Night Falls on the Wicked - By Sharie Kohler Page 0,2

or deserving love. She wanted love, romance. A family, children of her own. She deserved it as much as the next person, but it was never going to happen. It was a beautiful dream. A fantasy.

Reality, sadly, didn’t offer any of those things for her. She contented herself with the past—with what little romance she’d had then. Bradley, her off-again, on-again boyfriend through high school. He’d been a good kisser. Had bought her a lovely watch she still owned. And there had been the occasional dates in college. That was all she would ever have.

“Good for Corey,” she murmured, fighting back the acrid taste of jealously rising up in her throat. To go out on an actual date. To feel a man’s hand on the small of her back as they walked through a crowded room. Darby couldn’t deny missing that. Among other things.

Maggie tossed her hands up in the air. “I give up.”

Darby grabbed a tub and moved to the table—the familiar need for distance surging back inside her again—and started collecting dishes. She worked quickly, ready to get off her feet and curl up on her couch. The solitude of her cozy room above the diner beckoned. Better that than this—surrounding herself with people that she had to forever and always keep at arm’s length. For her sake. For theirs.

She walked back to the kitchen and deposited the heavy tub of dishes next to Sam with a grunt.

“Headed out?” her boss asked around a mouthful of chew, maneuvering the hose in the sink and sending warm water splashing everywhere. Behind him food cooked on the grill, burgers that looked like they needed flipping.

She nodded, slipping off her work shoes and squeezing her feet into her snow boots waiting at the back door. “Yep. Good night.”

Sam muttered a response as she slipped on her parka and worked with the double zipper, preparing to leave out the back. “See you Wednesday.”

At the sudden thought of her day off tomorrow, she stopped and looked back at her boss. “Hey, Sam, you mind if I come over tomorrow to use your computer for a little bit? I need to look up some stuff.”

“Sure. Whenever you need to. We’ll be home all day.” Of course, he would. Tuesday was the only day of the week the diner was closed and Sam usually spent it relaxing at home with his family.

“Thanks.” It was time she started investigating her next move. Maggie’s prodding and nosy ways had clued her in that something was off with Darby. It wouldn’t take long for others to start wondering about her, too, and the last thing Darby needed was people prying into her life.

Spring was coming. She needed to start planning her next move anyway. She couldn’t stay here forever. It was already getting too comfortable. The people here were too nice. Which is why she couldn’t stay and put them in jeopardy.

“I’ll come over in the afternoon.”

“Might as well stay for dinner,” he suggested. “Vera’s going to make a pot roast.”

Darby gave a single nod, not bothering to decline. She wouldn’t be staying for dinner. Even as much as she would like to, as much as she craved the company—craved being around a family again. It wasn’t to be. It couldn’t be.

She knew everyone thought she was odd, antisocial even. And that was fine. Better that than the truth.

Better that than dead.

She shook her head as she stepped outside. The cold hit her like a fist. She burrowed into her hood and wrapped her scarf around her throat several times, tugging the fabric up to her chin.

Dead. If it was only just that simple. Sadly, there were things worse than death. Her chest tightened. She knew firsthand about such things.

DARBY FINISHED JOTTING DOWN the last of her notes in her spiral, everything she needed to know about Lancaster, Alaska. Population seventeen hundred. A new town for her. One of the only habitable places in Alaska’s Arctic Circle. But it needed to be cold during the summer. As far as she was concerned, Lancaster would fit her needs perfectly.

She never visited the same place twice. It was too easy to make friends, to build a life with people in it … people who could care about her. She’d discovered that people who cared about her weren’t easy to lie to. And lying was all she could do. Unfortunately, the truth wasn’t something she could give to anyone. Nor could she give any part of herself. Ever.

She was no good.