kissed her with a passion that was able to convince her that her body wasn’t asleep.

 “I guess this is my lucky day,” she teased.

 He winced at her pun, looking up at the bright blue sky. “I have another question to ask God when you see Him.”

 “What?”

 “How many times I’ve heard that before.”

Chapter 22

 “Bitch, you didn’t just carry those cupcakes in here?” Sex Piston paused while blow-drying a pretty blonde whom Willa once would have been envious of as she set a bright pink box on Sex Piston’s reception desk.

 “Is it me or does this box get a brighter shade of pink every time I see one?” Killyama asked, opening the box to take out one of the cupcakes.

 “I keep experimenting with the color. I thought you girls could use a treat while Sex Piston does my hair.” Willa smiled.

 Killyama stared down at the box as she ate her cupcake. “You chose this shade of pink deliberately? Pink is pink, bitch.”

 The comment didn’t hurt her feelings. She knew she was a little OCD over her boxes. She was in search of the perfect shade of pink; therefore, she ordered a different color each time she ordered boxes.

 “Do you know how many shades of pink there are? It’s hard to pick just one.”

 “My ass doesn’t need another cupcake!” Crazy Bitch wailed as she teased a woman’s hair.

 Willa laughed. “I say that all the time.”

 “Give me five, and I’ll be with you,” Sex Piston told her.

 “Take your time.” Willa started to take a seat, nearly tripping when she saw Sissy sweeping the floor. The girl had stopped to glare at her.

 “What are you doing here? I thought you left with Travis.” Willa started to give the girl a hug then stopped when she saw the reaction on her face.

 Killyama took a chair that was near where Sissy was sweeping.

 “I turned eighteen. I can do what the hell I want to now.”

 “She showed up here last week, asking to work here, so I hired her to run errands.” Sex Piston frowned at the girl.

 Willa had seen enough instances of kindness from Sex Piston to not be surprised. She watched over her biker bitches like a sister, and as a result, she would have recognized, like Willa, that Sissy was crying silently for help. Sissy wouldn’t take it from her, but maybe she would from Sex Piston.

 “What about Leanne and your cousins; don’t you miss them?”

 “Miss all the tantrums and snotty noses? No, I don’t.” Sissy started sweeping again.

 Willa bit her lip. She should ignore the girl and go sit down, but Willa couldn’t stop the need within her to somehow reach the girl.

 “I miss them all the time. Caroline and Chrissy are getting bigger every day. Leanne has a crush on one of the work hands—”

 Sissy laughed at her, leaning on the broom. “Do you really think you’re going to fool me? You may fool all of them”—she waved her hand at the women in the shop—“but I know what kind of woman you really are. You’re a murderer and a slut!” the young woman spat at her.

 As Willa gasped at the hatred on Sissy’s face, Killyama jumped up to stand in front of Willa, but she stepped around her.

 “I wish every day I wasn’t responsible for taking your uncle’s life, but I’m not a slut,” Willa said firmly.

 “I saw the text messages you sent. My uncle would get me to babysit when he went out to meet you at a hotel.”

 Willa shook her head. “I never met your uncle at a hotel once.”

 “You’re lying!”

 “Why would I lie? If I were sleeping with someone, I wouldn’t care who knew. It’s not like a woman gets in trouble for that.”

 “You want to keep your image up in town.”

 “What image?” Willa gave a bark of sarcastic laughter. “I was made fun of in high school. I never had a date until Lucky asked me out a few months ago. I never had friends until Lily, Beth, and Rachel felt sorry enough to include me. People never even talked to me in church unless they wanted me to bake them something.”

 “Lewis was in love with you!”

 “Lewis wanted me to be his babysitter, and he wanted the money my business brought in.” Willa sighed. “You want the truth, Sissy, but the thing about the truth is it can be twisted to anyone’s advantage. I don’t know whose text messages you read, but they weren’t mine. I never texted Lewis.” Willa paused then admitted, “I hated him. I was so afraid of him I bought the gun to protect myself. He managed to almost rape me, and if a customer hadn’t shown up to pick up a cake, he would have.”

 “No!”

 Willa stared at her in sympathy. “If you don’t believe me, ask Angus Berry. I don’t know how he managed it, but he did. I was so embarrassed and afraid of Lewis that I asked him not to tell anyone. I bought a gun the next day.”

 “Why would Lewis lie to me?” Doubt was beginning to show in Sissy’s eyes.

 “I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to keep who he was really having an affair with secret. Only Lewis knows the answer to that question.”

 “And he’s dead.”

 “That, I accept responsibility for. I don’t know if I would have been able to pull the trigger to save myself, but I couldn’t let him kill Rachel.”

 “My mom hated you.”

 “Yes, she did, from the time we were in grade school.”

 “Why?”

 Willa looked away from Sissy. She had never admitted to a living soul why Georgia hated her so much, but she remembered it as if it had happened yesterday.

 “We were in second grade homeroom together, and it was Valentine’s Day. I had stayed up the night before to make a Valentine box. It was very pretty,” Willa said modestly. “The teacher placed mine next to Georgia’s, and the children in the class weren’t very nice. They made fun of hers.” Willa blinked back tears at the cruelty of the other children. “When we came back from lunch, my box was lying in pieces. The teacher tried to blame Georgia, but I told her I had done it, that I wanted to count my valentines.”