CRIMSONRIVER
Copyright?2023byDevneyPerryLLC
Allrightsreserved.
ISBN:978-1-957376-32-5
Nopartofthisbookmaybereproduced,distributedortransmittedinanyformorbyanymeans,includingphotocopying,recordingorotherelectronicormechanicalmethods,withoutthepriorwrittenpermissionoftheauthorexceptinthecaseofbriefquotationsinabookreview.
Thisisaworkoffiction.Names,characters,placesandincidentsaretheproductoftheauthor’simaginationorareusedfictitiously.Anyresemblancetoactualevents,localesorpersons,livingordead,iscoincidental.
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SarahHansen?OkayCreationsOTHERTITLESTheEdensSeries
ChristmasinQuincy–Prequel
IndigoRidge
JuniperHill
GarnetFlats
JasperVale
CrimsonRiver
SablePeakTreasureStateWildcatsSeries
Coach
BlitzCliftonForgeSeries
SteelKing
RivenKnight
StonePrincess
NoblePrince
FallenJester
TinQueenJamisonValleySeries
TheCoppersmithFarmhouse
TheCloverChapel
TheLuckyHeart
TheOutpost
TheBitterrootInn
TheCandlePalaceMaysenJarSeries
TheBirthdayList
LetterstoMolly
TheDandelionDiaryLarkCoveSeries
Tattered
Timid
Tragic
Tinsel
TimelessRunawaySeries
RunawayRoad
WildHighway
QuarterMiles
ForsakenTrail
DottedLinesCalamityMontanaSeries
TheBribe
TheBluff
TheBrazen
TheBully
TheBrawl
TheBroodStandalones
Ivy
RiftsandRefrains
ALittleTooWildHolidayBrothers
TheNaughty,TheNiceandTheNanny
ThreeBells,TwoBowsandOneBrother’sBestFriend
APartridgeandaPregnancyCONTENTS
Chapter1
Chapter2
Chapter3
Chapter4
Chapter5
Chapter6
Chapter7
Chapter8
Chapter9
Chapter10
Chapter11
Chapter12
Chapter13
Chapter14
Chapter15
Chapter16
Chapter17
Chapter18
Chapter19
Chapter20
Chapter21
Chapter22
Chapter23
Chapter24
Chapter25
Chapter26
Chapter27
Chapter28
Chapter29
Epilogue
SablePeak
Acknowledgments
AbouttheAuthorCHAPTERONELYLA
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“I’mstaginganintervention.”
NotexactlythegreetingI’dexpectedfrommysisterwhensheandherhusbandhadwalkedintoEdenCoffeeaminuteago.“Huh?”
“I’mkickingyouout.”
Iblinked.
“Ofhere.”Eloisepointedafingeratthecounterthatseparatedus.“Rightnow.Youhavetoleave.”
Leave?Iwasworking.Therewouldbenokickingmeout.ThelasttimeIchecked,thiswasmycoffeeshop.Istaredatherforalongmoment,thenlookedtoJasperstandingatherside.“Isshedrunk?”
“I’mstayingoutofthis.Goodluck,Lyla.”HekissedEloise’shair,thenwalkedtoatableagainstthewall,takingaseat.
“You’veworkedonehundreddaysinarow,”Eloisesaid.
Ahundred?Noway.Thatcouldn’tberight.Iopenedmymouthtoarguebutshecutmeoff.
“Yes,Icounted.Youhaven’ttakenadayoffsincethatSundayinAprilwhenyouwenttoMissoulatogetyourhaircut.”
Iscoffed.“I’vetakenotherdaysoffsincethen.”
“Oh,really?”Eloisearchedaneyebrow.“When?”
Uh…Well,itwasSeptember.AndthelasttimeI’dgonetoMissoulahadbeenApril—myhairwasindirestraitsandindesperateneedofanothertriptothesalon.ButI’dtakentimeoffthissummer,hadn’tI?Maybenotafullday,butthereweredayswhenI’dduckedoutearly.Thatwaspracticallythesameasavacation,right?
Okay,sotechnicallyI’dcometothecoffeeshopforthepasthundreddays.WhocaredifIworkedalot?
Ihuffed.“Whatareyou,theworkpolice?Whoareyoutotalk,anyway?You’realwaysatthehotel.”Ifshewasn’tathomewithJasper,thenshewasrunningTheEloiseInnacrossMainStreet.“Goaway.I’mbusy.”
“Nope.”Sheplantedherhandsonherhips,andifshehadbeenabletophysicallydigherheelsin,I’dhavehadtwodentsinmyhardwoodfloor.TherewasastubbornsettoEloise’sprettychinthatmeantshewasnotlettingthisgo.
Mysisterwasamazingandexasperatingallatthesametime.
“Oneafternoon,”shesaid.“That’sallI’maskingfor.Youleavehereforoneafternoonanddosomethingnon-workrelated.”
“Why?”Couldn’tIjustbeleftalonetoworkinpeace?
Thesadsmileshegavememademefeelbothlovedandpathetic.“BecauseI’mworriedaboutyou.Idon’twantyoutoburnyourselfout.”
Isighed.“Iwon’t.”
“Butyoumight.”Sheclaspedherhandstogether.“Please?JusttaketherestofthedayoffsoIcanstopworrying.”
“Ican’tjustleave,Eloise.”Thisbusinesswasmyeverything.Myonlything.
“Whynot?”ShewavedtoCrystal,mybarista,asshecameoutofthekitchencarryingafreshtrayofscones.“Crystalishere.JasperandIwillhangoutandhelpclose.”
Jaspermightbeabletohandleit,butEloise?Never.Shewasutterlyhopelesswhenitcametocooking,andIwouldn’ttrusthertosteammilkifmylifedependedonit.
Butonceagain,thesecondIopenedmymouthtoobject,shetalkedoverme.
“Gohome.Relax.”
“Ican’tgohome,”Isaid.“IfIdo,I’llthinkofeverythingthatneedstogetdone,andI’llcomerightback.”
Ifanyonecouldrelate,itshouldbeEloise.SheknewexactlythecommitmentittooktorunabusinessindowntownQuincy,Montana.Beforeshe’dmarriedJasper,she’dprobablyputinherownconsecutivehundreddaysatthehotel.
ButnowthatEloisehadfoundlove,herprioritieshadshifted,andshewasshovingthisbalancedlifestyledownmythroat.
Thiswasarguablyworsethanmytwinsister,Talia,whowasadoctoratthehospitalandkepttryingtosetmeuponablinddatewithanX-raytech.Ormysister-in-law,Memphis,whothoughtthelocalUPSdriverwascute—eveninabrownuniform—anddroppednot-so-subtlehintsthatIshouldaskhimoutthenexttimehebroughtadeliverytotheshop.
Itwasn’tthatIdidn’twanttodate.Ihaddated.Foryears,I’dgoneonblinddates.I’dletpeoplesetmeupwiththeirothersinglefriends.I’deventriedadatingapp—twomatchesandtwohorriblefirstdatesandI’dneverventureddownthatroadagain.
Iwasjust…overit.Completely,emphaticallyoverit.
WasmydevotiontoEdenCoffeesuchabadthing?Couldn’teveryonejustleavemeandmysingle,workaholiclifealone?
MyonlyallywasMateo.Justyesterday,myyoungestbrotherhadcomeingriping.Apparently,Iwasn’ttheonlyEdenbeingconstantlypimpedoutfordates.
“Youcouldgotoamovie,”Eloisesuggested.
Meh.DidImindgoingtothetheateralone?No.I’djustratherstayatwork.“Idon’tfeellikepopcorn.LasttimeIwasthereIatetoomuchanditgavemeastomachache.”
“Thendon’tgetpopcorn.”
“Thenwhat’sthefuningoingtoamovie?”
“You’reexhausting.”Sherolledhereyes.“Goforahikethen.Youlovehiking,andIknowyouhardlywentthissummer.It’sabeautifulday.Getsomefreshair.Disconnect.Doanything.Justleavethisbuildinguntiltomorrowmorning.”
“Why?”Iwhined.“Ilikeithere.Letmestay.I’llmakeyousomethingyummy.Chocolatecroissants?”
“Tempting.Butno.”Sheshookherhead.“Thisjobisbecomingyourpersonality.”
What?No,itwasn’t.Iscrunchedupmynose.“Harsh.”
“YoucameintothehotelonMondayandaskedifyoucouldgetmeanythingelse.Inmybuilding.”
Wasmakingsuremysisterhadacoffeeorcookiewhilesheworkedadamncrime?
“Youserveandwaitonpeopleeveryday,”shesaid.“Just…foroneafternoon,dosomethingforyou.”
Thisjobwasforme.Ilikedwatchingpeoplecomeintomycoffeeshopandunwind.IlikedthatI’dcreatedanatmospherewherefriendscouldmeettochat.Wherepeoplecouldtreatthemselvestoapastryordessertorfancylatte.
ButtherewasnoarguingwithEloise.Nottoday.Shehadthatdeterminedlookonherface,oneshe’dinheritedfromDad.
Igroaned.“You’renotgoingtoleavemealoneuntilIagree,areyou?”
“Nope.”
“Fine.I’llgoforahikeorwhatever.”
“Yay.Thankyou.”Shefailedtohideavictorioussmile.“Maybeyou’llmeetyourdreamguywhileyou’reouthiking.”
Uh-huh,sure.BecauseMontanahikingtrailswereteemingwitheligible,handsomemenwho’dworshipthegroundIwalkedon.
Iuntiedmyapron.“I’mstartingtothinkmydreamguydoesn’texist.”Andmaybethatwasokay.Maybethiscoffeeshop,myfamily,wasallIneeded.“You’llcallmeifsomethinggoeswrong.”
“Yes,”shepromised.
Ilockedmyblueeyeswithhers.“There’splentyoffoodinthekitchen,butifforanyreasoncookingisrequired—”
Sheheldupahand.“Ipromisenottogoanywherenearanoven.That’swhyIbroughtJasper.OrI’llaskCrystal.”
Damnit,thiswasstupid.Ididn’twanttogoforahike.Iwantedtostayinmycoffeeshop,surroundedbythescentsofvanilla,coffeebeansandcinnamon.Andthewallswiththeirscuffedmolding.Andthefloorthatwouldneedtobemoppedtonight.Andthestickytablesthatwouldneedtobewipeddown.
SomaybeIwasateeny-tinybitsickofthisplace.
Besides,thisseemedtobesomethingEloiseneeded.Andaftertheshootingatthehotelthissummer,well…ifthiswouldtakeoneworryoffherheart,thenIcouldgiveheranafternoon.
“Allright,”Isaid.“Youwin.I’llgo.Happynow?”
“Yep.”Thatsmuggrinofherswidened.
WhileshegloatedtoCrystal,Itrudgedintothekitchentocollectmystuff.
Withmycoatslungoveranarmandmypurseonashoulder,Iheadedfortherearexit,ignoringEloiseasshepracticallyshovedmeoutside.TheminuteIwasaloneinthealley,IstuckoutmytonguetowardthesteeldoorandEloise,whowasprobablywatchingfromthepeephole.
“Anintervention,”ImutteredasIclimbedinmycar.Weren’tinterventionssupposedtoincludemorethanoneperson?Jasperdidn’tcount,consideringhe’dboltedafterfiveseconds.
“Nowwhat?”Myfingerhesitatedovertheignitionbutton.IstaredatthebackofEdenCoffee.Couldn’tIjustgobackinsidewhereitwasfamiliar?No.Isighedandstartedmynavy-blueHonda.I’dbebacktomorrowatfourinthemorninganyway.
Ireversedoutofmyspaceandheadeddownthealley,takingmyregularroutetomyhouseontheoutskirtsofQuincy.
Thehousewasquiet.Itwasalwaysquiet.ThecouchandTVweretempting,butwhatI’dtoldEloisewastrue.IfIstayedhome,I’dthinkaboutworkandgoback.SoIswappedoutthetennisshoesI’dpulledonthismorningformyhikingboots.Thenwithawarmercoatandabeanietocovermydarkhair,Ireturnedtomycarandaimedmytiresatthemountains.
Montanawasmagnificentthistimeofyear.Thetreessurroundingmysmallhometownwereariotofcolor.Theboldevergreenforestswereinfusedwithlimes,yellows,orangesandreds.Alayerofmistandfogclungtothemountaintops.
AsImademywayalongthewindingroadthatledtomyfavoritehikingarea,Icrackedthewindowaninch,breathinginthecrisp,coolair.
Myshouldersrelaxeddeeperintotheseat.Mypulsecalmed.Maybeafterthishike,I’dfeelmorelikemyself.
Eversincemythirtiethbirthdaythisspring,I’dstruggledtofeel…normal.Somethingwasgoingonwithme,butIcouldn’tquitepinpointit.Wasitdepression?Anxiety?Restlessness?
Quincywashome.Ithadalwaysbeenhome.Theideaofmovingtoanewtownmademystomachchurn,butlatelyI’dbeenwondering…
Whatnext?
I’dspentthebetterpartofadecadeestablishingmybusiness.FromthedayI’dgraduatedcollegeandmovedhome,I’dpouredeverythingintoEdenCoffee.I’dprovedtomyselfthatIcouldbeasuccessfulentrepreneur.Iwasn’tjustthebestpastrychefinahundred-mileradius,butIalsohadtheintelligenceandsavvytomanageaprofitablebusiness.I’dusedmyinheritancewiselyandhadn’tsquanderedthegiftfrommyparents.
Iliveddebt-free.Boththebuildingdowntownandmyhomeweremineandminealone.I’dmadeenoughlastyearfromtheshoptobuythisnewcarwithcash.Beyondthatfinancialstability,Iwassurroundedbyfamilyandfriends.IfIwantedabuzzingsociallife—whichIdidn’t—Icouldhaveone.
Andmen,well…IcoulddateifIwantedtodate.ButIdidn’t.
Fromtheoutside,mylifewasrocksolid.Sowhycouldn’tIshakethisunease?ThisfeelingthatIwasmissingsomething.Thisfeelingthatsomehow,I’dfailed.ThatIwasmarchinginthewrongdirection.
Iwasoff-kilteranddidn’tknowhowtofindsteady.
Itwaseasiertoignorethosefeelingsatwork.Theshopwasbusyandkeptmyheadfromwandering.Wasthatmyproblem?I’dbeenignoringmyselffortoolong?
WasEdenCoffeemypersonality?WasIokaywiththat?
Ididn’thaveananswer.Soinstead,Iconcentratedontheroad,drivingtoasmall,familiarturnoutoffthehighway.
Therewasn’tanestablishedtrailheadalongthisparticularsectionoftheriver.Itwasasecludedareamostlyfrequentedbylocal,experiencedhikers.
ThetouristswhoflockedtoQuincyeverysummertypicallyheadedtoGlaciertohike.Thosewhostayedcloseusedthewider,maintainedtrails.
ThisspotwasreallynothingmorethananaccesspointtotheClarkForkRiver.Thewoodsweredense,andunlessyouknewwhattoexpect,itdidn’texactlyscreamStopHeretoDiscoverMontana!
Inthespring,IpreferredhikingtrailsthatledtoopenmeadowswhereIcouldpickwildflowers.Butinthefall,whentheriverwaslowandtherockybanksdry,IcouldmeanderalongthewaterasItookinthescenery.
Itwasmyparentswho’dtaughtmetolovetheoutdoors.MydadhadalwayssaidthatbreathinginMontana’sfreshairforanhourwasasurefirewaytocureanyailment.Hispreferredwaytoexplorewasonhorseback.SowasTalia’sandGriffin’s.AndwhileIdidloveridingmyhorse,Mercury,therewassomethingpeacefulaboutwalkingthroughnatureonmyowntwofeet.
Myhikingbackpackhadbeensittinginthebottomofmyclosetforfar,fartoolong.Izippedmykeysinitsfrontpocket,pattingthesidepouchthatheldmybearspray.Thenwithmyemptywaterbottlestowedaway,Idonnedmycoatandhatbeforeheadingintothewoods,breathinginthescentofearthandpine.
BythetimeImadeittotheriver,aweighthadliftedoffmyshoulders.
Ihadn’tevenrealizedhowmuchI’dneededtogetaway.Toignorethestressfromworkandjust…breathe.
Okay,somaybeEloisehadapoint.Tomorrow,I’dhavetosaythankyou.She’dneverletmeliveitdown.
Ituggedmyphonefrommypockettocheckthetime,andtomakesureIhadn’tmissedanycalls.Thescreenwasblank.
Afewyearsago,IwouldhavebeenfloodedwithtextsonaFridayafternoon.Mysisterswantingtogoouttodinner.MybrotherswantingtomeetatWillie’sforadrink.MomandDadinvitingusalltosomeactivityintown.
Butlately,itseemedlikeeveryonehadtheirownlife.
Wasthatwhatwasbotheringme?ThatIfeltleftbehind?
WiththeexceptionofMateo,mysiblingsweremarried.Theywereallhavingchildren,growingtheirownfamilies.MomandDadwererevelingintheirretirementandgrandkids.
Irefusedtobejealousoftheirhappiness.Refused.
Itwashardertorefusetheloneliness.
Onasigh,Ituckedmyphoneawayandfilledmylungswiththecrispmountainair,holdingitinuntilitburned.ThenIheadedoffmypath,followingtheriverasImademywaydeeperintotheforest.
AnotherreasonIlikedthisareawasbecauseitkeptcellservice.IhadmypeppersprayincaseIencounteredananimal,butifIevergotlost,IhadmyphoneandGPStofindmywayhome.SoIwalkedinnohurry,withnodestinationinmind,breathingeasierandeasierasmymuscleswarmedandloosened.
Ahawk’sscreampiercedthesky,echoingthroughtherivervalley.Thebirdsoaredoverhead,thendisappearedpastthetreetops.
Afteranhour,sweatbeadedatmytemplesandmythroatwasparched.Iunstrappedmypack,pullingoutmyemptywaterbottle,thentraversedtheround,smoothrocksthatborderedtheriver.Thebestpartaboutthisspotwastheclean,coldwater.
Itwistedthelidfromthebottle,crouchingtofillit,butfrozewhenatrickleofredwashedpastmyfeetlikeacrimsoncloudfloatinginastream.
Blood.
Everymuscleinmybodytensed,myheartclimbingintomythroat.Shit.
Slowly,Istretchedanarmbackward,liftingmycanofpeppersprayfromitspocket.Thatbloodhadtobecomingfromarecentkill.Adeerhadprobablycometotheriverforadrink,likeme,andbeenambushedbyapredator.
WouldIpreferarun-inwithamountainlionoragrizzlybear?Mountainlion.Probably.Damnit.
Pleasedon’tbeagrizzlybearoramountainlion.
Irosetomyfeet,barelybreathingasImovedaninchatatime.MaybeifIcouldsneakaway,whateverpredatorwashavingasnackupstreamwouldn’tevennoticeme.Withasilentstep,Iturned,bracingasIscannedtheriverbanks.
Notagrizzlybearoramountainlion.
Ahunter.
Theairrushedfrommylungs.Oh,thankGod.
Ireturnedmycanisterofpepperspraytoitspocket,thentwistedthelidonmywaterbottle.
Thehunterwaspositionedwithhisbackinmydirection.Herestedonhiskneesashewashedhisbloodyhandsintheriver.
Closertothetrees,Ispottedhiskill.Notadeer,butanelk.Itstanhidehadbeenfoldedintoaneatsquare.Hemusthavequarteredtheanimalalreadybecausetherewerehunksofmeatinwhitegamebagsstrappedtohispack.Abowandquiverofarrowswereproppedupagainstanearbylog.Andabouttwentyfeetfromhispackwasthegutpile—redandgreenishgrayandstillsteaming.
Thehunterstood,shakingouthiswethands.
Iopenedmymouth,abouttomakeasoundsohe’dknowhewasn’talone,whenheturnedandspottedme.
Hedidadoubletake.
Iwaved.“Hi.Sorrytosneakup—”
Heburstintolongstrides,movingtowardmewithsuchintensitythatIglancedovermyshouldertomakesuretherewasn’tactuallyagrizzlybearbehindme
WhenIfacedforwardagain,hewasstillmarchingtowardmesofastthatIsteppedbackward,stumblingonarock.Irightedmyselfandheldupbothhands,droppingmywaterbottle.“I’msorry.Ididn’tmeantostartleyou.I’llleave.”
Hekeptcoming,likeabulletintentonitstarget.Hemovedtoofastformetoescape.Toofastformetomakeanysenseofthis.
Run,Lyla.
HereachedmebeforeIcouldrun.AndbeforeIcouldscreamormakeasound,hewrappedhislarge,wethandsaroundmyneck.
Painexplodedthroughmythroat.Itriedtodraginabreathbuthisgripwasimpossiblytight.Myeyesburnedandtearsstreameddownmycheeks.
“Stop.”Myvoicewasbarelyagurgle.Myhandscametohiswrists,tuggingandpulling.Smackingandslapping.
Hesqueezedharder.
No.No,thiswasn’thappening.Thiswasjustanightmare.I’dtrippedonastickinthewoodsandhitmyhead.Thiswasmyimaginationplayingtricksonme.Iwasreallyathome,asleeponthecouchandhavingabaddream.Becausewhywouldthismanwanttokillme?
No,thiswasn’treal.
Igaspedforbreath,desperatetofillmylungs.Ballingmyhandsintofists,Ibashedthemagainsthisforearms,buthewastoostrong.Tootall.Toobig.
Ikickedathisshins,buttheedgesofmyvisionweregrowingfuzzy.Thelackofoxygenwasalreadypullingdarknesscloser.
Thismanwasgoingtokillme.ThiswaswhereI’ddie.Besidetheriver,inthemiddleoftheMontanawilderness,strangledbyastranger.
Dadwasontheexpandedsearchandrescueteamforthecounty.SowasGriffin.SowasKnox.SowasMateo.
Pleasedon’tletoneofthemfindmybody.
Throughthetears,Itookinmykiller’sface.Hehadreddish-orangehair—aginger.Thestubbleonhisgranitefacewasthesamecolor.Hiseyeswerearichbrown,likethebrowniesI’dmadethismorningatthecoffeeshop.Therewasajaggedscaronhisface,pinkandaboutsixincheslong.Itranfromthecornerofhiseyeallthewaytohischin
Howdidhegetthatscar?IguessI’dneverknow.
Theblackcreptcloser,faster.
Why?Imouthedtheword,unabletospeak.
Myarmsandlegsweregettingsoheavy.Ibattedathiswristsagain,usingthelastofmystrengthuntilmyhandsdroppedtomysidesandmykneesbuckled.Myeyelidsmightaswellhavebeenmadeoflead.Theydriftedclosedasmyheadbegantofloat.
Thebearspray.Ireachedforthepocket,mymovementssluggish,butImanagedtoslipmyindexfingerthroughthetrigger’scircle.ButbeforeIcouldeventhinkaboutliftingthecan,hisholdonmythroatloosened.Thecanslippedfrommygrip,clatteringagainstthegroundatmyfeet.
ThenIwasfallingtoo.
Mykneescrackedontherocksandpainrippedthroughmylegs.Icollapsedonashoulder,myhandscomingtomythroat.Itburnedlikehe’dsetitonfire,buthishandsweregone.
He’dletmego.
Icoughedandgagged,dragginginairthroughmynose,anythingtofillmylungs.Iclutchedmystomach,curlingupontheground,gaspingforafullbreath.Everyinhaleached.Thetearskeptflowing,myinsideschurningasmyheadspunincircles.
He’dletmego.
Why?Iforcedmyeyesopen,riskingaglanceinthedistance.Thebackpack,thebowandthemanweregone.
Hewasgone.
Igavemyselfthreeheartbeats.ThenIshoveduptomyfeet.
Run,Lyla.
Thistime,Iran.CHAPTERTWOVANCE
Wherethehellwasmywallet?Ipattedmyjeanspocketforthetenthtime,thenscannedthebedroomagain.Itwasn’tonthenightstand.I’dputitonthenightstand.Thedamnthingcouldn’thavesproutedlegsandwalkedaway.
“Forfuck’ssake.”Ididn’thavetimetosearchformywalletwhenIneededtogetontheroad,butbeforeIcouldgetontheroad,Ineededmyfuckingwallet.
“Tiff,”Ihollered,pinchingthebridgeofmynose.
Sheemergedfromthehallwayandstoodinthedoorway,hazeleyesstillblazingfromourargument.“What?”
“Mywallet.Haveyouseenit?”
Shepursedherlips.
“Tiff,”Iclipped.Didshereallythinkifshekeptmeherelongenough,I’dchangemymind?
Shehuffedandfishedmywalletfromherbackpocket.Withaflickofherwrist,shetosseditonthebedsoitlandedbesidemybackpackandsuitcase.
Igrittedmyteeth,holdingbackasnidecomment.“Thanks.”
“You’rereallygoing.”Shecrossedherarmsoverherchest,hernostrilsflaring.
“Ihavetogo.”Isweptupmywallet,tuckingitinmyownpocket,thenslungmybackpackoverashoulder.Thezipper’sseamswerestretchedtothemax.Thesamewastrueformysuitcase.NothavinganyideahowlongI’dbeinMontana,I’derredonthesideoftoomuchratherthannotenough.
“Imeanit,Vance.Iwon’tbeherewhenyougetback.”
She’dsaidthesameearlierafterI’dtoldherIwasgoingtoMontana.Ithadn’treallysurprisedme,probablybecauseI’dbeenexpectingitfor,well…alongtime.
“Youdon’thaveanythingtosay?”sheasked.
No.No,Ididn’t.Andmysilenceonlyheightenedherfrustration.
Shethrewahandintheair.“Whenareyougoingtogivethisup?”
“Never,”Iwhispered.
Untilmydyingday,Iwouldnevergiveupthissearch.EveryoneelsehadstoppedlookingforCormac.EveryoneelsehadabandonedNorahandthegirls.Theydeservedjustice.Theydeservedvengeance.
Therewasnogivingup.
“Youwon’tfindhim,”shesaid.
“Imight.”
“He’s.Gone.”Shepunchedeachword,likevolumealonewouldmakemebelievethem.
Hewasn’tgone.Thatsonofabitchdidn’tgettobegone.
Maybethisleadwouldturnintonothing,justlikeeveryotherleadI’dfollowedinthepastfouryears.ButiftherewaseventheslightestchanceIcouldcatchCormac’strail,thenI’dtakeit.
Iheftedmysuitcaseoffthemattress,movingforthedoor,butTiffshiftedandblockedmypath.
“Ican’tdothisanymore.”Herchinbegantoquiver.“Ican’tstayhereandwaitwhileyouchaseyourdemons.”
“Thendon’t.”
Whenwe’dfirstgottentogether,Tiffhadencouragedmetogo.Butatsomepointinthepastthreeyears,she’dbecomejustlikeeveryoneelse.Shewantedmetoletitgoandmoveonwithmylife.
Icouldn’tmoveon.Iwouldn’t.Andifshedidn’tunderstandthat,well…
“Leavethekeysonthecounter.”Wewereover.We’dbeenover.Itwastimetostoppretendinglikewehadafuturetogether.
“That’sit?”Hereyesflooded.“ItellyouI’mmovingoutandyouaskmetoleavethekeysonthecounter?”
Yes.“Ineedtogo,”Isaid,jerkingmychinforhertogetoutoftheway.
Sheshifted,justenoughformetoslidepast,thenfollowedmedownthehallway.“Youneverwouldhavedonethisbeforetheshooting.”
Myjawclenched.“Thishasnothingtodowiththeshooting.”
“Vance.”
Isighed,turningtofaceher.“What?”
“Pleasedon’tgo.”Tearsglistenedinhereyes.“Stay.Staywithme.”
Thiswaswhywewereover.
Ifshetrulylovedme,she’dneveraskmetostay.
Isetmysuitcaseandbackpackonthefloor,thenputmyhandsonhershoulders.“I’msorry.”
IwassorrythatIwasn’tthemansheneeded.IwassorrythatIcouldn’tbethemanshe’dexpected.IwassorrythatIdidn’tlovehertoo.
“Iloveyou.”Atearfelldownhercheek.
Ididn’tcatchit.
“Bye,Tiff.”Isteppedawayasasobescapedhermouth.ThenIcollectedmybagsand,withoutabackwardglance,walkedtothegarage.Mygunwasalreadyloadedinthegloveboxofmytruck,sowithmythingsinthebackseat,Iclimbedbehindthewheelandtookoff.
MaybeIshouldhavehurt,knowingthatTiffwouldbegonewhenIgothome.Instead,Ifelt…relieved.
Tiffwasagoodwomanwho’dhelpedmethroughahardperiodinmylife.She’dfilledavoid,foratime.She’dmademelaughwhenI’dthoughtitimpossible.Butshedeservedamanwholovedherentirely.
Thatmanwasn’tme.
Maybeshewasright.MaybethisendlesssearchforCormacwasruiningmylife.Itsureashellhadtakenatollonmyjob.ButIwasn’tgoingtostop.SoIputCoeurd’AleneinmyrearviewmirrorandracedalongtheinterstatetowardMontana.
Itwasathree-hourtriptoQuincy,meaningifIhurried,I’darrivebeforedarkwithtimetopokearoundtownandgetmybearings.I’dalreadycalledaheadforahotelroom,bookingitforaweek.Withanyluck,I’dpickupCormac’strailbythen.
ThisleadwastheclosestI’deverbeentofindingthatslipperybastard.IthadbeentwodayssincetheAPBhadbeenissued,andwhiletwodayswasplentyforhimtodisappear,maybehe’dgottencomplacent.Maybehewouldn’tfeeltheneedtorush.Ormaybehehadn’tleftMontanaatall.
I’dspentfouryearschasingCormacGallagher.FromWashingtontoUtahtoOregontoColorado,themanhadprovedimpossibletofind.He’dbeatenmeateveryturn.Butthistimearound,somethingfeltdifferent.
HowlonghadhebeeninMontana?WhyhadhecomesoclosetoIdaho?Hadhebeenhidingrightundermynoseformonths?Years?
Orwouldthisturnouttobeanotherdeadend?
Threeyearsago,I’dfollowedaleadtoColorado.PolicehadreportedamanmatchingCormac’sdescription.Redhair.Browneyes.Samebuildandheight.Butthatmanhadn’thadascarredcheek,andwhenI’dfoundhimhidinginaramshacklehouseinthemountainsoutsideofFortCollins,I’dturnedhimovertotheauthorities,thencomehomeanddrownedmyselfinabottleofcheapwhiskey.
Sixmonthslater,I’dfollowedaleadtoUtah.Anotherbust.Fourmonthslater,I’dbeeninWashington.Threemonthsafterthat,Oregon.I’dspentfouryearstraipsingaroundthePacificNorthwest,followinganylead.
Chanceswere,mytriptoMontanawouldbeanotherwastedtrip.Excepttheall-pointsbulletinfromQuincyhadclearlydescribedamanwithascar.Noneoftheothershadgiventhatmuchdetail.
Thistime,itwouldbedifferent.Ithadtobedifferent.
IpulledoutmyphonetocallDad.Theminuteitstartedringingthroughthetruck’sspeakers,mygriptightenedonthewheel.Gotovoicemail.
“Hello,”heanswered.
Isighed.“Hey,Dad.”
“Holdonasec.”Therewasarustlingnoiseinthebackground.Thencamethesoundofadooropeningandclosing.“What’sgoingon?”
Therewasanecho,likehe’dclosedhimselfinthegarage.
Thatwasusuallyhowitsoundedwhenwe’dtalk.Eitherhe’ddisappeartothegarageorhe’dgooutsidesohecouldtalktomewhereMomwouldn’toverhear
Howhaditcometothis?HowhadIbecomethevillain?
“I’mheadingtoMontana.Mightbegoneaweekortwo,”Itoldhim,knowinghewouldn’taskwhyorhowlongI’dbegone.
Askingtoomanyquestionsmightcrossthatinvisiblelinedrawnbetweenmeandmyfamily.Besides,DadknewwhyIlefttown.AndlikeTiff,hethoughtIshouldhavemovedonyearsago.
“Allright,”hemurmured.
“Ileftinahurry.WouldyoumindtakingthetrashtothecurbonWednesday?”
“WhataboutTiff?”
“She’smovingout.”
“Oh.”Hepaused.“Okay.”
“Andwouldyoumindgrabbingmymaileveryfewdays?Justsoitdoesn’tpileup.”
“Sure.”
“Thanks,Dad.”
“Yep.”Heendedthecall.
Thesestinted,abruptconversationshadbecomenormal.Andsomehow,thatwasmyfault.
NexttimeIleft,I’dcallafriendtocheckonthehouse.
Isetmyphoneasideandfocusedontheroad,takinginthelandscapealongtheway.Plentyofmountains.Denseevergreenforests.ThispartofMontanawasn’tallthatdifferentfromIdaho.MaybethatwaswhyCormachadreturned.He’dwantedatasteofhome.
Theonlythinghedeservedtotastewasthreesquaresadayfromaprisoncafeteria.
Fuck,butIhopedthisleadwassomethingreal.Hopewasadangerousgameforamanlikeme,especiallywhereCormacwasconcerned.Butwitheverypassingmile,itstirred,buildingandswellinginmyverybones.
BythetimeIarrivedinQuincy,mymuscleswerejittery.Myfingersdrummedonthesteeringwheelasthehighwayslowed,turningintoMainStreet.AsIeaseddowntheroad,Isoakedinthesmalltownlikeasponge.
TheEloiseInn,thehotelwhereI’dbookedaroom,wasthetallestbuildinginsight,interruptingthejaggedmountainhorizoninthedistance.Businesses,restaurantsandacoupleofbarsfilledthedowntownarea.
Thelamppoststhatlitthesidewalkswerewrappedintwinklelights.Storewindowsweredeckedoutinautumndécor,pumpkinsandpottedmumsandvibrantleaves.
AsIpassedahardwarestore,Imadeamentalnotetostopbyandpickupamapofthelocalarea.DigitalmapsandGPSworkedforsome,butI’dalwayspreferredpaper.
Mymentorhadtaughtmethat.
He’dalsotaughtmethattimewascritical.Ifasuspecthadtoomuchofaheadstart,catchingupbecameimpossible.TheAPBhadbeenpostedFridayafternoon.Unfortunately,itwasSunday.ButtwodayswasfasterthananyoftheotherleadsI’dfound.
MaybeCormacthoughtthatafterfouryears,theworldhadforgottenabouthiscrimes.Maybehe’dgottencomfortablewhereveritwashewashiding.Maybeifhe’dbuiltashelter,settledintothearea,hemightnotbeasquicktoleave.
Astringofmaybes.ThatwasallIhad.
Itwouldhavetobeenough.
IparkedonMain,takingmybagsfromthebackofmysilverDodgeandhaulingthemintoTheEloiseInn.Thedeskclerkcheckedmeinefficiently,sendingmetomyroomonthefourthfloorwithtwokeysandrestaurantrecommendationsfordinner.
Iwastooanxioustoeatmuch,soratherthanstopbyKnuckles,thehotel’srestaurant,Idroppedmybagsinmyroom,thenheadedoutside.
“Howdy.”AmannoddedasIpassedhimonthesidewalkoutsidethehotel.
“Evening.”Idippedmychin,alreadylikingQuincy’sfriendlyatmosphereandthefactthathere,Iwasanameless,facelessstranger.
I’dhardlyleftthehouseinthepasttwoweeksbecauseoftherecentmediaattention.TheonetimeI’dgonetothegrocerystore,I’dgottenplentyofsidewaysglances.Thecashierhadflat-outaskedmeifIwasthatcop
Untilthatshitstormdieddown,IwasmorethanhappytospendmydaysinMontana.
Ironic,thatI’dstartedmycareertostandapart.Tobeoneoftheheroes.Towearmygleamingbadgewithpride.Thesedays,thelastthingIwantedwasattention.Andmybadgehadatarnishthatnoamountofpolishingseemedtoerase.
ExactlywhyI’dleftitbehind.
IcrossedMain,headingforthecoffeeshop.Thesmallgreenbuildinghadasandwichboardoutfrontadvertisingtoday’sspecials.Mochalatte.Ham,appleandswisspanini.Pumpkinchocolatechipcookies.Thewordswerewritteninchunkyblockletters,eachadornedwithswirlyflowers
Theshop’slarge,black-panedwindowsconsumedmostofthestreet-facingwall,givingpatronsaclearviewofthesidewalkandstreet.Intheeveninglight,theyactedlikeamirror,reflectingthecarsthatpassedaswellaspeoplewalkingby,meincluded.
Goddamn,Ilookedlikeshit.Idraggedahandthroughmyhair,attemptingtotamethedarkstrands.Itneededacut,andIhadn’tshavedinafewdays.Thestubbleonmyjawwasthick.MaybeI’dleaveit,growabeard.
Tiffhatedbeards.
Thatdidn’tmatteranymore.Andabeardmightdistractfromthedarkcirclesbeneathmyeyes.Sleephadbeenlightsince,well…Icouldn’trememberthelasttimeI’dsleptformorethanfourorfivehoursinarow.
Ifingercombedmyhaironemoretime,buttheeffortwasfutile,soIstraightenedthecollarofmyplaidjacketbeforereachingthecoffeeshop’sdoor.
EdenCoffeewaswrittenonitsfaceingoldlettering.Ipulleditopenandbreathedinthescentofcoffeeandfood.Goodfood.Mystomachgrowled.GuessIwashungry.
I’dbeeninthemiddleoflunchwithmylaptopwhenI’dcomeacrosstheQuincyPoliceDepartment’sAPB.Thatmealhadbeenabandonedinthetrash,andIhadn’tstoppedagainonceI’dhittheroad.
Theshop’swallswerethesamedeepgreenastheexterior,givingitawarm,invitingfeel.Woodentablesandchairsfilledthespaceoneithersideoftheaislethatledtoacounteratthebackofthecafé.
Theglassdisplaycaseoverflowedwithpastriesanddesserts.Theespressomachine’shissdulledtheconversationfromtheoccupiedtables.MybootsthuddedonthehardwoodfloorasImademywaytothecounter.
Thebaristaworeapine-greenapron.Herjet-blackhairwaspulledintoashortponytailatthenapeofherneck.Shehadthick,wingedeyelinerandherlipswerestainedpurple.Notplumorwine,purple,likeagrapejellybean.
Sheheldupafingerasshefinishedsteamingherjugofmilk.“Givemeoneminute.”
“Sure.”Inodded,scanningthelargechalkboardmenumountedtothewallbehindthecounter.
AtableinthefarcornerbesidetheglasswindowswouldgivemeanopenviewofMainandalsoprovideadecentworkspace.Betterthanthecrampeddeskinmyhotelroom.
“WhatcanIgetyou?”thebaristaasked.
“Hamandswisspanini,please.Anda,uh…”Ipeeredintothedisplaycase.“What’syourfavoritethinginthere?”
“It’sallgood,butIthinkLylaisjustfinishingabatchofhercowboycookies.Highlyrecommend.”Shepinchedherfingerstogetheranddidachef’skiss.
“Sold.”Idugoutmywallet,handingoveratwentyjustasawomanemergedfromthehallwaythatleddeeperintothebuilding.
Shecarriedatrayofcookies,herhandscoveredintangerineovenmitts.Herapronwasthesamepine-greenshadeasthebarista’s.Adustingofflourcoveredherheartandtherewasaone-inchstreakonherforehead,aboveherdelicaterighteyebrow.
Hercheekswereflushedthesameprettyshadeofpinkashersoftpout.Atendrilofdarkhairhadescapedthemessyknotonthetopofherheadandsweptacrosshertemple.
Myhandlifted,actingonitsown,eithertotuckthatlockofhairbehindanearorwipeawaytheflourstreak.
Hersapphire-blueeyesdartedtomeasshesetthetrayonthecounter,thenpulledofftheovenmitts.
Evenwiththetwoblackeyesshe’dtriedherbesttocoverwithmakeup,shewasbreathtaking.
Sheofferedmeasmallsmilebeforedroppingherchinintothechunkyscarfwrappedaroundherneckasshebeganaddingcookiestothedisplaycase.Thatscarfwasthick,butthebruisesonthelongcolumnofherthroatseemeddeterminedtomakeanappearance.Theypeekedoutbeneathherdaintyjaw.
Blackeyes.Bruisedthroat.Clearsignsthatsomeonehadwrappedtheirhandsaroundherneck.
TheAPBfromthelocalauthoritieshaddescribedCormacperfectly.Betterthananypreviousreport.Thebulletinhadstatedthathewasasuspectinanattemptedmurderbuthadn’tlistedameans.
Strangulation,maybe?Thatwasfitting.AndaccordingtotheAPB,thiscrimehadoccurredoutsideofQuincy,inthewilderness.Cormac’splayground.
Therewasachancethiswomanhadnothingtodowithhim.ThatIwassimplydesperate.ButI’dlistenedtomygutforalong,longtime.Anditwasshoutingthatshewastheonewho’dcrossedCormac’spath.
“Hereyougo.”Thebaristasetaplateonthecounterwithmysandwich,somechips,apickleandoneofthosefreshcookies.“Anythingtodrink?”
“Water.Please.”
“Yougotit.”Shenodded,thenputherhandontheotherwoman’sshoulder.“Icanfinishwiththecookies,Lyla.”
Shenoddedasthebaristawalkedtothesinkagainstthebacktofillmeaglassofwater.Butshedidn’tabandonthosecookies.Shekeptputtingtheminthedisplaycase.
Lyla.Beautifulname.Beautifulwoman.Toobeautifultobecoveredinbruises.
ItwasjustanothersinthatCormacwouldsufferfor.I’dmakethatbastardpayforwhathe’ddonetothegirls.ToNorah.AndtoLyla.
Shenoticedmestaring.Thatflushinhercheeksbrightened.“CanIhelpyou?”
Hervoicewasraspy.Raw.Barelyawhisper.
“Yeah.”Inodded.“Ithinkyoucan.”CHAPTERTHREELYLA
Therewassomethinginthewaythismanspoke,thewayhestared,thatmademestandalittlestraighter.Thatmademestoptryingtohidemyface.Itwaslike…heknew.
Impossible
HewasarguablythemostruggedlyhandsomemanI’deverseeninmylife.HiswasnotafaceI’dforget,whichmeanthewaslikelyjustvisitingQuincy.TheonlypeoplewhoknewwhathadhappenedalongtheriveronFridaywerelocals—gossipwasgallopingthroughtownlikeastampedeofwildstallions.
Rumorwas,mynear-deathincidentwouldmaketheQuincyGazette’sfrontpageonWednesday’sweeklyedition.
Iwouldnotbereadingthepaperthisweek.
ThisguywasprobablystaringbecauseoftheshittyattemptI’dmadetoconcealmyblackeyes.MostofthemakeupI’dputonatthreethismorninghadfadedafteralongday.Orhewasstaringbecauseofthisfreakingscarf.Itwasthickandheavy,anddespitemybestefforts,thechunkymaterialwouldn’tstaytightenoughbeneathmychintohidethebruises.
“Canwetalkforamoment?”Hejerkedhischintowardthetables.
Talkaboutwhat?HowIlookedlikesomeone’spersonalpunchingbag?Fun.
“Please,”hebegged.
Thereitwasagain.Thefeelingthatheknew.Whowashe?Onlyonewaytofindout.Ipointedtohissandwich.“I’llletyoueat,thenjoinyouinamoment.”
“Allright.”Hepickeduphisplate,waitinguntilCrystalsetaglassoficewateronthecounter,thensweptituptoo.“I’llbefast.”
“Norush.”
Hisgazedartedtomythroat,thenheturnedandcrossedtheroom.Hehadaconfidentstride.Longlegscoveredinfadedjeans.Scuffedboots.Stubbledjaw.Broadshouldersanddisheveledhair.Tall.Verytall.Greatass.
Exactlymytype.
Ofcoursetheuniversewoulddelivermeasexy,beautifulmanwhentheverylastthingIwantedwastobetouched.WhenIcouldn’tevenflirtbecauseofmyfuckingvoice.
IsoundedlikeI’dbeenalifelongsmoker,andeveryhoarse,hitchedsyllableached.
Thepainhadcontinuallyworsenedovertheweekend.ProbablybecauseIkepttalking.Taliahadtoldmethequickestwaytorecoverwastorest,butIrefusedtostayathomeandhide.Iwouldn’tcowerandgivethatsonofabitchwho’dtriedtokillmethesatisfactionofmydefeat.
SohereIwas,working.Yesterdaymorning,whenmymotherandCrystalhadshownupatfivetoopenEdenCoffee,I’dalreadybeenhereforanhour.Theireveryattempttoshoomeoutthedoorhadbeenthwartedwithanadamantno
DadandGriffinhadcomeinthismorningtotryandconvincemetospendaweekattheranchrecuperating.ButI’dheldupmychinandmarchedintothekitchentomakecranberry-orangescones.
IfIhadjuststayedatworkonFriday,noneofthiswouldhavehappenedinthefirstplace.NotthatIblamedEloise—thoughshewasdeterminedtocarrytheblameregardless.She’dbeensoupsetthismorningwhensheandJasperhadcomeintocheckonmethatI’dhadtopracticallyshakehertolistenasI’dchokedouthowthiswasn’therfault.
Therewasoneandonlyonepersontoblame.Thatmotherfuckinghunter.
Still,I’dbedamnedifanyonewouldrunmeoutofmyownbuildingagain.
ThiswaswhereIwantedtobe,soIwasstaying.
“Crystal.”Iloweredmyvoice.Itdidn’thurtasmuchwhenIwhispered.
“Yeah?”Sheappearedatmysideinasnap,abandoningthecoffeeshe’dbeenmaking.She’dbeenatrooper,hoveringclose,readytodowhateverIasked.Crystalwastheonlypersonwhohadn’ttriedtogetmetoleave.Ilovedherforthat.
“Doyouknowwhothatis?”Inoddedtowardtheman.He’dtakenthefartablebesidethewindowsandwasinhalinghissandwich.
“No.I’veneverseenhimbefore.”
Inodded,thentouchedherforearmbeforegettingacoffeemugfromthestackandfillingitwithhotwater.Whateverthatmanwanted,I’dneedsomethingtodrinkifweweregoingtotalk,soImademyselfatea,lettingitsteepwhilehedemolishedhismeal.
Thebusysummertouristseasonwasover.Itwastooearlyforholidayvisitors.Thistimeofyear,Quincysawaninfluxofhunters,andwhilethisguy’sroughedgeandoutdoorsyvibefitthatimage,myintuitionsaidthatwasn’twhyhe’dcometotown.
Why?Noidea.Somethingabouthimjustfelt…different.
Maybemynear-deathexperiencehadgivenmesomesixthsense—ordelusions.ForallIknew,I’dgotothattableandhe’ddeliversomecheesypickupline.Thoughwithafacelikehis,heprobablyjustcrookedafingerandwomenhoppedintohisbed.
Itookasipofmytea,lettingthewarmthsoothemythroat.ThenIcarrieditacrosstheshop.
Whenhesawmecoming,themanwipedhislipswithanapkin,thenballeditupandsetitonhisnowemptyplateasItookthechairacrossfromhis.
“VanceSutter.”Hestretchedahandacrossthetable.
MyhandwasdwarfedbyhisasIreturnedhisshake.Hisgripwasroughbutwarm.“LylaEden.”
“Eden.”Hisgray-blueeyesflickedtothedooratmyback.
“Thisismycoffeeshop.”
Henodded,studyingmyface.Oncemore,hisgazedartedtomyscarf.“I’llcuttothechase.I’mlookingforaman.”
Isattaller,myheartbeginningtorace.OhmyGod,Iknewit.Ifreakingknewit.Heknewit.How?
“Who?”Icroaked.
“I’mguessingthemanwhodidthattoyou.”Hepointedtomythroat,thenopenedonesideofhisjacket,pullingoutapieceofpaperthathadbeenfoldedintoquarters.Hesplayeditopen,flatteningitonthetable.“CameacrossthisAPBfromyourlocalpolicestation.”
I’dneverreadorseenanAPBbefore.Ashespunitaroundtofaceme,armedanddangerouspracticallyleaptoffthepage.Therewasadescriptionofthemanfromtheriver,andevenreadingthewordsmademeshiver.Redhair.Browneyes.Six-inchscarrunningacrosshischeek,fromeyetochin.
Iwrappedmyarmsaroundmywaistasmystomachknotted.
IfIclosedmyeyes,Isawhisface.Atnight,whenItriedtosleep,Ifelthishandsonmythroat.Ifeltthemsqueeze.Ifeltthemrelease.
Friday,afterthatmanhadletmego,Ipickedmyselfupofftheriverbankandmademywaybacktomycar.Thetrekwasharrowing.Istumbledandtripped,strugglingtobreathe.
Panicfueledmyeverystep.Iwassurethatmanwasfollowingme.Thatmaybeitwassomesickandtwistedgametoletmego,onlytocapturemeoncemoreandfinishthejobthesecondtimearound.
Thankfully,itwasonlyparanoiaandfear.Imadeittomycar,andthemomentIslidintothedriver’sseatandlockedmydoors,mybodycollapsedagainstthesteeringwheel.
Cryinghadneverhurtsobadlyinmylife.ThesobsweresopainfulthatIforcedmyselftostop.AndwhenIpulledmyselftogetherenoughtoquelltheshaking,IcalledDad.
Whenlifegothard,Dadwasalwaysmyfirstcall.
Help.ThatwasallIsaid.AllIcouldsay.
Asplit-secondlater,hisreclinerclosedwithanaudiblesnap.Thencameadooropeningandclosingalongwiththejingleofkeys.
HeaskedmeifIwashurt.Yes.
HeaskedifIcoulddrive.Yes.
Gettothehospital,Lyla.I’dbeenstuckbeforethat,lockedinmyquietcar.Thatcommandfrommyfathersnappedmeintoaction.
WhileIdroveintotown,sodidDad.HestayedonthelinewithmeuntilIreachedQuincy.Thenhehunguptocallmysister.
TaliawaswaitingintheparkinglotwhenIpulledintoQuincyMemorial.Dadarrivedthirtysecondslater,havingbrokeneveryspeedlimitfromtheranchtotown.
Theytookasinglelookatmyfaceandneckandrushedmeintotheemergencyroom.WhileTaliadidherexam,Dadheldmyhand.
Shepromisedtherewasn’tanypermanentdamagetomywindpipe.Theswellingandbruisingwouldgetworsebeforeitgotbetter.Mybloodshoteyeswouldreturntonormal.Theblackeyeswouldfade.Shegavemeapainkillertogetmethroughtheworstofit.
Itwasn’tuntiltheexamwasoverthatDadbroke.Webothbroke.
Hisshoulderhadalwaysbeenmyfavoritetocryon,sothemomenthepulledmeintohisarms,Ifellapart.Totally.Thecryingjagdestroyedmyalreadywreckedthroat.
DadcalledWinn.WinncalledMom.MomcalledGriffin.Anhourlater,myentirefamilywascrowdedaroundmyhospitalbedtolistenwhileIrecountedtheentireordealtoWinn,mysister-in-law,Quincy’schiefofpolice.
IthadtakenmelongertoexplainhowI’dnearlybeenstrangledtodeaththantheactualstranglinghadtaken.Thathunterhadchokedmeforlessthantwentyseconds,yeteverytimeIreplayeditinmymind,itfeltlikehe’dhadmythroatinhisgripforaneternitybeforehe’dletmego.
Whyhadheletmego?
Vanceclearedhisthroat.
Ishookmyselfoutofmyhead.Itwasn’tthefirsttimeI’dgottenlostinmyownthoughtstoday.“Sorry.”
“Don’tbe.”Hetookhiswalletfromhisjeanspocket,riflingthroughtheleatherbillfold.Thenheslippedoutanoldphotographandhandeditover.“Isthishim?”
Igulped.MyheartclimbedintomythroatasIreachedforthephoto,bringingitcloser.MyhandstrembledasIstaredatthemanwho’dalmostmurderedme.
Redhair.Browneyes.Scarredface.
Hewassmilinginthepicture.Hishappinesswasjarring,likethishadbeentakenofadifferentmaninadifferentlifetime.Buttherewasnomistake.Itwasthemotherfucker.
“Yes.”
Vance’sentireframerelaxed,likehe’dhopedthatwouldbemyanswerbuthadbracedhimselffordisappointment.
Thephoto’sedgesweretattered.Itscolorsfaded.HowmanytimeshadVancehandedthispicturetosomeone?Orhaditbeenhisownfingersthathadtracedthecornersuntiltheywereroundedandsoft?
“Hashehurtpeoplebefore?”Iasked.
Vancenodded.
Idroppedthepicturelikeitwasaflame.“You’reheretofindhim.”
“Iam.”Hisdeep,gravellyvoicewasinfusedwithconfidence.ThatsuretywasasharpcontrasttothehopelessnessI’dfeltalldayafterWinn’supdatelastnight.
Aftershe’dtakenmystatementatthehospital,she’dsprungintoaction.Withinanhour,she’dissuedtheAPBwiththedescriptionI’dprovided.She’dengagedwiththecountysheriff’sdepartment,whohadactivatedthesearchandrescueteamtoscourthemountains.
Mydadandbrothershadbeenpartofthateffort.OvertwentypeopleandthreedogshadcombedovertheareawhereI’dbeenattacked.
They’dstayedoutlateFridaynight,wellpastdark,andhadfinallyreturnedtotownempty-handed.Yesterday,moreofthesame.Iftherewasatrailtofind,ithadbeenlost.
Thatassholehadescaped.
Winnwouldlikelybeheresoonwithanotherupdate.Ididn’texpectadifferentoutcome.
“Thelocalauthoritieshaven’tfoundhim,”ItoldVance.“Whatmakesyouthinkyoucan?”Maybeitwasmyraggedvoice,butIwasn’tsureI’deversoundedmorecynical.Maybeallittookwasonehorridexperiencetocrushaperson’spositivespirit.
“I’vebeensearchingforCormacforyears.”
Ishuddered.“That’shisname?”
“CormacGallagher.”Vancenodded,takingthephotofromthetableandreturningittohiswallet.
“Whoareyou?”Ilockedmygazewithhis.
Iwasn’tthetypeofpersonwhocouldspotlies.Trustingpeoplejustfelt…normal.Thedefault.ExceptI’dimmediatelygivenmytrusttothatman—Cormac—bytheriver.I’dassumedhewasgood.
SomaybeitwastimeIlearnedtospotuntruths.Tobewaryofthosewhocameintothisshop,VanceSutterincluded.
“I’macopfromCoeurd’Alene.Cormacisthemainsuspectinamurderinvestigation.”
“Oh.”
Cop.Cormac.Murder.Myheadwasspinning.
“Whodidhekill?”Wasitanotherinnocentwomanoutforahike?Howmanypeoplehadhekilled?Hadtheybeenstrangled?
Vance’sgazeflickedtothetable.Hestayedquiet.
Iknewwithoutaskinghewouldn’tanswer.Wasthatbetterorworsethanalietomyface?
Better
ExceptVancestillhadn’tansweredmypreviousquestion.Whydidhethinkhe’dhavedifferentluckthanWinn,thesheriffandateamofpeopletrainedtosearchthisareaformissinghikersorhunters?Peoplelikemydadandbrotherswho’dlivedheretheirentirelives?
“Whatmakesyousosureyoucanfindhim?”
“I’mnotsure.”Honestycoatedthatbaritonevoice.“I’vespentfouryearsfollowingdead-endleads.Thismightbeanother.Chancesare,he’slonggone.Butwhatifhe’snot?Thatwhat-ifisworthitformetobehere.You’rethefirstpersoninyearswhocanconfirmCormac’swhereabouts.”
“Luckyme,”Imuttered.
Vanceofferedakindsmile.“I’msorry.Forwhathedid,I’msorry.”
Everyonewassorry.Ididn’tneedpity.WhatIneededwasthatsonofabitchrottinginaprisoncell.
“OfallthepeopleI’veshownthatphoto,noonecouldtellmedefinitelyyesorno.Afewtimes,Iwentafterasuspectwithasimilardescriptionbutitturnedouttobesomeoneelse.I’mherebecauseIknowCormacbetterthananyonealive.AndI’dlikehimtobepunishedforwhathe’sdone.”
ItwaslikeVancecouldreadmythoughts.Theangerburninginmychestgavehisvoicearazor-sharpedge.“Metoo.”
“Look.”Heleanedhisforearmsonthetable,thosegray-blueirisesbrighteningwithintensity.Theyweresolighttheywerealmostclear.Mesmerizing.“Iunderstandifyou’drathernotgothroughitagain.You’vebeenthroughenough.ButI’dliketohearfromyouwhathappened.Askafewquestionsifyou’reupforit.”
WasIupforit?Itookasipofmytea,thewarmliquideasingsomeofthediscomfortinmythroat.
BeforeI’devenmadetheconsciousdecisiontotrustVance,mymouthopenedandthestorycamepouringout.FromEloiseencouragingmetogoonahike,tomypanic-fueleddrivetothehospital,IgaveVanceasmanydetailsasI’dgivenWinn.
Myvoicewassteady.Cold.ItwaslikeIwasreadingareport,notretellinganeventinmylife.Apparentlytwodayswasallithadtakenformetodetachfromthetrauma.Wasthatgoodorbad?
WhenIwasfinished,silencedescendeduponthetable.AcreaseformedbetweenVance’seyebrows,likehewastakingmystoryandpiecingittogetherwithwhateverhistoryhehadwiththisCormac.
“Whydidheletmego?”Iwhispered.
Vance’sgazesnappedtomine.HelookedasunsureasIfelt.“Idon’tknow.”
Ifhereallywasrunningfromthepolice,ifhereallydidintendtoescape,leavingmealivemadenosense.NowIwasawitness.
“Ihavenorighttoaskthis,butI’mgoingtoaskanyway,”hesaid.“Wouldyougowithme?Showmewherethishappened?”
Myheartseized.“Why?”
“Cormacisnotgoingtobeeasytotrack.It’swhyhe’sevadedusforsolong.Themorehelpyoucangiveme,thebetterchanceI’llfindatrail.”
Itshouldhavebeenaneasyno.VancecouldsyncupwithWinn.Hecouldworkwiththelocalsearchandrescueteamtoexplorethearea.Hedidn’tneedmeashisguide.
AndIsureashelldidn’tneedtogobackthere.Toreliveitinperson.Thememorywashardenough.
“Nicetomeetyou,Mr.Sutter.”Ipushedawayfromthetable,andwithmyteainhand,Iwalkedtothecounter,passingCrystalasIheadedstraightforthekitchen.Mysanctuary.
ThemomentIwasoutofsight,IletoutthebreathI’dbeenholding.MyheartracedasIplantedmyhandsonmypreptable,closingmyeyesasawaveofnervesmademystomachroil.ItwaseitherfromtellingVancemystoryorjusttheideaofreturningtothatspot.
CouldIgoback?ShouldI?
“Lyla?”
Iopenedmyeyesatmytwinsister’svoice,twistingtothedoorasTaliarushedinside.Shewasdressedinbluescrubs.Herbabybumpwasstartingtostretchhertop.Notbyalot,butenoughthatyoucouldtellshewaspregnantwithmyfuturenieceornephew,whoIplannedtospoilrotten.
“Areyouokay?”Shetuggedatmyscarf,pullingitdowntoinspectmyneck.
“Fine.”Iwavedheroff,takingthedamnthingoffentirely.Itwastoohotinthekitchenforascarf.TomorrowI’dsufferinaturtleneckinstead.
“Youpushedtoohardtoday.”Talia’seyebrowsknittedtogether.SheworethesameconcernshehadsinceFriday.ThesameexpressionIsawoneveryotherfaceinmyfamily.
Ishookmyhead,notwantingtospeak.TalkingtoVancehadzappedmyenergy,andmythroatwasrawandragged.
“Please,Lyla.Gohome.Youneedtorest.”
Ishookmyheadagain,givingherasadsmile.
Talia’sshouldersslumped.Thecornersofhermouthturneddown.Hereyesturnedglassybutshedidn’tletatearfall.
Mysisterdidn’tcryinfrontofothers.Atleast,notoften.Shehadthissteel,thisincrediblestrength.WhatevertragedywalkedthroughtheER’sdoorsatthehospital,shetookitinstride.
Me?Iwastheblubberingmess.Showmeasappyvideoonsocialmediaortellmeasadstory,I’dcryarivernexttotheespressomachinewithacrowdofcustomersaroundtowatch.
YethereIwas,thedry-eyedsisterintheroom.Meanwhile,Talialookedlikeshewasabouttocrack.
“Wanttotalkaboutit?Orwriteitout?”sheasked.“Tosaveyourvoice.”
“No.”Ishookmyhead.
“Areyousure?Itmighthelp.”
Ishookmyheadagain.
Normally,IharpedonTaliatoopenupandconfessherfeelings.Iencouragedhertotalkandairherstruggles—sherarelydid.Strange,howwe’dswappedroles.
Everythingfeltdifferent.ThatbastardhadtippedourworldsupsidedownandIjust…Ididn’twanttocry.Ididn’twanttobehuggedorcoddled.Ididn’twanttotalk.
Iwantedjustice.IwantedrevengesobadlyIcouldbarelyseestraight.AndsinceWinnhadyettoapprehendCormacGallagher,allIhadtokeepmysanityintactwaswork.
SoIforcedasmileandreachedforTalia’shand,holdingittightwhenherpalmtouchedmine.ThenIlethergoandwalkedtothefridge,takingouttheingredientsforcinnamonrolls.
Taliastayedforanhour,watchingmeworkinsilence.Isentherhomewithato-gocontainerofsoupsosheandFosterwouldn’thavetocookdinner.ThenIspenttherestoftheeveningalternatingbetweenworkandansweringtextmessagesfrommyothersiblingsandparents.
Winncameintotheshoptenminutesbeforeweclosedatseven.Iknewimmediatelybythelookonherprettyfacethatshewasn’theretodelivergoodnews.
“Hi.”Shepulledmeintoatighthug.“Youokay?”
“Sure,”Ilied.“Findanything?”
Herdarkponytailswishedassheshookherhead.“I’msorry.Searchandrescuedidanothersweepoftheareawiththedogs.Theyputthemontheelkagaintoday,havingthemtrackit.Butaboutamileawayfromtheriver,theylostthescent.”
“Shit.”Iclosedmyeyes,disappointmentsettlinglikeathousandpoundsonmyshoulders.
“I’mnotgivingup.”Winntookmyhand.“Ipromise.”
“Iknowyouwon’t,”Iwhispered.
Winnwoulddoeverythinginherpowerforourfamily.Buttherewasnomissingthedarkcirclesbeneathhereyesthathadbeenthereforweeks.Eversincetheshootingatthehotel.
Quincywassupposedtobeasafetown.Shootingsandstrangulationsweren’tsupposedtohappenhere.Everythingwasfallingapart.
AndWinntooksomuchofthatonherself.Toomuch.
Iwanted,morethananything,forCormactobeapprehended.ButifWinncouldn’tbringhimin,howheavywouldthatweighonheralreadyburdenedheart?
MygazeflickedtotheemptytablewhereVancehadsatearlier.Whatifhewastheanswer?
“Doyouwantdinner?”IaskedWinn.
“No,that’sokay.Griffcalledonmywayhereandsaidhewasmakingburgers.”
Someofthestressliftedfromherfaceatmybrother’sname.Ihadnodoubtshe’dgohometotheranch,tohisarmsandtheirtwochildren,andthesparklewouldreturntoherdeep-bluegaze.
“Wanttocomeout?”sheasked.“Youcouldspendthenight.”
Ishookmyhead.“I’mgoingtocleanuphere,thengohome.”Ahot,steamyshowermighttakeawaysomeofthepain.MaybetonightIcouldactuallygetsomesleep.
“Yousure?”
Inodded,loopingmyarmwithhersandwalkinghertothedoor.
“We’reallworriedaboutyou.”
Isighed.“I’llbefine.”
“Weallknowthattoo.Butwe’restillgoingtoworry.”Winnpulledmeintoahug,thensteppedoutside,liftingahandassheclimbedintohervehicle.
WaitinguntilhertaillightsweretwoblocksdownMain,Ishutthedoor,twistingthelock.ThenIshutoffhalfthelights,leavingtheothersontoilluminatethespaceasIswept,moppedthefloorandstackedchairs.
Crystalhadofferedtostayandclosetonight,butI’dsentherhome.Sundayeveningswereslow,andaftershe’dleft,notasinglecustomerhadcomein,allowingmetocleanthekitchenspace.
Ittooklessthanthirtyminutesformetofinishclosingup.TheshopsmelledlikesugarandvanillaandthecitruspolishIusedonthehardwoods.IwasabouttoshutofftherestofthelightswhenIglancedoutthefrontwindows.
Atallfigurestrodedownthesidewalkontheoppositesideofthestreet,movingtowardthehotel.
Vance
Hewalkedwithhishandsburiedinhisjacketpockets.Thestreetlampslithisbroadframe.Heseemedinnorush,hisgazerovingineverydirectionlikehewastryingtomemorizeQuincy.Ormaybehewashopingthatifhelookedcloseenough,he’dfindacluethatwouldleadhimtoCormac.
WasIthatclue?
Iflippedthelockonthefrontdoor,thenIputmyfingerstomylips,whistlingthewayDadhadtaughtmeasakid.
Thenoisesplitthenightair.
Vancestopped.Turned.
Inodded.
Whenhewasready,whetherIwasornot,I’dtakehimtotheriver.CHAPTERFOURVANCE
Thebellonthecoffeeshop’sdoorgreetedmeasIsteppedinside.Thejinglewaslight.Cheerful.ThechimedidnothingtostopthetornadoofanticipationanddreadthathadbeentwistingmyinsidessinceI’dclimbedoutofbedatthreethismorning.
ThefivecupsofcoffeeI’dguzzledhadn’thelpedmyfrazzlednerves.Pacingmyhotelroomhadmademefeellikeananimaltrappedinacage,sowellbeforedawn,I’dsetouttoexploreQuincy,asIhadlastnight.
Theairwascold,mybreathbillowingasIwalked.Mybootslefttracksinthefrostthatcoatedthesidewalks.Thesunwasbeginningtocreeptowardthemountaintops,burnishingtheirtipsingold,buttheskywasstilldark.Theonlylightintowncamefromstreetlampsandporchlights.NearlyeverybuildingonMainwasdark,saveTheEloiseInn.
AndEdenCoffee.
Thecaféwasempty.Thetablesoneachsideoftheaislewerelinedinneatrows.Thechairswerepushedin,readytobeshiftedandfilled.
Thebaristafromyesterdayrushedoutfromthebackhallway,atowelinherhands.“Goodmorning.”
“Morning,”Isaid.
“WhatcanIgetyou?”
BeforeIcouldanswer,Lylaemergedfromthesamehallway.Herstepsfaltered,onlyslightly,whenshespottedme.
Icouldstillhearherwhistlefromlastnight.Itechoedinmymind,justlikethesightofherstandinginthecoffeeshop’sdoorwayseemedimprintedonmybrain.
Beautiful.Brave,Lyla.
“Hi.”Hervoicewasjustasjaggedasithadbeenyesterday.“I’lltakecareofhim,Crystal.”
“Okay.”Crystalnodded,thenhurriedaway.
“Hi.”Icametoastopatthecounter,takinginLyla’sface,searchingforanysignofdoubt.Ahintthatshe’dchangedhermind.Butiftherewasanyuncertaintyracingthroughthatprettyhead,shedidn’tletitshow.
Wehadn’tspokenlastnight.Wehadn’ttradeddetailsorphonenumbers.There’djustbeenthatwhistle.
Thenshe’dretreatedinsidethecoffeeshopwhileI’dlingeredoutside,watchingasthelightswentout.
“Wouldyoulikeanythingbeforewego?”sheasked.
“Coffee.Black.”Ireachedformywalletbutshewaveditoff.
Withpracticedefficiency,shefilledapaperto-gocupandfitteditwithacollarandlid.
Noscarftoday.Lylaworeablackturtlenecksweatertocoverherthroatinstead.Itfitherframe,moldingaroundherslendershouldersandthecurveofherbreasts.Thecollaritselfclimbedherjaw,concealingnearlyeverybruisesaveforthosedirectlybelowherears.Butshe’dkeptherlong,darkhairdowntoday,thesilky,chocolatestrandsdrapingnearlytoherwaist.Theloosewaveshidmostofwhatthesweaterdidn’t.
“Fiveminutes?”Shesetmycoffeeonthecounter.
“Takeyourtime.”Itookmycoffeeandwalkedtothefrontwindows,sippingthescaldingliquidasIpeeredoutatthesleepystreet.AsingletruckhadrolledbyinthetimeittookLylatogatherhercoatandpullaslouchyknithatoverherhair.
Shetuckedherphoneinhercoatpocket.IfIhadtoguess,she’dturnedonherlocationservices.Ormaybeshe’dtoldCrystalorafriendwherewewereheadedinfearthatIwasaserialkiller.
“Wouldyouliketodrive?”sheasked,tuggingonapairofgloves.
“Sure.”Iopenedthedoorforher—earningmoreofthathappyjingle—thenIledthewaytomytruck,parkedoutsidethehotel.
LylanoddedherthankswhenIopenedthedoorforher,thensheclimbedinasImademywaytothedriver’sside.
“Howareyoufeelingtoday?”Iputthetruckinreversebutkeptmyfootonthebrake.“Yousureaboutthis?”
“Yes.”Nohesitation.Thecatchinhervoicehadnothingtodowithachangeofheart,justthelingeringeffectsofherwounds.“Headnorth.”
“Allright.”Iletgoofthebrakeandfollowedherinstructions.
Aswehittheedgeoftownandspeddownthehighway,mypulsequickened.Iwasn’tsureifitwasheranxietyormine,butthetensioninthetruckbecamesothick,soheavy,thatIcouldhardlybreathe.
Thiswasbreakingalltherules.Thiswentagainsteveryprotocol,everycourtesy,thathadbeendrilledintomesincetheacademy.Byrights,Ishouldhavecheckedinwiththelocalauthoritiesyesterday.
I’dalwaysplayedbytherules.I’dalwaysbeenconsiderateofotherdepartments.Wherehadthatgottenme?
Cormacwasstillonthelam,andI’dspentfouryearsduckingunderredtape
Riskyasitwas,Iwasforgingmyownpaththistime.I’dmakemyownrules.AndifIactuallyfoundCormac,well…I’dpraytheFBIdidn’tcarehowhewasfound,justgratefulthathe’dbeonelesspersonontheirmost-wantedlists.
Lylashiftedinherseat,herkneesbouncingasshepointeddowntheroad.“Takealeftuphere.”
“’Kay.”Ieasedoffthegas.Partofmewantedtoaskagainifshewasokay.Giveheranotherchancetoturnthistruckaround.ButIwastoodesperate.Tooscaredshe’dtaketheoutifoffered.SoItooktheleftanddrummedupsomeidleconversation.“HowlonghaveyoulivedinQuincy?”
“Otherthanforschool,mywholelife.MyfamilyfoundedQuincy.”
“Nokidding.”
“You’restayingatTheEloise,right?”
“Iam.”Itwastheonlyhotelaround.
“Mygreat-great-grandmotherwasEloise.Nowmyyoungersister,hernamesake,ownsit.There’sanongoingjokearoundtownthatyoucan’tthrowarockdownMainwithouthittinganEden.”
“Ah.WouldIhavemetanyotherrelatives?”
“MybrotherKnoxownsKnucklesandistheheadchef.”
“Iwasplanningondinnertheretonight.Anyoneelse?”
“Probablynot.”SheclearedherthroatandIexpectedhertostoptalking,butshekeptongoing,likeifshestopped,herfearswouldwinout.“Mytwinsister,Talia,isadoctoratthehospital.Myparentsliveonmyfamily’sranch.Sodomyotherbrothers.Bothareonthesearchandrescueteamalongwithmydad.Mysister-in-lawisWinslowEden.She’sthechiefofpolice.”
Forfuck’ssake.
Somuchforsteeringclearofthelocalauthorities.Goddamnit.Whatwerethechances?
Idraggedahandovermyface,feelingthescrapeofmywhiskersagainstmypalm.
LylawasmyonlyconnectiontoCormac,andgivenmytypicalshittyluck,shewasalsorelatedtothechiefofpolice.Hello,redtape.
MycaptaininIdahowouldundoubtedlybegettingaphonecall.Andthatwouldleadtoquestions.Lotsandlotsofquestions.
Fuck.Ididn’tneedthemessathomeinfectingwhatIwastryingtodohereinQuincy
“Listen,Lyla.”Iglancedover,herstrikingbluegazewaiting.“Ihaven’tspokentoanyoneinQuincyaboutthis.IfIwasfollowingprotocol,Ishouldhavecheckedinwithyoursister-in-lawalready.”
“Whyhaven’tyou?”
“IguessyoucouldsayIhavetrustissueswithothercops.”Anunderstatement.Inmorewaysthanshe’deverunderstand.“LikeItoldyouyesterday,I’vebeensearchingforCormacforfouryears.There’sneverbeenmuchtogoon.Hedisappearedandhasbeenslippery.”
Anotherunderstatement.
Lyla’sattentionstayedfixedonmyprofileasIspoke.Herhandsremainedclaspedinherlap.Forhersake,I’dspareherthedetailsofCormac’scrimes.Butformyown,Ineededhertostickwithme.Toseethisthrough,justfortoday.
“Earlyon,whenthemediawasalloverthestory,tipsandsightingspouredinlikeaspringflood.Mostofthemwerebogus.Peopleclaimedthey’dseenhimbutcouldn’tprovideanydetails.Still,wefolloweduponnearlyeverytip.ThentheFBIgotinvolved.Theagentinchargeshoveduslocalcopsoutoftheway.Didn’twantanyinput.”Especiallyfromme.
Iwastooclosetothemurders.Likebeinginvested,dedicated,wasabadthing.
“Ispentayearwatchingthemchasetheirtailsuntiltheymovedontoothercasesandthisonefelltothewayside.”
Thatfirstyear,ithadn’tbeeneasygleaninginformationfromthefederalteam,butI’dkeptmyeartothegroundandhaddoneeverythinginmypowertostayintheloop.
“WilltheFBIcomehere?”Lylaasked.
“Maybe.”TherewasachancethattheagentassignedtoCormac’sopencasewouldcomeacrosstheAPB.Thatthey’dputthepiecestogethertoo.ButIwascountingonsluggishfederalprocessestodelaytheirinvolvement.Maybeitwouldgetoverlookedentirely.
Thesadtruthofitwas,withoutmediaattentionorpressurefromfamilymembers,caseswereoftenforgotten,especiallythosethathadbeenopenforasignificantamountoftime.AndwhenitcametoCormac,theonlypersonwhotrulyseemedtocareaboutjusticeforthegirlswasme.
“AftertheFBIbasicallygaveup,Istartedmyowninvestigation.”Notexactlylegal,consideringI’dbeenusingpolicedatabasestogleaninformation,butIhadn’tbeencaught.Yet.
“IwatchedforcrimesandcriminalswhomatchedCormac’sdescription,”ItoldLyla.“Mostofthetime,itledmeonawildgoosechase.Acoupleyearsago,amanmatchinghisdescriptionrobbedagasstationinOregon.Eighteenmonthsago,therewasaguywho’dstolenatruckinWyomingwithredhairandasimilarbuild.IwenttoOregon.IwenttoWyoming.Italkedtothelocalauthorities.ThemaninWyomingwassomeoneelse.ButI’mfairlyconfidentCormacwasinOregon.Inbothcases,bythetimeIconvincedthelocalcopstoletmeintotheloop,anychanceatfindingCormacwasgone.”
“Sothistime,youcamestraighttothesource.”
Inodded.“Yeah.”
“Howdidyouknowitwasme?”
“Ididn’t,”Itoldher.“Itwasaguess.”
“Goodguess.”
Ikeptdriving,waitingforhertoordermebacktoQuincy.Waitingforhertocallhersister-in-lawandblowmyplantosmithereens.
“Seethatturnoutupahead?”
“Yeah.”Thatwaswhereshe’dtellmetoflipthistruckaround.
“That’swhereIparked.We’llwalkfromthere.”
Thankfuck.Islowed,easingintotheturnout.Whenwewereparked,IfacedLyla,abouttogiveheronelastchancetocallthisoff.Butshewasalreadygone,openingthedoortostepoutside.
Beneathmycoat,myGlockwasinitsshoulderholster.Isnaggedmypackfromthebackseat,stowingmykeys,thenIjoinedLylaoutside.
Shestoodnexttothetruck,hereyesaimedattheforestahead.“Myfamilyisprotective.”
“Theydon’tknowyou’reherewithmetoday.”
“No.”Sheshookherhead.
“Why’dyoucome?”Whenshe’dleftthetableatthecoffeeshopyesterday,I’dexpectedthattobethelastI’dhearfromher.Buthereshewas,shoulderspinned,handsfisted.
ThatbraveryI’dseeninherlastnightshinedasbrightasthedawn.
“Winnisagoodcop.”Shelookedupatme,waitinguntilourgazeslocked.“I’mnotherebecauseIdon’thavefaithinher.Butshehasenoughtoworryabout.”
“Theyareprotectiveofyou.Andyou’reprotectiveofthem.”
Shegavemeasinglenod.“Iwanthimtorotinprisonfortherestofhislife.”
“Areyouexpectingmetoargue?”
“I’mexpectingyoutodowhatyoucameheretodo.Findhim.”
Theferocityinhervoice,thesteadiness.Therewasnorasp.Nocrack.“Thenlet’sgo.”
Shereleasedabreath,thenmarchedintothetrees,takingaroughpaththathadn’tseenmuchuse.Thistrailwaslikelyonlyusedbylocals.Fishermen.Hunters.
Wewalkedinsilence,theonlysoundcomingfromtheforestitself.Birdschirping.Leavesandboughsrustlinginthebreeze.AtwigsnappedbeneathLyla’sbootasshewalked.Myownthuddedonthecool,dampearth.
Inthedistance,theripplingsoundoftherivergrewlouder.Therushandtrickleofwateroverrockssoonoverpoweredtheothernoises.
Lylaturnedcourse,steppingoffthepathtoweavepasttrees.Whenweemergedfromtheforestontotheriverbank,shestopped.
Herhandcametoherthroatassheswallowed.
“Yougood?”
Lyla’sfacewhippedtomine.Sheblinked,likeshe’dforgottenIwasstandingatherside.
Damn,butshehadbeautifuleyes.Blue.Broken.
Thishikewasn’tjustaboutsavinghersister-in-lawsomeheartache,wasit?ItwasaboutLylafacingthisplaceonherownterms.
“Youcandothis.”
“Icandothis,”shewhispered,hereyesfallingclosed.Whensheopenedthemagain,thefearwasgone.Initsplacewasiron.
Shewalkedahead,followingtheriver’spath.
Istayedclose.Alert.
Thescentofrotdriftedonthewind.Thecawofacrowsplittheair.
Lylastoppedwalkingandliftedahand,pointingtowherethelargeblackbirdjumpedfromarockandtookflight.“Thatwaswherethegutpilewas.Fromtheelkhekilled.”
Scavengershadpickedtheareanearlyclean.Largeranimals,likecoyotesorbears,musthavedraggedtherestofthecarcasstoadifferentplacetofeast.Allthatremainedwereafewdriedbitsofentrailsandacircleofblack-reddriedblood.
“Afterheletyougo,anyideawhichwayheran?”
“No.”Lylashookherhead.“Iwasoutofit.”
“Doyourememberhearingwatersplash?”
“Idon’tthinkso.”
TherewasachanceCormachadcrossedtheriver.Ormaybehe’dgoneupstreamandcrossedoutofsight.
“They’vebeensearchingupherefordays,”Lylasaid.“Winncametothecoffeeshoplastnight.Shetoldmethatthedogslosthistrail.Doyouthinkthat’sbecausehewentthroughthewater?”
“Dogscanscentthroughwater.ButCormacisverygoodatcoveringhistracks.”Heknewhowsearchandrescuedogsweretrained.Andheknewhowtoavoiddetection.
IwalkedtotheremainsoftheanimalCormachadhunted.Ithadtobeforfood.Meaningtherewasachancehe’dbuilthimselfashelteraroundhere.Possiblyaplacehe’dintendedtostayduringthewinter.
“DidWinnsayanythingaboutsearchandrescuefindingtheremainsoftheelkhekilled?Yousaidhe’dquarteredit,right?”IaskedLyla.
“That’swhatitlookedlike.IthinkIcameacrosshimwhenhewasaboutdone.Thereweregamebagsstrappedtohispack.Andhisbow.”
Anelkwasalargeanimal.Ifhe’dkeptmostofthemeat,he’dhavetodryit.Preserveit.Otherwisehewouldhavegoneaftersmallergame.Rabbitsorfishwereforasinglemeal.Butanelk?Thatwaslong-termsustenance.
“Howwelldoyouknowthisarea?”Istood,returningtoLyla.“Aretherecavesanywhere?”
“Idon’tknow.Mybrothersmight.”
“Idoubtthey’llbeaswillingtotalktomewithoutthepoliceintheroom.”
Shebarkedadrylaugh,wincingatthepainitcaused.“Probablynot.”
“That’sallright.”Iturnedinacircle,mentallycommittingafewlandmarkstomemorysothatwhenthecarcassofthatelkwaswellandtrulygone,I’dstillhaveareferencepoint.“Thisgivesmeaplacetostart.Let’sheadback.”
Beforethelocalauthoritiescameoutexploringontheirowntoday.
Lylaturned,abouttoleadthewaybackintotheforest,butpaused.Shespunherowncircle,slowly.Deliberately.“Thisusedtobemyfavoritehikingtrail.”
Usedtobe.Cormachadstolenitfromher.“I’msorry.”
“Whydidheletmego?”
Itwasthesecondtimeshe’daskedthatquestion.ThesecondtimeIcouldn’tgiveherananswer.
Onemoment,shewasstaringforward,thenextshewhirledsoquicklythatherbootcaughtonarock.
Myarmsshotout,catchingheratthewaistbeforeshecouldfall.
Herhandsgrippedmybicepsassherightedherfeet.Butshedidn’tstepawayonceshehadherbalance.
AndIdidn’tlethergo.
Oureyesclashed,andforamoment,Iletmyselfdrowninthosesapphireirises.Theinnercirclewasablue,brightandstriatedwithwhite.Theouterringwasdark,almostnavy,liketheskybeforeathunderstorm.
MyGod,shehadstunningeyes.Ileanedincloser,drawntothatblue.Thenmygazeshiftedtothatrosypinkmouth.
Lylablinkedandbrokeaway.Herbreathhitchedandsheduckedherchin,movingpastmeforthetrees.
Fuck.WhatthehellwasIdoing?Iscrubbedahandovermyface,clearingthefog,thenturnedawayfromtheriver.
LylaledthewaytotheDodgewithoutabackwardglance.SheclimbedinsideassoonasIhitthelocks.
Iroundedthehood,stowingmypackintherearseat.ThenItookadeepbreath,readytoapologizethemomentIwasbehindthewheel.ButjustasIhoppedinside,asnifflefilledthecab.
AtearfelldownLyla’scheek.Withoutthinking,Ireachedoutandcaughtit
Herblueeyessnappedtomine.
Insteadoftakingmyhandaway,insteadofobeyingthatinvisibleboundaryacrosstheconsolethatmarkedherhalfofthetruckfrommine,Iskimmedhersmoothcheek.Myfingertipsforgedthetrailthattearwouldhavetaken.AllwhileIletmyselfgetsuckedinbythosecobaltpoolsoncemore.
Whatwasitaboutthiswoman?WhatwasitaboutthoseeyesIfoundsoentirelytempting?
Myheartpounded,skippingeveryotherbeat.Icouldn’tseemtotakemyhandawayfromherface.MyGod,shewasbeautiful.
Herskinwasimpossiblysmooth.Shehadaperfectnose,straightandpretty.Herchincametoasoftpoint.Shesmelledincredible,likesugarandvanillaandcinnamon.
Hermouthparted.Andthistime,itwashergazethatshiftedfirst,droppingtomymouth.
Ileanedcloser,drawnbythemagnetthatwasLylaEden,andahardedgedugintomyrib.
TheGlock.
Iwaswearingmygun.BecauseI’dbroughtLylaupheretotrackamurderer.Herattemptedmurderer.Andforfuck’ssake,IwasactinglikeI’dkissher.Again.
Idroppedmyhand,shiftingbothpalmstothesteeringwheel.
“I,um…”Ihittheignition.“I’lldriveyouhome.”
“Thecoffeeshop.Please.”
“Sure.”
Thesilenceonthedrivetotownwasmiserable.Neitherofusspoke,aboutCormacortheriverorwhateverthehellhadhappenedbetweenus.
Something.Chemistrymaybe?I’dneverfeltanythinglikethatinmylife.Whateveritwas,onethingwascertain,Ididn’ttrustmyselftostareintoherblueeyes.SoIkeptmygazefixedontheroad,andLylastudiedwhateverstreakedpastherpassengerwindow.
WhenIparkedinfrontofEdenCoffee,Iexpectedhertoflyoutthedoor.
Instead,shetwistedtofaceme.“Iwon’ttellWinnwhatyou’redoing.Oranyone.”
“I’mnotaskingyoutokeepasecretfromyourfamily.”Icouldn’taskthat.
“Weallhavesecrets.”
Truerwordshadneverbeenspoken.“Thankyou.”
“Whatwillyoudo?”
“Spendsometimescoutingthearea.Startwithmaps.Makeagrid.Checktheboxes,onebyone.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkhe’sstillaround?”
“Hemightnotbe,”Itoldher,wantingtosetherexpectationsforfailureratherthansuccess.
“Butyou’lllookanyway?”
Inodded.“I’lllookanyway.”
Shegavemeasadsmile.“Wantsomebreakfast?”
Breakfast.Shewasinvitingmetobreakfast,evenafterI’dactedlikeadipshit.Thetensioncreptfrommyshoulders.Myspinerelaxed.“Yeah.I’dlikebreakfast.”
“Comeonin.”
Withmybackpackoverashoulder,Ifollowedherintothecoffeeshop.Gonewasthequiet,stillcaféfromearlier.Customersoccupiedoverhalfthetables.Alinethree-deephadformedatthecounter.
LylaheadedthatdirectiontohelpoutwhileItookachairatthesametableI’deatenatyesterday,theoneclosesttothewindow,soIcouldwatchoutacrossMain.ThenIdugthroughmybag,pullingouttheareamapsI’dboughtyesterdayatthehardwarestore.
Twentyminuteslater,aplateappearedinfrontofme.Onitwaswhatlookedlikeacherryturnover.Nexttoit,abreakfastsandwich.Lylasetdownasteamingmugoffresh,blackcoffee.
Wedidn’tspeak.Toanyoneelseintheroom,Iwasjustanotherpatron.
Butthoseblueeyesfoundminethroughoutthemorning.
Andinthem,aflickerofhope.
Hopeinme.
Ithadbeenalongtimesincesomeonehadgivenmeblindfaith.
MyresolvetofindCormacturnedtosteel.He’dpayforhurtingher.
Tomorrow,I’dbeginmysearch.
ForNorah.Forthegirls.
ForLyla.CHAPTERFIVELYLA
WheneverthebellrangatEdenCoffee,Ismiled.Aftersomanyyears,itwasautomatic.
JingleSmile.
I’dtrainedmyearstolistenforthatding.Evenfromthekitchen,Icouldhearwhensomeonecameintotheshop.ButthewayI’dlistenedforthatbellinthepastthreedayswasnothinglessthanobsessive.
Wheneveritrang,myattentionwhipped,notwandered,tothedoor.Mybreathwouldcatchandhold,hopingitwasVance.Eachtimeitwasn’t,I’dhidemydisappointmentinthatautomaticsmile.AndI’dwait,greetingcustomeraftercustomer,wonderingwhenhe’dfinallystopby.
Until,likenow,thatbellchimedforVance.AndthesmileIgavehimwasfilledwithrelief.
Thecoilofanticipationthathadbeenwindingtighterandtighterastheafternoonworeonsprangloose.Thestiffnessinmyspinemeltedashestrodeintothecafé,tuggingoffapairofleathergloves.
Vance’slonglegsmadeshortworkofthespace.Thehalf-smilethattuggedatthecornerofhismouthmademyheartskip.Hestoppedonhissideofthecounter,bringingwithhimthescentofcleansoapandearthandwind.“Hey.”
“Hi.”Evenwiththeraspinmyvoice,itcameoutbreathy.Thismanmademenervous,inagoodway.“Youwereoutinthemountains.”
Henodded.“Iwas.”
“Anything?”
“Notyet.”
He’dgivenmethesameanswerforthepastthreedays.ButIlikedthathesaidnotyetinsteadofno.Thesubtledifferencemeanthestillhadhope.
SoI’dkeepsomeformyselftoo.
“Coffee?”Imovedforamug,expectinghimtonod.Hedid.“Hungry?”
“Iam.”HereachedforhiswalletbutIshookmyhead.Vancepulledoutatwentyanyway,settingitonthecounter.NomatterhowmanytimesIofferedtogivehimameal,heinsistedonpaying.“Surpriseme.”
“Allright.”Ibitbackasmile,fillinghismug.WhenIsetitonthecounter,hetookitandretreatedtothetablebythewindow.Thesametablehesatateachday,inthesamechair.
Vance’schair.
Myfamilymembersdidn’thavearegulartable,noareainthecaféthatIconsideredtheirs.Butsomehow,inlessthanaweek,Vancehadclaimedthatspotashis.Wheneveranothercustomersatthere,itirkedme.
Luckily,everyafternoonwhenhe’dcometotheshop,thatchairandtablehadbeenempty.
Vancewassettlingintoaroutine.He’deatalatelunch.He’ddrinkafewcupsofcoffee.Andhe’dsithereforanhour,sometimestwo,reviewingmapsandnotes.
Wehadn’tspokenmuchsincethatdaywe’dhikedalongtheriver.PartiallybecauseIwasn’texactlychattyatthemoment.PartiallybecauseIdidn’tknowwhattosay.
Somethinghadhappenedbetweenus.First,alongtheriver.Then,inhistruck
Whenwelockedeyes,itwasliketheworldaroundusvanished.Liketherewasthisropecinchingustogether.
Thepaininmythroatwasgone.ThefearCormachadplantedinmymind,erased.Theturmoilinmyheart,ancienthistory.
Therewereonlyhiseyesthecolorofawinterstorm.
Wouldhehavekissedme?WouldIhavelethim?
Witheverythinghappeninginmylife,thelastthingIneededwassomeromanticattachmentwithastranger.YetIcouldn’tstopmypulsefromquickeningwhenhewasintheroom.Icouldn’tfighttheblushofmycheekswhenhegavemethatcrookedsmile.
AndnomatterhowmanytimesItoldmyselftoleavethemanbe,myattentionwanderedtohischairasautomaticallyasthejingle,smile
Vancewasleft-handed.SomethingI’dlearnedinthelastthreedays.Healwaysdrankhiscoffeeblack.Heseemedtolikemyfood—Ihadyettoclearaplatewithmorethanacrumbleftbehind.
Hisdarkhairwasunrulyandamonthoverdueforacut.Butliketoday,hecovereditwithabeanie.Afterhe’dwarmup,usuallyafterhisfirstcupofcoffee,he’dshrugoutofhiscoatbutthehatwouldstayon.Hisbeardwasfillingout,thescruffbecomingthickereachday.Sexier.
AndwheneverImethisgaze,theworldtiltedbeneathmyfeet,likemystomachwasfullofbutterfliestryingtheirhardesttocarrymeaway.
MaybeIwasjustimaginingasparkbetweenus.MaybeIwasclingingtoanythingthatseemednormal,andcrushingonanincrediblyhandsomemanfeltnormal.MaybeIwasdrawntohimbecausehemademefeelsafe.
Whateverthereason,Vancewasconstantlyonmymind.
Didhefeelthattethertoo?Moreoftenthannot,whenI’dlookovertohischair,hisstormygazewouldbewaiting.
ImadeVanceasandwich—grilledchickenwithavocado—anddeliveredittohistablewithapastryfromthedisplaycase,leavinghimtoeat.Asothertablesemptied,Icleareddishestothekitchen,workingquietly.Efficiently.FeelingVance’sgazeonmeeachtimeIlefttheroomandreturned.
Thebelljingledagain.Mysmileappeared.Myattentionwasn’tasquicktoshifttothedoor,knowingthatitwasn’tVance.
ItwasWinn.
Herexpressionwasgranite,hershouldersstiff.Mystomachpitched.Thiswasn’tmysister-in-lawcomingtocheckonme.Thiswasthechiefofpoliceheretodeliveranupdateforthevictim.
Fuck,Ihatedthatword.
Winndidn’tsomuchasglanceinVance’sdirection.Butoverhershoulder,hetrackedhereverystep.Thebadgeonherbelt,besidehergun,wasimpossibletomisstodaysinceshehadn’twornacoat.
“Hi,”Isaidwarily.
“Hey.”Herfacesoftened.“Gotaminute?”
“I’mnotgoingtolikewhatyouhavetotellme,amI?”
Shegavemeasadsmile.“Probablynot.”
Isighed.“Wecantalkinthekitchen.”
Crystalwasofftoday.Nowthatmyblackeyeshadfadedenoughthatmyconcealercoulddoadecentjobcoveringthemup,I’dgivenheradayoff.She’dbeenamazing,jumpingintohelpwithlongerthannormalhours.
Iwasstillsportingturtlenecksandscarvestohidemythroat,butdaybyday,Iwashealing.Theevidenceoftheattackwasvanishing.
Winnfollowedmeintothekitchen,standingbesidethepreptablewithherarmscrossed.“SheriffZalinskijustcamebythestation.”
“And?”
“They’recallingoffthesearch.”
“Ithasn’tevenbeenaweek.”
“Iknow,”shesaidgently.
“Sixdaysandhe’salreadygivingup.”
“I’msorry.”Winncamecloser,puttingherhandonmyshoulder.“Itriedtotalkhimintoanotherfewdays,butherefused.”
Mymolarsgroundtogetherasangersurged.“Thisisbullshit.”
“Yep.”Hernostrilsflared.“Icalledthemayorbuthewasout,soIleftamessage.Maybehe’llhavemoreluckchangingZalinski’smind.”
“Fingerscrossed,”Ideadpanned.
SheriffZalinskiwasalazyasshole.Inevershouldhavevotedforhim.
Searchandrescuefellunderthesheriff’sumbrella.Theteamhadafewdedicatedemployeeswhoservedthegreatercountyarea,butthemajorityofsearchandrescuememberswerelocalvolunteers.People,likemydadandbrothers,whohadlivesoftheirown.
IbetZalinskiwasgettingpressurefromsomeofthevolunteerstocallitquits,andthespinelessbastardwascaving.
“Nowwhat?”Iasked.
“We’vegottheAPBposted.Everyoneatthestationknowstokeepaneyeoutforaredheadedmanmatchinghisheightandbuildwithascar.Thesamegoesforthesheriff’sdeputies.”
CormacGallagher.
Winndidn’thaveanametoputwiththatdescriptionbecauseshehadn’tmetVance.Becausehehadn’tfollowedprotocol.
Maybeitwasfoolish,butIkeptmymouthshut.
Zalinskihadgivenup.Winnhadnocontroloversearchandrescue.
TheonlypersonactivelysearchingforCormacwasVance.
Iwouldn’tthwarthischancesbysharingasecret.IfhehadanyhopeoffindingCormac,Iwouldn’tputanobstacle—mysister-in-law—inhispath.
“Thanksfortellingme.”
“Ifsearchandrescuewasundermycontrol—”
“Iknow.”Igaveherasadsmile.Winnwouldn’thavestopped.Ofthat,Ihadnodoubt.
“GriffcalledmeasIwasdrivinghere.Hewasontheafternoonteamtogoouttoday.Hegotthenoticefromthesearchandrescueleadthattheycalledoffthemeeting.Tosaythathe’spissedisanunderstatement.Soisyourdad,KnoxandMateo.Apparently,KnoxsuggestedtheytellZalinskitofuckoffandjustsearchontheirown,but…”
ButitwouldonlycausetroubleforWinn.Assoonassomeonefromthesheriff’sdepartmentfoundout,she’dhaveamesstocleanup.
She’ddealtwithenoughmessesinthepasttwomonths.
“No.Theyshouldjustleaveitalone.”
Mydadandbrotherslovedme,ofthat,Ihadnodoubt.IfIaskedthemtospendeverydayscouringthosemountains,they’dsacrificetheirtimeanddojustthat.
Buttheyhadn’tfoundCormaceither.Theyweren’tprofessionals.
Vance?Maybehehadachance.
“I’msorry,”Winnsaidagain.
“It’snotyourfault.”
“IfeellikeI’vefailedyou.”Hervoicecracked.Shewassodeterminedtomakethisright,tobeourfamily’shero,whenshealreadywas.
Ipulledherintoahug.“Youdidn’tfailme.”
Herhandsmightbetied,butmineweren’t.
Shehuggedmeback,holdingtight,untilajingleinthebackgroundbrokeusapart.“I’dbetterletyougetbacktowork.”
Theownerofthejewelrystorewaswaitingatthecounterwhenweemergedfromthekitchen.WhileIwenttoworkonacinnamonsoylatte,Winnslippedoutoftheshop.
AfteraquicktexttomydadandbrotherstellingthemIknewaboutZalinski’sdecisionandnottomaketroubleforWinn,IwalkedtoVance’stable.
“Theycalledoffthesearch,”Isaid.
Hiseyesmetmineashereclinedinthatchair.Thewayhestaredwasrattling.Unnerving.Ifoughttheurgetolookaway.
Hestaredlikehecouldreadmythoughts.Noonehadeverlookedatmelikethatbefore.Heprobablymadeagreatcop.Ihadthesuddenurgetotellhimeverything.
HowIwassotiredandjustwantedtosleepwithoutanightmare.HowIwaveredbetweenangerandsadnesseachtimeIlookedinthemirror.Howmypulsespikedwheneverhewasaround.
Hadhereplayedthatmomentinthetruck?Wouldhehavekissedme?Mygazedroppedtohismouthandthosesoftlips.Whatwaswrongwithme?Whycouldn’tIstopthinkingaboutakiss?Wouldittakethepainaway?
Vance’stonguedartedout,justaquick,smalllickofhisbottomlip,anddesirecoiledinmybelly.
Itoremyeyesaway,droppingthemtohisemptyplate.He’ddevouredthesandwichandchocolatecroissantI’dbroughthimoverforlunch.Hiscoffeemugwasemptyandinneedofarefill.
“I’llgetyoumorecoffee.”
“Lyla.”Hestoppedmeandnoddedtotheseatoppositehis.“Sitdown.”
Isankintothechair.
“Areyouallright?”
“Idon’tknow,”Iconfessed.“I’mmad.”
Toeveryoneelseinmylife,I’dliethroughmyteeth,promisingIwasfine.Pretendingtobemyself.ItwaseasytogiveVancethetruth.
“Partofmewishestheyhadn’tgivenupsosoon.Theotherparthopesthismeansthey’reoutofyourway.”
Hisexpressionchanged.Helookedalmost…bewildered?
“What?”
“Nothing.”Hewaveditoff,thendroppedhisgazetothetable.
Beneathhisplatewasamapmarredwithredlinesandcircles.“What’sthis?”
Hesettheplateonthetablebesideours,shiftinghismugoutofthewaytoo.Thenhespunthemapmydirection,pointingtoaredXbesideacurvedblueline.Theriver.
Thepointofattack.
FromthatX,he’ddrawnwhatlookedlikeabikewheel,eachspokeconvergingatthecentralpoint.Twoofthesegmentshe’dshadedinwithmorered.
“I’veruledouttheseareas.Thisonewiththehighway.”Hepointedtoashadedsection.“AndthisonethatsurroundsQuincy.Cormacwouldn’tventurethatclosetoheavilypopulatedareasunlesshewasdesperate.”
“Whatmakesyouthinkhe’snotdesperate?”
“He’sgotfood.Water.Everythingheneedstosurviveinthewilderness.TheonlyreasonI’dexpecthimnearatownorpeoplewouldbeformedicalsupplies.Youdidn’tnoticehiminjured,didyou?”
“No.NotthatIcouldtell.”
“Myplanistostarthere.”Hepointedatthemapagain,thistimetotheareathatledstraightnorthfromthatredX.“It’stheroughestterrain.Ifhe’shidinghisscent,itwouldbeeasiestherewherethemountainsaredenseandsteep.”
“Sosectionbysection,you’llsearchforhim.”
Vancenodded.“Exactly.”
“Doyoureallythinkhe’soutthere?”
“Idon’tknow.Butifthere’sachanceheis,Iwon’tstoplooking.”
Notjustformysake.Buthis.“Whoishe?Whatdidhedo?”
Vanceturnedhisfacetowardthewindow,staringoutthroughtheglass.Foramoment,Ididn’tthinkhe’danswerme.“Hemurderedhiswife.Andhisdaughters.”
Igaspedsoloudlythatthecouplehavingcoffeethreetablesawayglancedourdirection.“OhmyGod.Why?”
“Idon’tknow,”Vancesaid,loweringhisvoice.“Noonedoes.”
WasthatwhyVancewashere?Wasthisaquesttogetanswers?
Hestiffened,thosebroadshoulderscurlinginwardasheleanedhiselbowsonthetable.Hisfocusstayedfirmlyonthemap,likehewasattemptingtoconjureCormacoutofthepaper.
“Fromtheoutside,theyweretheperfect,lovingfamily.Hewasamodelhusbandandfather.TookhiswifeoutonadateeveryWednesday.Coachedhisoldestdaughter’ssoftballteam.Whenitfirsthappened,therewerealotofpeoplewhorefusedtobelievehewasthekiller.”
“Iguessyouneverreallyknowwhathappensbehindcloseddoors.”
“No.Iguessnot,”hemurmured.
“How,um…howdidhekillthem?”DidIreallywanttoknow?
HisAdam’sapplebobbedasheswallowedhard.“Helivedonthelake.Hadadock.Boat.Hedrovehisthreedaughterstothemiddleofthelakeduringathunderstormandthrewtheminthewater.Theydrowned.”
Islappedahandovermymouthtocovermygaspthistime.Whatkindoffatherwoulddothat?Thosepoorgirls.“Andhiswife?”
Vancedroppedhisgazetomyneck.
Strangled.
He’dstrangledhiswife.
Myhanddriftedfrommymouthtotheclothcoveringmythroat.Itburned,notfromwhatCormachaddone,butthethreatoftears.
“Whydidheletmego?”I’daskedthatquestionsomanytimesitwasbeginningtocrawlbeneathmyskin.“Itmakesnosense.”
“Agreed,”Vancemuttered,rubbingathisjaw,likehisbeardwasnewandhewasstilltestingoutthefeelofitbeneathhispalm.
“It’sallblurry,”Isaid.“I’vethoughtaboutthatdaysomanytimesIfeellikeIcan’ttellwhatwasrealandwhatI’vemadeupinmyheadatthispoint.ButIfeelliketherewasthismomentwhenhelooked…scared?Sad?”
Vance’sgazeshiftedtothewindowagain,lettingitsinkin.“I’msorry,Lyla.”
Therewassomuchbehindthatapology.“It’snotyourfault.”
“Isn’tit?”
Thepaininhisvoice,theguilt,sentmedeeperintomyseat.Hereallyfeltresponsible,didn’the?ThatbecauseCormachadescapedyearsago,itwashisfaultthatI’dbeenattacked.
“Howdidhegetaway?”Iasked.
Vanceliftedashoulder.
Iwaited,hopinghe’dexplain,butthatshrugwasalltheanswerhe’dgive.SoIstoodandcollectedhisdishes.ButbeforeIlefthistable,Ipausedandtookinhisprofile.
Thatgranitejawwasclenched.Helookedlostinanangerfouryearsinthemakingashestaredthroughtheglass.
“Whatwillyoudowhenyoufindhim?”Notif,when.
“WhateverIneedtodo.”Themenace,thehatred,inhisvoicewasunsettling.
AchillspreadthroughmyveinsasIcarriedhisdishestothekitchen.
WhenIreturnedtothecounter,Vance’schairwasempty.CHAPTERSIXVANCE
MybootsplatteredapuddleasIsteppedoutofmytruck.Thewatersloshedontothealreadydrenchedhemofmyjeans.Thewetdenimhungheavyonmylegs,andmycoat,justassoggy,saggedonmyshoulders.I’dhavetowringoutmybeanieinthehotel’sbathroomsinkandhangittodry.
Thoughitwouldjustgetdampagaintomorrow.Butthiswasn’tthefirsttimeI’dspentmydaysgettingsoakedwhileIsloggedthroughmountains.Giventherainyforecastfortomorrow,itwouldn’tbethelast.
Isnaggedmypackfromthebackseat,thenslammedthetruck’sdoorclosed,shovingthekeysintomypocketasIwalkedtowardthehotel.
Mystomachgrowled.Lyla’scoffeeshopwaslikeagoldenbeaconglowingbrightonagloomy,grayday.Icouldpracticallysmellthesweet,richscents.Asandwich,acupofhotcoffee,afewofherpastrieswouldgoalongwaytowardimprovingmymood.
ButIkeptmovingforward,awayfromEdenCoffee,asIstrodeforthehotel.
IthadbeentwodayssinceI’dtoldLylaaboutCormac’smurders.WhatI’dsharedwasjustatipofthaticeberg,butevensharingpartofthestoryhadbeendifficult.EverytimeIspokeaboutCormac,aboutwhathe’ddone,itleftmefeelingshaken.Frayed.
Fouryearshadpassed,andIstillcouldn’twrapmyheadaroundit.Whathadhappenedthatnight?WhathadcausedCormactosnap?WastheresomethingIcouldhavedonetostophim?
IfLylaknewthewholestory,she’daskthesamequestions.
SoI’davoidedherandthatcharmingcoffeeshopentirely.Iwasafraidshe’dseethroughme.Iwasafraidshe’ddemandthedetailsI’domitted,andIwasn’tsureIhadthestrengthtotellherno.
Exceptifsheknewthetruth,itwouldshatterherillusion.Thatblindfaithshehadinmewouldfade.
Herconfidenceinmewasstartling.Addictive.
Noonebelievedinme,notlikethat.Notmycaptain.Nottheotherdeputiesinthedepartment.Notmyfamily.NotTiff.
Thesedays,peopleseemedtoexpectmyfailure.OrmaybeIwasjustusedtodisappointingmyself.
ButLyla…
ShelookedatmelikeIwashersalvation.
Therealitywas,I’dlikelydisappointhertoo.Andthatsatlikearockinmyemptygut.
I’dspenttwodayscombingthemountainsforanysignofCormac.EachdayIdrovebacktoQuincy,itwaswithemptyhands.
Still,Iwasn’tgoingtoquit.Daybyday,Iwaseliminatingpossibleplaceswherehecouldhavebuiltashelter.Anotherday,maybetwo,I’dhaveasectionofmymaptocrossout.
Myprocesswasn’tfoolproof,butitwashowI’dbeentaughttosearchforfugitives.Andthemanwho’dtaughtmewasthebest.
Hiseducationwaseithergoingtobitemeintheass,ormaybe,foronceinmydamnlife,I’dgetlucky.Thoughtherainwasn’thelping.Witheverydrop,Cormac’strailwasbeingwashedaway.
AsteadydrizzlehadgreetedmethismorningwhenI’dheadedintothemountains.Ithadfinallystoppedrainingaboutanhourago,justasthesunlighthadbeguntofade,asignalthatmydayofhikinghadcometoanend.
Nowitwastimetodryoutandpreparefortomorrow.
MybootssqueakedonthefloorasIwalkedinsideTheEloiseInn.Therewasacoupleatthedesk,checkingin.SuitcasescrowdedtheirfeetastheyspoketoasmilingEloiseVale.Sittingstoicallyathersidewasherhusband,Jasper.
Ihadn’tactuallybeenintroducedtoEloiseorJasper.AdifferentdeskclerkhadcheckedmeinwhenI’darrived.Andlastnight,whenI’dcomedowntoextendmyreservationbytwoweeks,there’dbeenyetadifferentpersonstationedatthereceptiondesk.
ButIknewJasperandEloisefromQuincy’slocalpaper.Fromthearticleabouttheshootingfromthissummer.
WasthatwhyEloiseandJasperwerealwaystogether?ThetimesI’dseenthem,theywereneverfarapart.MyguesswasthatJasperstuckclosetohiswife’sside—themanhadtakenabulletforher.
Irespectedthatdevotion.Inanotherlife,Iwouldhavemadeitapointtointroducemyself.Toshakehishand.
Instead,Iduckedmychinandwalkedwithmyheaddown,notwantingtodrawanyattentionasImademywaytothestairwellandclimbedtothefourthfloor.Evenafteradayspenthiking,pushingmybody,Iwasn’treadytoletupyet.Thephysicaloutletwasmyonlyrelease.MaybeifIexhaustedmyself,I’dgetsomedamnsleep.
Sleepwasnevereasy,evenathomeinmyownbed.Sixhoursanightwashuge.SinceI’dcometoQuincy,ithadbeenevenmoresporadic.ThreeorfourhourswasallI’dmanaged.Ijustcouldn’tshutdownmybrain.
Withnothingtodobutdwellonmymistakes,ontheclusterfuckthatwasmylife,I’dclimboutofbedandspendhourschartingmyhikes.I’dporeoverthemapsinmypack,memorizingeveryinch.Andwhenthatwasdone,I’dspendhoursreadingnewsaboutQuincy.
Forasmalltown,thiscommunityhadsufferedmorethanitsfairshareoftrouble.
Aboutthreeyearsago,there’dbeenamurder,ayoungwomaninthemountains.IndigoRidgewasmorethantwentymilesfromwhereIwascurrentlysearchingforCormac.ButhadthenewspaperarchivesnotdetailedthecrimeandhowWinslowEdenhadapprehendedthepersonresponsible,Iwouldhavewonderedifhe’dbeenresponsible.
Afterthatmurder,there’dbeenanincidentatalocaldaycareandanAMBERalert.Possiblyanattemptedkidnapping.Sinceithadinvolvedaminor,thedetailshadn’tbeenreleasedtothepress.However,I’dcomeacrossafewsocialmediapoststhatspeculatedthechildinvolvedwasnoneotherthanKnoxEden’sson.
ThehardshipsforLyla’sfamilyhadn’tstoppedthere.
ThemostrecentnewsarticlesallcenteredaroundEloiseandtheshooting.Lyla’ssisterhadbeenworkinginthelobbywhenakid,aformerhotelemployee,hadcomeinarmedwithapistol.He’dgottenoffafewshots,oneofwhichJasperhadtakenforEloise.ThenWinslow,who’dbeeninthebuilding,hadtakenthekiddown.
FromeverythingI’dread,Winnwasadamngoodcop.Maybeitwasstupidofmenottotrusther.ButI’dalreadymadethedecisiontoflyundertheradar.ThatmeantavoidinganyonewiththelastnameEden.
ExceptLyla.
ButIguess…Iwasavoidinghertoo.
BecauseIfearedshe’daskaboutCormac.And,ifIwasbeinghonestwithmyself,becauseofhowthatwomanstirredmyblood.
Ididn’tjustwakeupatnightrestless.Iwokeuphardandachingforrelease,Lyla’sstrikingeyeshauntingmydreams.
Justthethoughtofherbeautifulfacesentbloodrushingtomydick.
Ofallthewomen,whydidithavetobeLylatocapturemyinterest?Shitwascomplicatedenoughwithoutaddingthisattractionintothemix.
Ijoggedupthelastflightofstairstothefourthfloor,takingthemtwoatatime,needingtheburninmythighstoshovetheimageofherprettymouthwrappedaroundmycockoutofmymind.WhenIreachedmyroom,Isetmypackonthetableandbreathedinthecleanscentoffreshlaundryandcitrus.
ThiswasthenicesthotelI’deverstayedin.Itwasairyandspacious,yetithadacomfortable,homeyfeel.Theking-sizedbedwascomfortableanditswhitecomforterplush.Housekeepinghadlinedthepillowsagainsttheheadboard.TheheavycurtainsI’dleftdrawnthismorningwerenowpulledawayfromthewindow.Ihadaperfect,unobstructedviewofthefogandmistthatcloakedQuincy.
Icrossedtheroomandtuggedthecurtainsclosed.Along,hotshowerwascallingmyname,soIstripped,lettingmywetclothesploponthefloor.Myjeanssmelledlikerainandmud.Tomorrownight,I’dhavetofindaplacetowashaloadoflaundry.Mysuitcaseinthecornerwaspiledhighwithdirtyclothes—today’sweretossedintotheheap.
Ihadonepairofclean,dryjeansleftinthedresserdrawer.
Wearingonlyapairofblackboxerbriefs,Iroundedthebedforthenightstand,snaggingthetwochocolatemintsthatthehousekeeperleftformeeachday.Iatethembothwithouthesitation.Maybethey’dtidemeoveruntildinner.
MaybeI’dorderroomservicefromKnucklesagainaftermyshower.Theburgersweregreat.ThoughwhatIreallywantedwasoneofLyla’schocolatecroissants.Everythingthatwomanmadewastoptier,butdamnthosecroissants.
Mystomachgrowled,thepangssharpeningtorazorblades.ButbeforeIcoulddisappearintothebathroomandgetgoingonmyshower,myphonerang.Iwalkedtomypack,diggingitoutofthefrontpocket.
Alec.
HeandIweren’texactlyfriends.Wewerecoworkersinthesamedepartment.Friendly,butnotfriends.Ididn’thavealotoffriendsinthedepartmentthesedays—I’dlearneditwasbesttodrawthatline.
“Fuck.”Ifhewascalling,itwasn’ttochat.Maybehe’dheardsomethingabouttheshooting.Maybethecaptainhadsaidsomethingintheirweeklymeeting.Whateverthepoint,IbracedasIacceptedthecall.“Hey.”
“Hi,Vance.How’sitgoing?”
“Notbad,Alec.You?”
“Can’tcomplain.”
Iwaited,grittingmyteeth.
“IranintoTiffatthestoreearlier.”
TiffandAlechadmetatafewofthedepartment’smandatorygatheringsovertheyears.Thesummerbarbeques.Theholidayparties.They’dbondedovertheirmutualloveofkaraoke.
Ibetshe’dtoldhimwhereIwasandwhatIwasdoing.Shit
“Okay,”Idrawled.
“Shesaidyoutwobrokeitoff.”
“Wedid.”
Alechummed,thedisapprovalinhistoneasthickastheblanketofcloudsoutside.
Ididn’tneedthisbullshit.“Listen,I’mjustabouttoheadtodinnerand—”
“Whatareyoudoing,Sutter?Areyoutryingtogetyourassfired?”
Isighed,takingaseatontheedgeofthebed.“I’monvacation.”
“Right.”Alecscoffed.“Tifftoldmewhatyou’redoing.You’regoingafterGallagher.Again?”
“It’snotlikeI’mswampedwithwork.”
IftherewaseveratimeinthepastfouryearstosearchforCormac,itwasnow,whenthecaptainhadtoldmetotakeabreak.Untilthemediaattentiondieddown.Untiltheinvestigationwasover.
Iwasn’ttechnicallyonadministrativeleave.Yet.
“Thecaptain’sgoingtofliphisshitwhenhehearsaboutthis.”
“Thecaptainwantsmegone.He’salreadyshovingmetowardthedoor.”
“Sowhat?You’requitting?”
“No.”Mycaptainwasaragingprick.Irefusedtogivehimthesatisfactionofmequitting.Ifhewantedmeofftheforce,he’dhavetofireme.“ButthisseemedlikeagoodtimetogetawayfromCoeurd’Alene.”
“Youdidn’tdoanythingwrong.Youshouldn’thavetoleavetown.”
“Agreed,”Imuttered.
Buteveryonewaspointingfingersatthemoment.Everyonewassearchingforapersontoblame.Ifthecaptainneededafallguy,thatfallguywouldbeme.
“Look,I,uh…”Alecsighed.“Idon’tknowwhattosay.”
“Nothingtosay.”
“I’msorryaboutTiff.”
MaybeIshouldhavebeensorrytoo,butthiswasbestforher.Forbothofus.“Itwastime.”
“Funny.That’sexactlywhatshesaid.”
Good.Iwantedhertomoveon.Toforgetaboutmeandfindsomeonewhomadeherpulserace.
“HaveyoufoundanythingonGallagher?”Alecasked.
“Notyet.”Inthepastweek,CormaccouldhavemadehiswaytoCanadaforallIknew.Orhemighthavegonesouthforthewinterlikeabird.
“Thinkyou’llfindhim?”
Iftherewaseverachance,itwashereinQuincy.ButIwasn’tgoingtovoicethosehopes.NottoAlec.Thatwouldmakethemtooreal.“What’sgoingonwithyou?”
“We’rebusy.”Alechadknownmelongenoughtogoalongwiththechangeinsubject.“We’reamandown.”
Me.Iwasthatman.
AlecandIworkedforthesamebackcountryunitinIdaho.Ididn’tconsiderhimmypartner.Ididn’thaveapartnerthesedays.Butwewerecoworkers.
Ourswasasmallteamwithonesergeantandtwodeputies.WerespondedtocallsandpatrolledthebackcountryareasacrosshundredsofthousandsofacresinthenationalforestlandsurroundingCoeurd’Alene.Wespentalotoftimeinremote,forestedareasthatwereonlyaccessiblebyoff-roadvehiclesoronfoot.
Giventhenatureofourjob,thediverseterrainsandlandscapes,wealsospenttimeworkingwithvolunteersearchandrescueteams.Thesamewastruewithmarinepatrolanddiverescue.
Iwasacopwhogottospendhisdaysoutside,nottrappedinacruiserorassignedadesk.
Itwasmydreamjob.
MaybeanothermanwithmyskillsetwouldhaveaspiredtojointheU.S.Marshals.Leadfederalmanhuntsorsolvehigh-profilecases.ButI’dalwaysbeencontentasadeputy.Ididn’tneedflashycasesorshinyaccolades.
WhenIreturnedhome,wouldtherebeajobwaiting?MaybeifI’dplayedthegame,ifI’dspentmoretimeintheprecinctmakingfriendsandpracticingpolitics,I’dhavemoreconfidenceinmyfuture.I’dhaveabetterrelationshipwiththecaptain.
“Don’tworktoohard,”ItoldAlec.
“Becareful.”AlecknewenoughaboutCormactoknowwhatIwasupagainst.
“Bye.”Iendedthecallandtossedmyphoneaside.
IappreciatedAleccheckinginonme.Myfamilycertainlyhadn’t.
ButAlecwouldn’tsayanything,wouldhe?
No.He’dkeepitquiet.ButwhataboutTiff?Hopefullyshewouldn’tbumpintoanyoneelsewhileIwasgoneandstartblabbing.Hopefullyshewouldn’tdecidetopunishmebymakingaquickcalltothecaptain.
ThelastthingIneededwashimgettingwindofwhyIwasinMontana.ThatassholewouldcallWinslowEdenfasterthanIcouldblink,justforthesatisfactionoffuckingmyplans.Thenhe’dtalktotheFBI.
Theyhadn’tconnectedtheQuincyAPBtoCormac…yet.
Howlongwoulditbeuntilmysecretscaughtuptome?HowlonguntilthetruthIwastryingtokeepoutofQuincymadeitsappearance?
AllitwouldtakewasaquickGooglesearchandeveryonewouldknowmystory.LylahadbeenmorewillingthanI’deverhopedtokeepmyidentitytoherself.Howlonguntilhercuriositygotthebetterofher?Howlonguntilmyvagueanswerstoherspecificquestionsbegantofester?
Itwasonlyamatteroftimebeforeeverythingcollapsed.
“Fuck.”Irakedahandthroughmyhair.
WhatwasIdoing?Ishouldbeathome.Ishouldbedoingeverythinginmypowertoclearmyname.ToprovetotheworldIwasagoodcop.TiffhadtoldmeoncethatthisobsessionwithCormacwouldruinmylife.
Maybeshewasright.
Buttheideaofleaving,ofwalkingawaywhenI’dneverbeensoclose,wasunthinkable.
Ijusthadtopushthrough.Keepgoinguntilsomeonemademestop.Cormachadtopayforwhathe’ddone.
Thesimmeringrage,asfamiliarasmyownskin,sweptthroughmyveins,chasingawayanydoubt.Iwalkedintothebathroomandturnedontheshower,lingeringunderthehotwateruntilIwasclean.ThenItoweledoff,combingmyhairwithmyhands.
SteambillowedfromthebathroomasIwalkedout,atowelwrappedaroundmywaist,abouttocalldownforroomservice.ButbeforeIcouldliftthephonefromitscradle,aknockcameatthedoor.
Ifroze.
Therewasnoreasonforanyoneinthistowntovisitmyroom.Itwasprobablyhousekeeping.Maybeanotherguesthadthewrongroom.OrmaybeitwasWinslowEden,andIwasfucked.
MyheartclimbedintomythroatasIcrossedtheroomandcheckedthepeephole.
ThebreathI’dbeenholdingrushedoutofmylungs.Christ.Myparanoiawasgettingthebetterofme.Itwistedtheknobandopenedthedoor.“Lyla.”
“H-hi.”Thoseblueeyeswidenedastheydroppedfrommyfacetomybarechest.Inchbyinch,theytraveledlower,hercheeksflushing.Whenhergazereachedthehemofmytowel,itdroppedlikearocktomybarefeet.“Sorry.I,um…sorry.Ishouldhavecalledfirst.”
Iglancedpasther,checkingthehallway,butshewasalone.“Everythingokay?”
“Youhaven’tbeentothecoffeeshop.”
No.I’dbeenavoidingherspectacularly.
Whywasthatagain?
Damn,shewasbeautiful.Ikeptmyarmspinnedtomysidestokeepfromreachingforher.Myheartthumpedhardagainstmysternum,likeahammerpoundingatanail.
Shewaswearinganolivecoatthathitmidthighonherblackrippedjeans.Herscarfwasthesameshadeasherjacket.Lyla’shairwasup,thedarkstrandspiledontopofherheadinamessyknot.Someofthemweredampfromtherain,curlingathertemples.Shemusthavewalkedoverfromthecoffeeshop.
Wait.How’dsheknownthiswasmyroom?HadsheaskedEloiseorJasper?
Likeshecouldreadmymind,Lylaglanceddownthehallway,theninchedcloser.“NooneknowsI’muphere.”
“Howdidyouknowthiswasmyroom?”
“I,um…IwaiteduntilEloiseandJasperleft,thenIaskedthenightclerk.Itoldheryouforgotyourwalletatthecoffeeshop,andI’drunituptoyou.”
“Ah.”Thehotelclerkshouldhavecalledupfirst,butLyla’slastnameprobablywentalongwayinthisbuilding.That,andshewastrustworthy.Idoubtedanyonewholookedatherprettyfaceexpectedablatantlie.
Alittlerebellion.God,itwassexy.
Myentirelife,I’ddonetherightthing.Wherehadthatgottenme?Alone,inMontana,withmycareerinshambles.
Evenaftertheinvestigationwascomplete,Ihadnodelusionsaboutkeepingmyjob.Thecaptainwouldfindawaytotakemybadge,eitherbyfiringmeorsittingmeatadesk,knowingI’deventuallygetfedupandquit.
AllbecauseI’ddonetherightthing.
DidIregretpullingthetrigger?Everyfuckingday.ButwasIguilty?No.
TheonlythinggoinginmyfavorwasthischanceatfindingCormac.Sofucktherules.Atthispoint,Iwasaskingforforgiveness,notpermission.
“Everythingokay?”IaskedLyla.
“Yeah,Ijust…I’msorry.I’minterruptingyournight.I’llleave.”Shetwisted,abouttotakeastep,thenstoppedandturnedback.“Ijustwantedtoknowifyou’dfoundanything.”
“Notyet.”Wasitfoolishgivingherhope?Wasitfoolishkeepingsomeformyself?
“Okay.”Shegavemeasmallsmilebeforehergazetraveleddownmychestagain,lingeringonmyabs.Hertonguedartedouttolickherlowerlip,andfuckme,mycocktwitched.
Isankmyheelsdeeperintothefloor,everymuscleinmybodylockingsoIwouldn’tdragheracrossthethreshold.
“Youalmostkissedme.Inthetruck.Thedaywewenttotheriver.”Hervoicewassoft,barelyawhisper.Thoseblueeyesliftedtomine,andthegriponmycontrolbegantofalter.“Youalmostkissedme,didn’tyou?”
Yes.Whywassheaskingwhenwebothknewtheanswer?
“Youshouldhavekissedme.”
Fuck.Me.
“Lyla,”Iwarned,forcingmyselftotakeastepback.“Youshouldgo.”BeforeIburiedmyfaceinthatlong,silkyhairandbreathedinhersweet,vanillascent.BeforeIcavedandshedidsomethingshe’dregretinthemorning.
“Iseehisface.Atnight.”ShestoppedmebeforeIcouldclosethedoor.“JustbeforeIfallasleep,Iseehiseyes.Thatscar.Ifeelhishandsonmythroat.”
Sheliftedherfingers,touchingthescarfaroundherneck.“OnceIseehim,Ican’tshutitoff.EveryonekeepstellingmewhatIneed.Myparents.Mysisters.Mybrothers.Ineedtorest.Ineedtostayhome.Ineedtostopworkingsohard.Ineedtoheal.I’msotiredofeveryonetellingmewhatIneed.AllIwantistoforget.Forjustonenight,Ineedtoforget.”
Whatwoulditbeliketoforget?Itsoundedlikeheaven.
Lylawasn’ttheonlypersonwithnightmares.
Ishouldhaveclosedthedoor.Ishouldhavesentheronherway.
Instead,Itookastepforward.
Andsealedmymouthoverhers.CHAPTERSEVENLYLA
GoodGod,thismancouldkiss.
MyentirebodywentupinflamesasVance’stongueslidagainstmine.Sparkscascadedacrossmyskinandfirelickedmyveins.
Everythingoutsidethisroomfadedaway.ThethoughtsIhadn’tbeenabletoshutoff,theworries,thefears—vanished.Poof.Gone.AllthatexistedwasVanceandthiskiss.
Thiserotic,consumingkiss.
WhenIwasfifteen,I’dkissedJasonPalmer.He’dbeenmyfirst.Ithadbeenawkwardandexciting.Fumbledandquick.ButwhenI’dsharedthedetailswithTalia,I’dtoldherthatwhenJasonkissedme,itwaslikebeingwrappedinarainbow.Atfifteen,I’dlovedrainbows.
Inalltheyearssince,findingamanwho’dgivemethoserainbowshadbeenimpossible,nomatterhowmuchIlikedaguy.
Butregardless,I’dkeptchasingrainbows.
Yearsutterlywasted.ThiswaswhatIshouldhavebeenchasing.Sparks.Heat.Sinandsex.Itwasathousandtimesbetterthananyrainbow.
Vancewrappedhisarmsaroundme,haulingmeintohisroom,thedoorclickingshutbehindme.Histonguetangledwithmine,hismouthslantingtogetadeepertaste.
Imeltedagainsthim,myhandsslidingupthatstrongchest.Thedustingofhairoverhisheartwascoarseagainstmypalms.Hewassosolid.Hard.Male.Anddamn,butIlovedthathewassotall.
EvenstandingonthetipsofmytoesIwasn’ttallenoughtoreachhismouth.Itforcedhimtobend,thattoweringframefoldingoverandaroundme.
Vance’sbeardscrapedagainstthesmoothskinaroundmymouth.Thesmellofhisskin,spicyandcleanfromhissoap,filledmynose.Hewashead-to-toeruggedstrengthandhonedmuscle.Thearmsbandedaroundmybackwerelikechains,lockingmeinplace.
AmewlcamefrommythroatasVancedevouredmewhole,exploringeverycornerofmymouth.Alowgroanrumbleddeepinhischest,thesoundofuttersatisfaction.Ofinsatiableneed.
Betweenus,hisarousalpressedagainstmyhip,hardandlong.
Desirepooledinmycenter,mycoreclenching.
Hetorehismouthaway,dragginghiswetlipsacrossthelineofmyjawtomyear.“Fuck,Lyla.”
“Yes,”Iwhispered.Please
Myhandsdoveintohishair,grippingthedampstrands.TheywereasthickandsoftasI’dimagined.Thelengthmadeitpossibleformetoholdhimtome,toclutchhimcloseashenippedatmyearlobe.
Irolledmyhips,rockingagainsthiserection.
Vancehissedandletmego,hisarmsfallingtohissides.Withahardswallow,hetookastepaway.Thenanother.Hishandsfisted,likehewasholdinghimselfback.
Thespacebetweenuswaslikeanopenwindow.Coldairrushedin,takingwithitthesparks.Andlikeaflood,everyworry,everyfear,camesurgingback.
Iwassotiredofmyowndamnthoughts.Iwantedthesparksback.Iwantedtojustfeel.
ForthefirsttimesinceCormac,Icravedanotherperson’stouch.Vance’stouch.Thatseemedlikeamiracle.SoIreachedforthescarfaroundmyneckandtuggeditfree,lettingitfalltothefloor.
Vance’seyesstayedlockedonmine.Thetorment,therestraint,burnedinthoselightirises.
Fuckingrestraint.
Irippedoffmyjacket,themoveviolent,andthrewitonthefloor.ThenIreachedforthehemofmytee,whippingitovermyhead.Nextcamemyivorylacebra.Itjoinedtheotheritemsonthefloor.
Vancewantedme.Thebulgetentinghistowelwasevidenceenough.Buthestoodstatuestill,refusingtocrosstheinvisiblelinebetweenus.
NeverinmylifehadIbeenthisbrazenorbold.Doubtcreptitswaybeneathmyskin,myconfidencewitheringwitheverysecondthathestilldidn’tmove.Washeevenbreathing?
Myheartpoundedaswestaredateachother.HisAdam’sapplebobbed,butotherwise,hemightaswellhavebeenagranitestatue.
AllwhileIstoodhalfnaked,exposed,bruisedanddesperate.
Whatthehellwaswrongwithme?
IwasjustabouttoswipemyclothingfromthefloorandscurryoutofthisroomwhenVancemoved.
Withaflickofhiswrist,histowelwasgone,pooledathisbarefeet.Hiscock,hardandthick,sprangfree,juttingbetweenus.
Igulped.Ohsweetlord.Everypartofthismanwasmassive.
Withasinglestep,hecrossedthespacebetweenus,hismouthclaimingmineoncemore.
Ifthefirstkisshadbeensparksandfire,thiswasaninfernoofblueflame.Mypulseboomedinmyearsashistonguetwistedwithmine.Therewasnothinggentleaboutthiskiss.Nothingslow.Itwasakissthatechoedwithasingleword.
Fuck.
Weweregoingtofuck.
Justlikebefore,hewipedmymindclean.
Vancereachedbetweenus,flickingopenthebuttononmyjeansandrippingdownthezipper.HeshovedthemoffmyhipssofastthatIstumbled.ButbeforeIcouldfall,hecaughtmeattheribs,hoistingmeintotheair.Thenhethrewme
IyelpedasIlandedonthemattresswithabounce.
Nomanhadevercravedmesodesperatelyhe’dtossedmearoundabedroom.
Mylaughwaswild,thesoundashystericalasmymovementsasIkickedmyshoestothefloor.
Vancemovedjustasfrantically,tearingawaymyjeans.Thenwithafisthegrippedmylacepantiesandshreddedthemfrommybody.Thetornfabricwentsailingoverhisshoulderashesankintothecradleofmyhips.
Hismouthcrashedontomine.Histongueplunderedandstrokedashelinedupatmyentrance.Wedidn’twastetimewithforeplay.Neitherofusneededit.Iwasdrenchedfromthekissalone.
Withonethrust,hedroveintothehilt.
Igaspeddownhisthroat,myeyessqueezingclosedasIadjustedtohissize.Tothedeliciousstretchofmybodyaroundhis.
Vancestilled,tearinghismouthaway.“Sofuckingtight,”hegrittedout.
Mybreathcameinlaboredpants.“Move.”
Hethrustforward,makingmybackarchoffthemattress.
“Vance,”Icried.Nomanhadevergonesodeep.
“Takeit,Lyla.Takethewholefuckingthing.”
Iwhimperedathisdirtymouth.Yes.Myfingertipsdugintohisskin,clutchinghisshouldersasheeasedout.
Heslammedinsideagain,hardenoughtoshakethebedandearnanothercry.“Youfeel…”
“Sogood,”Ipanted.
Asherockedintome,Iwrappedmylegsaroundhisbulkythighs,matchinghisrhythm.ThenIliftedmyheadfromthepillow,puttingmymouthathisear.“Fuckme,Vance.”
Hegroaned,easingouttoslaminsideagain.Hesetafast,hardpaceasourbodiesslappedtogether.
Itwasn’tgraceful.Itwasn’tsweetorgentle.ButGod,itwasgood.So,sogood.
Thehaironhischestbrushedagainstmypebblednipples,turningthemtostone.Thefeelofhimwaslikenoother,andmyinsidesturnedtoliquidasIheldonfortheride.
Vancedippedhislips,trailingthemalongmythroat.Hekissedeverymark,everybruise,allwhilehishipspistoned,hiscocksinkinginsidemybody.Hekeptmepinnedtothebed,dwarfedbyhislargeframe.
NeverinmylifehadIfeltsocraved.Worshiped.Protected.
Myorgasmbuiltwithafiercepower,myinnerwallsfluttering.
Vancedrovemetotheedge,strokeafterstroke,untilmylegsbegantotremble.Untilmytoescurledanditwasimpossibletofillmylungs.Heatbloomedacrossmyskin,mybreathcaughtinmythroat.
“Letgo,”hecommanded.“Comeforme.”
Ishattered.EverymuscleinmybodypulsedasIcameonacry.Mylimbsshook.Starsbrokeacrossmyvision,mymindblissfullyblank.
Vancedidn’tstop.Hefuckedme,harder.Faster.Chasinghisownrelease.“Fuckinghell.”Heletoutaroarbeforepouringinsideofme.
Iclungtohim,holdingtightuntiltheaftershocksbegantofadeandIfloatedbacktoreality.Ourbodieswereslickwithsweatandmyhairwaseverywhere,theknotinithavingworkedloose.MyheartracedlikeI’djustruntenmiles
Vancecollapsedontopofme,hisweightcrushingforasplitsecondashewrappedmetight.Thenherolledoff,hischestheavinglikemyownasheworkedtoregainhisbreath.“Fuck.”
Ihummed.“Yes,wedid.”
Thecornerofhismouthturnedup.
Agiggleescaped,andIfoughttheurgetopinchmyself.I’dcometohisroomforanswers,notsex.TwodayswithoutawordfromVanceandmyfearshadgottenthebestofme.Somehow,injustdays,havinghiminmycoffeeshophadbecomeananchor.Myhopewastieddirectlytohispresence.
Thenhe’ddisappeared.
Onthewalkovertothehotel,I’dconvincedmyselfthathewasgone.Thathe’dalreadycheckedoutandthere’dbenochanceoffindingCormacGallagher.ButI’dhadtoknow.
SoI’dliedtothedeskclerkaboutVanceleavinghiswalletattheshop.
Iwasn’tagoodliar.Butapparentlythathadchangedinthepastweekbecauseshehadn’tevenblinkedtwicebeforelookinguphisroomnumber.
Myabilitytotellafibwasn’ttheonlychange.Twoyearsago,I’dforbiddenmyselfone-nightstands.Bad,drunksexwithastrangerI’dmetatabarhadbeenthecatalyst.Hookupsalwaysleftmefeelingcheapandempty.
YethereIwas,nakedinVance’sbedwithnodelusionsthatthiswasanythingmorethanonenight.
OhmyGod,we’dhadsex.Crazed,recklesssex.Theevidencewasdrippingdownmyslit.
“Wedidn’tuseacondom,”Iwhispered,moretomyselfthanVance.“I’monbirthcontrol.”
Heliftedahand,draggingitoverhisbeard.“Sorry.Gotcaughtup.”
“Metoo.”Isighed.“Ihaven’tbeenwithanyoneinawhile.”
“Ijustgotoutofarelationship.Wewereexclusiveforthreeyears.”
Iwasareboundthen.
Ayear,amonth,aweekago,thatwouldhavesentmeintoatailspin.Iwasawomanwholovedrelationshipsandcommitment.Afterwitnessingmyparentslivetheirlivesmadlyinlove,theyhadbecomethegoldstandard.
Maybe,forme,thatstandardwasjusttoohigh.
Atthemoment,Ifelttoofragiletoenforcemyownrules.ToinsistanymanItaketobedbehusbandmaterial.
SoIletitgo.Allofit.
VancewasavisitorinQuincy,likemostguestsinthishotel.He’dbegonesoonerratherthanlater.Ifallhehadtogivemewasanorgasm,thenI’dbetherebound.I’dbethehookup.
I’dbetheeasyone-nightstand.
Shiftingtositup,Ithrewmylegsovertheedgeofthebed,abouttogetupanddress.Butbeforemyfeetcouldtouchthefloor,Vance’shandwrappedaroundmyelbow.
“Wait.”Heletmego,climbedoutofbedandwalkedtowardmypileofclothes,bendingtosnagmytornpantiesontheway.
Hisbodywastrulyaworkofart.Perfect,sculptedmuscle.Malepowerandvirility.Theglobesofhisassweremouthwatering,roundandhard.Ifthisweremorethanonenight,I’dspendhourslickingalonghisnarrowwaistandtracingthedimplesatthebaseofhisspine.
Vance’sshoulderswerecoveredwithtinycrescentmoons.Mynails.HadIevermarkedamanbefore?No.ButIlikedit.Asmiletuggedatthecornerofmymouth.
Definitelynotmyselflately.
Hecollectedmyclothesandbroughtthemover.ButasIreachedforthem,hepulledthemback,hisgazerakingdownmynakedbody.Amuscleinhisjawfeathered.Thesameconflictedexpressionhe’dhadearliermarredhishandsomeface.
Iheldoutahandformybra.
Vanceshookhishead.Thenmyballofclotheswentflyingacrosstheroom,crashingintothedresserbeneaththeTV.
“What—”
Hebentandcrushedhismouthtomine,silencinganyprotest.Hishandsdrifteddownmyribs,trailingovermyhips.Withaquicklift,hehauledmetomyfeetandsweptmeoffmytoesbeforecarryingmetotheshower.
ThenVanceshowedmejusthowgoodonenightcouldbe.
***
MybreathbillowedinawhitecloudasIhurriedalongthesidewalktowardthecoffeeshop.
AfoghadsettledoverQuincylastnightwhileI’dbeenasleepinVance’sbed.Thestreetlampscasthalosintothethickmist.
IglancedovermyshoulderatTheEloise.
Thesameclerkfromlastnightwasstillstationedatthefrontdesk.I’dsnuckoutthebackalleydoorthismorning,wantingtoavoidbeingseen.Itwasdawn,longbeforeEloiseandJasperwouldarriveforwork,butIdidn’twanttoriskquestions.
Abovethelobbyandfirstfloor,theonlylightvisiblewasoneintheuppercorneronthefourthfloor.Vancestoodinthewindowofhisroom,hishandsbracedonitstopsillashewatchedmewalkpastthecoffeeshop,headingforthealleywheremycarhadbeenparkedsinceyesterday.
Thewindshieldwascoveredinfrost,soIunlockedthedoors,settledintothecoldseatandstartedtheengine,lettingthedefrostblastwhileIreplayedlastnight.
Mybodyached.Mymuscleshadn’tworkedthathardinyears.Mynipplesweresensitiveagainstmybraandthefleshbetweenmylegswastender.Iflippeddownthevisor,inspectingmyswollenlipsinthemirror.
VanceandIhadgoneatithardlastnight.EverytimeI’dthoughthewasspent,he’dreachedforme.We’dalternatedsexandsleep.Ishouldhavebeenexhausted,butIhadmoreenergynowthanI’dhadindays.
Damn,whatanight.
Ayear,amonth,aweekago,itwouldhavebotheredmeknowingIwasjustafling.Atryst.Adistraction.
Vancehadsecrets.He’ddodgedtoomanyofmyquestionsduringourconversationsatthecoffeeshop.
Maybehe’dconfideinme,givemethewholestory.Maybenot.
Atthispoint,Ididn’tcare.LastnightwasthefirsttimesincetheriverthatI’dbeenabletoshutmymindoff.I’dbeenabletosleepwithoutCormac’sfaceinvadingmydreams.
Ayear,amonth,aweekago,IwouldhavewantedmorefromVance.Iwouldhavewantedarelationship.Aboyfriend.
Andhelikelywouldhavebecomemynextex-boyfriend.Thenextmantobreakmyheart.
Now…hewasameanstoanend.Hewasmychanceatjustice.Andhewasleaving.
Vancewouldn’tbeherelongenoughtohurtme.
SoIputmycarinreverseandbackedawayfromthecoffeeshop.
AndwhenIpassedbyTheEloiseonmywayhome,Ididn’tletmyselflookupatthefourth-floorwindowtoseeifVancewasstilltherewatching.CHAPTEREIGHTVANCE
ArushofnerveshitasIopenedthecoffeeshop’sdoor.
Fuck,butIhopedlastnightwithLylahadn’tbeenamistake.
Thedoor’sbelljingled.Thewarmthoftheroomseepedthroughmydampcoat.Thecomforting,sweetscentsfilledmynoseandmademystomachgrowl.ThegranolabarI’dscarfedonthedrivetotownhadn’tbeenenoughtosatisfymyhunger.
Behindthecounter,Lyla’sgazeflickedmydirection.Sheworeasmile.Itdidn’tdropwhenshesawme.Itdidn’twideneither.Itwasjust…herprettysmile.Akindsmileforacustomerorafriend.Itwasthesamesmileshe’dgivenmebeforelastnight.
Sexwasalwaysmorecomplicatedthancasual,atleastinmyexperience.Nomatterhowmanytimesawomansaidshedidn’tneedacommitment—hell,evenifImadeacommitment—sheusuallyendeduphurt.
Forhersake,IhopedLylawouldprovetobetheexception.Thesexhadbeen.Handsdown,lastnighthadbeenthebesttimeI’deverhadwithawoman.Maybewe’dbeabletokeephavingagoodtimewhileIwashere.Thatsmileofhersgavemehope.
Thebreathlodgedinmythroatloosened,workingfreeasIcrossedtheroom.
Shepickedupawhiteceramicmug,fillingitwithblackcoffee.“Youlooklikeyoucouldusethis.”
“Yeah.”Inodded,takingthemugasshehandeditoverandlettingmyhandssoakinitsheat.
I’dhadanotherlongdayinthemountainsgettingrainedon.Thechillthathadsettleddeepinmyboneswouldonlygoawayafterahotshower.Thoughthesteamingcoffeewouldhelp.Itookasip,lettingitwarmmyinsides.
“Thanks,Blue.”
Lyla’sheadcockedtotheside.“Blue?”
Iwinked.
“Oh.”Hercheeksflushed.Andthosestrikingblueeyes—eyesworthyofanickname—sparkled.“Hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Whatwouldyoulike?”
Itookanothersipofcoffee.“Surpriseme.”
“Allright.”Shesmiled,widerthistime.
Ifoughttheurgetoreachforher,tokissherlikeI’ddonebeforeshe’dslippedoutofmyhotelroomthismorning.
IthadtakenanefforttofocuswhileI’dbeenouthikingtoday.ToooftenI’dletmyselfpictureherface,imaginethoseeyesdarkeningwhileImovedinsideher.Atonepoint,I’dtrippedonastickbecauseI’dbeentoobusypicturingherdrippingwetinmyshower.
Thiswomanwasenchanting,thechemistrybetweenuspalpable.Neverinmylifehadawoman’sbodycomealiveundermytouchlikeLyla’s.She’dpulsedandclenchedaroundmycocklikeafuckingvise,andI’dpracticallyblackedoutfromthepleasure.
Mypulsequickened,mydickstirringbehindmyzipper.
Lylapulledherbottomlipbetweenherteeth,hergazedroppinglikeshe’dbeenthinkingaboutlastnighttoo.Afteraquick,sexyclearofherthroat,shewenttoworkonmysurprise,spinningawaytograbaplateandopenthedisplaycase.
Iretreatedtomyregulartablebesidethewindow,gladtoseeitempty,andsetmybackpackonthefloor.Withmycoathangingonthebackofasparechair,ItookmyseatandsippedmycoffeeuntilLylaappearedwithaplateinonehandandacoffeepotintheother.
Todayshe’dbroughtmeagrilledchickensandwichwithsomesortofpesto.Besideitwasabrowniewithfudgefrosting.
Mymouthwatered.Forthefood.Forthewoman.
Shetoppedoffmymug.“Anythingelse?”
“No,thisisgreat.Thanks.”
“Sure.”Sheglancedoverhershoulder,checkingtomakesurenoonewaspayingusanyattention.“Youwereouttoday.”
“Iwas.”
“Anything?”
Ishookmyhead,hatingtheflashofdisappointmentinhergaze.Oneday,Iwantedtogiveheradifferentreport.Butmysearchinthemountainshadbeenfruitless.
Cormacwasn’tgoingtomakethiseasy.Themotherfucker.
“Flagmedownifyouwantanotherrefill,”Lylasaid,thenreturnedtothecounter.
Astrangefeelingpinchedassheleft.Ididn’tlikethatsheseemedso…normal.
ThelastthingIneededwasaclingywoman.Otherthanorgasms,IhadverylittletoofferLyla.Sheseemedperfectlyhappytohavecasualsexandnotdiscussitthenextday.
ThiswasexactlywhatIwanted.Sowhydiditbothermesomuchtoseeherwalkaway?
You’relosingit,Sutter.
Ishookthefeelingawayanddoveintomymeal,inhalingthefood.Iwasdrainingthelastdregsofmycoffeewhentheshop’sdooropenedandWinslowEdenwalkedinside,carryingacutelittlegirl.Herdaughter?
Thegirlhaddarkhair,likehermother’s,anditwascurledintowispsbesideherears.Shewascuteasabuttonandcouldn’thavebeenmucholderthanone.WhenWinslowsetherdowntowalk,ittookamomentforthegirltogetherbalance.
“Emma!”Lyladartedaroundthecounter.
ThegirlgaveLylaadroolysmileasshetookoff,tryingtorun.Shestumbled,fallingforward,butcaughtherselfandpushedbackuprightbeforeLylasweptherintoahug.
“How’smygirl?”Lylakissedhercheek.
“Fussy,”Winnanswered.“She’sgettinganewtooth.GrifftookHudsontodoafewthingsontheranchafterlunch,sowedecidedtocometotownforatreat.”
“Howaboutabrownie?”LylatickledEmma’sside.“Andatriple-shotlatteforyourmom?”
“Yes,please.”Winnyawned,followingLylatothecounter.
Emmatoddledaround,leavingfingerprintsonthedisplaycase,whileWinnandLylatalked.Iwastoofarawaytomakeouttheirconversation,butLylawasinthemiddleofmakingthelattewhenherexpressionhardened.
Winnmusthavegivenheranupdateonthecase.Likely,noupdateatall.
Lylanodded,forcingasmilethatdidn’treachhereyes.Thenshefinishedwiththecoffeeandputhalfabrownieonaplate.
Thethreeofthemsattogetheratatable,thewomenwatchingasEmmamadeamesswithhertreat.Thenaftercleaningupherdaughter’schocolateyface,WinnhuggedLylagoodbyeandheadedforthedoor.
Ipretendedtobeintriguedbytheblankscreenonmyphoneuntilshewasoutthedoor.
WhenIlookedforLyla,shewasalreadywalkingmydirection.
“Youokay?”Iasked.
Sheliftedashoulderandpulledoutthechairacrossfrommine,slumpingintotheseat.“Iaskedifshe’dheardanythingandshesaidno.It’swhatIexpected.”
Expected,butstilldisappointing.HowmuchlongerdidIhaveuntilshefeltdisappointedinmyvisitstoo?
“Winnsaidthey’rejustkeepingaclosewatcharoundtown,”Lylamurmured,hervoicelow.“Andyousaidtherewasnoreasonforhimtocometotown.”
“Notlikely.”
Sheturnedhergazetotheglass,givingmeamomenttostudythatbeautifulprofile.I’ddonethesamelastnight,inthemutedlightofmidnight.I’dlainathersideandtracedthelineofherface,fromhersmoothforehead,downthestraightbridgeofhernose,overthosesoftlipstohergracefulchin,thendownthecolumnofherslenderneck.
Thescarfsheworetodaywashuntergreen.Itwouldlookgreatonthefloorofmyhotelroom.SowouldherblackEdenCoffeeT-shirtandthosefittedjeans.Heatwashedthroughmyveins.
“Howdidhegethisscar?”Herquestionmightaswellhavebeenabucketoficewaterdumpedovermyhead.
ThemoreshewantedtoknowaboutCormac,themoreitopenedmeuptoquestionsthatIcouldn’t—wouldn’t—answer.
“Wasitfromhiswife?Thenighthe,um…”Strangledher.“Didshefightback?”
IwishedIcouldtellheryes.Butthetruthwas,giventhattherehadn’tbeenanyevidenceofastruggle,itwasassumedthatCormachadtakenNorahoffguard.Thatshe’dbeenasshockedathisactionsaseveryoneelse.
Maybeshe’dtriedtofightback,buthe’dbeentoobig,toostrong.Herbloodtoxicityreporthadshownshe’dbeendrinking,probablyafewglassesofwinewithdinner.She’dlikelybeentooshockedandmuddledtorespond,andforhimtochokehertodeathwouldonlyhavetakenmereseconds.
“Hegotthescarfromacaraccident.”OfLyla’squestions,thisoneseemedtobetheeasiesttoanswer.“Hewasinhistwenties,Ibelieve.Hewasoutrunningonedaythroughaneighborhood.Therewasakidplayingbasketballinhisdriveway.Theballgotawayfromhimandrolledintothestreet.Thekidchasedafterit,notseeingtherewasanoncomingcar.Cormacwasclose.Sawwhatwasabouttohappen.Ranintothestreetandmanagedtoshovethekidoutoftheway.Earnedthatscarwhenthecar’sbumperhithiminstead.”
“Oh.”Lyla’seyebrowscametogether,confusioncontortingherface.“That’snotatallwhatIwasexpectingyoutosay.”
“Yeah.”
SheprobablythoughtI’dtellherastoryaboutahardenedcriminalinaknifefight.
Itwashardtoreconcileaheroandavillainwhosharedthesamescarredface.
Lylashooktheconfusionaway,thenshiftedherattentiontomyemptyplate.Shestoodquickly,collectingitandmywadded-upnapkin.“CanIbringyoumorecoffee?”
“No,thanks.I’llprobablytakeoff.”
“Okay.”Shegavemeanod,thenheadedfortheoppositeendofthecoffeeshop.
Onceagain,walkingawaylikeIwasjustanyotherpatron,notthemanwho’dfuckedherfourtimeslastnight.
Anotherday,I’dsithereandstudymymaps.I’dmarkoutthecountrythatI’dtraversedtodayandcharttomorrow’splan.
Butatthemoment,hernormalcywasdiggingbeneathmyskin.SoIcollectedmythingsandslippedoutthecoffeeshop’sdoor,makingmywaytowhereI’dparkedmytruckoutsidethehotel.
Insteadofgoinginsideandtakingahotshower,IclimbedbehindthewheelanddrovedownMain,followingtheroadasitturnedintothehighwaythatledoutoftown.
I’dtoldLylathatCormacwouldn’tcometoQuincy.Istilldoubtedhe’dshowhisfaceinanytown,thoughespeciallytheclosestonetowherehisencounterwithherhadoccurred.ButIwantedabetterideaofthearea,soIdrovetotheneighboringtown,fiftymilesaway.
Itwasnomorethanablipwithafewbusinesses,includingagasstation,barandsmallhotel.ItwasthekindofplacewhereCormacandthatscarwouldstandoutlikeaneonsign.Notaplacehe’dgounlessitwasanemergency.
ThebiggesttownintheareawasMissoula,butitwashoursawaybycar.Daysonfoot.Maybehe’dhikedthebackcountrytogettothatlargertown.Maybenot.
Wherewashe?Wherewouldhego?
Ihadnoideawhy,butmyguttoldmetosticktoQuincy.SoIturnedaroundandheadedback,bypassingthehoteloncemoretostopatthegrocerystore.
Mystashofbreakfastandhikingsnackswasdwindling.SoIwalkedthroughthestore’sdoubledoors,tuggedabasketfromthestackandwandereddowntheaisles.Iwasstudyingmyoptionsforproteinbarswhenawomanpassedtheendoftheaisle.
Shedisappearedwithaflashofredhair.
Myheartbeatstuttered.Mymusclestensed.Theresponsewasinvoluntary.
RedhairremindedmeofCormac.Ofthegirls.Inmymind,Iknewtherewasnopossiblewayhewasinthisgrocerystore.ThatoneofthegirlswasoutshoppingforicecreamorLuckyCharms.
Still,partofmewantedtofollowthatwoman.Seeherface.Ruleitout.Wouldn’tbethefirsttimeI’dfollowedaredheadedstranger.
Butitwasjustredhair.
Idraggedahandovermyface,shakingitoff.HowmanyyearswouldittakebeforeIcouldseearedheadandnotdoadoubletake?
IfIdidn’tfindCormac,maybeforever.
Hewastheghosthauntingmyeverydaylife.HewasthepastIcouldn’tletgo.Untilhewasfound,there’dbenopeace.
SoIgrabbedfiveboxesofgranolabars,enoughtolastmethisweek,andreturnedtothehotel.
Myshowerwaslongandhot.Iletthesteamworkthetensionfrommyshouldersandthighs.I’dcoveredsomeroughterraintodaythatwouldhavebeensteeponagoodday,butwithalltherain,ithadbeenslippery,addingtothechallenge.
Myenergywaswaning,butifLylacameover,I’dfindasecondwind.
BythetimeIfinallyshutoffthewater,myskinwasrawandred.Istoodatthesink,myearstrainedforthedoor,hopingforarepeatoflastnight.ForLyla’ssoftknock.Buttherewerenosoundsbeyondthisroom,soIdriedmyhairwiththetowelandtuggedonapairofsweats.
Withnothingelsetodo,IgrabbedtheTVremote,abouttoturnonagameorsomething.
Andthereitwas.
Theknock.
MydickswelledasIcrossedtheroom,notbotheringtocheckthepeepholeasIwhippedopenthedoor.
Lylastoodinthehallway,outofbreath.Hercheekswereflushedlikeshe’djustracedupthestairs.ItwasaSunday.EloiseandJasperhadn’tbeenheretoday,butLylahadstilllikelytriedtoescapenoticefromthefrontdeskclerk.
“Thecoffeeshopisclosed,”shesaid.“Idon’twanttogohome.”
“Thendon’t.”Iopenedthedoorwider.
Shesteppedinside.“I—”
Isealedmylipsoverhers,stoppingwhateveritwasshewasgoingtosay.Mytonguestrokedtheseamofherlips,savoringhersweettaste.
ShepartedformeandIsweptherinside,devouringeveryinchofhermouth.ThenIdidexactlyasI’dplannedearlier.Itookoffherscarfanddroppeditonmyfloor.
Herhandstrailedupmychest,hernailsdiggingintomyflesh.Thiswomanlikedtoleavehermark,andIfuckinglovedit.Ifshecameatmewithhernailslikeshehadlastnight,myshoulderswouldbeshreddedbymorning.Ididn’tgiveadamn.
Istrippedheroutofherclotheswhilesheshovedmysweatsoffmyhips.ThenIpickedherupandpinnedheragainsttheclosestwall.“Areyouwetforme?”
“Yes,”shepantedasIlickedherthroat.Herlegswrappedaroundmywaist.
Ipressedagainsthercenter,feelingthatslickheatagainstthecrownofmycock.Anothernight,Iwouldhavetastedhersweetpussy,butIwastooimpatient.SoIlinedupwithherentranceandthrusthome.“Fuck.”
“Vance.”Withonearm,sheclungtomyshouldersasshestretchedaroundmylength.Herotherhanddoveintomyhair,hershortnailsscrapingmyscalpandtuggingattheroots.“Fuckme.”
“Sayplease.”
Herheadlolledtotheside,hereyelidsflutteringclosed.“Pleasefuckme.”
Ipulledoutandslammedinside.Hard.
Lylacriedout,herinnerwallsalreadybeginningtopulse.
“Givemethatblue.”
IttookheramomentbutIwaited,buriedtothehilt,untilsheopenedhereyes,lockingthemwithmine.
Ikeptherfirmlyagainstthewall,holdingherjeweledgazeasIfuckedher.Strokeafterstroke,Ilostmyselfinherlithebody.
“OhGod.”ShecamefasterthanI’dexpected,agaspescapingherlipslikeithadsurprisedusboth.Thegriponmyhairtightenedandtherewasarealchanceshe’dhaveaclumptornfrommyscalpbythetimeweweredone.
Isavoredthesting,thepain,andkeptdrivingintohertightheatasshepulsedaroundmyshaft.Thatdelicioussqueezetriggeredthebuildatthebaseofmyspine.ThenIwascomingonaroar.
“Fuck,Blue.”Myreleasequakedthroughmybones.Myvisionblanked,andallIfeltwasher.
WhenIfinallycamedown,Lylahadcollapsedagainstmyshoulder,herbodystillpulsingaroundmeassheclungtomyframe,boneless.
Ipeeledheroffthewallandcarriedhertobed,rippingthecoversbackandsettingheronthesheets.ThenIwenttothebathroomforawarmclothtocleanherup.
HereyesopenedasIpressedthewashclothbetweenherlegs.“Youmakemeforget.”
“Youmakemeforgettoo.”
Forgettingwasn’tanoption,notwithwhatI’dcometoQuincytodo.Butthatdidn’tstopmefromhittingthelightsandclimbingintobed.
Orfromspendingtherestofthenightmakingsurewebothforgot.CHAPTERNINELYLA
TheEloiseInnhadbeeninmyfamilyforgenerations.Asakid,I’dplayedinthelobbywhileMomattendedtothedesk,greetingandhelpingguests.Asateen,I’dspentmysummershereasahousekeeper,cleaningroomsforclothesandgasmoney.
Butithadn’tbeenuntilthispastweekthat,forthefirsttime,Itrulyunderstoodthecharmofthishotel.Becauseforthepastweek,I’dbasicallybeenaguest.
Eachnightafterwork,I’dslipupthestairwelltoVance’sroomonthefourthfloor.We’dspendhoursintheplushbed,wearingeachothertoexhaustion.We’dtakeahotshowertogetherinthemiddleofthenight,thendryoffwithsofttowelsthatsmelledlikespringrain.ThenI’dcrash,sleepinglikethedeaduntilmyalarmblaredatfour.I’dwakeearlytosneakoutofthebuildingandheadtomycoffeeshopacrossthestreet.
Thishotelhadbecomeasanctuary.OrmaybethatwasjustVance.
“Areyougoingtoworkorhome?”heasked.
Dressedonlyinhisfamiliargraysweatpants,hishairaskewfrommyfingers,heopenedthedoor,leaningouttocheckthehallway.Whenheconfirmeditwasempty,hestoodagainstitsface,proppingitwide.
“Work.”Ikeptmyvoicelowfrommyseatontheedgeofthebed,benttotiemytennisshoes.
Thelongesttendrilsofmyhairwerestilldampfromlastnight’sshower,soI’dtwisteditintoaknot.MyskinsmelledlikeVance,aheadymixtureofsoapandspiceandearth.And,otherthanthecleanpantiesI’dstashedinmypurse,Iwaswearingyesterday’sclothes.Ateeandapairofjeanswerewaitingformeinmyoffice.
I’dsneaktotheshopandchange,noonethewiserthatIhadn’tsleptinmyownbedforaweek.
Thesecrecywasarush.Sofar,I’dmanagedtoavoidmyfamilybycomingtoTheEloiseeachnightandleavingbeforedawneachmorning.Inaway,Ifeltlikeateenager,infatuatedwithaboyforthefirsttimeinherlife.
NotthatVancecouldeverbemistakenforaboy.Notwiththatsix-foot-fiveframe.
Hisbicepsflexedashecrossedhisarmsoverhischest,relaxingagainstthatdoor.Thedustingofhairoverhispecsonlymadehimseembroader.Stronger.Lastnight,I’dtracedeveryinchofhiswashboardabswithmytongue.
“Areyougoingouttoday?”Iglancedovermyshouldertothewindows.We’dbeensocaughtupineachotherlastnight,fromthemomenthe’dpulledmeintotheroom,we’dbarelybrokenapart.Andwhenwe’dfinallycrashed,neitherofushadmusteredtheenergytoclosethecurtains.
Beyondtheglass,onlythemutedlightsfromMainilluminatedtheoutlineofroofsandbuildings.
“Yeah,”Vancesaid.“I’llheadupbeforefirstlight.”
“Watchoutforgrizzlybears.”Istood,crossingthespacebetweenus.
Vanceframedmyfaceinhishands,bendingtobrushakisstomylips.Histongueflickedout,lickingmybottomlip.
Ashiverraceddownmyspine,andasIshivered,hedeepenedthekiss,histongueslidinginsideandstrokingminewithalazyswirl.WhenIroseuponmytoes,seekingmore,hewrappedhisarmsaroundme,haulingmeintothehardplaneofhischest.
Thenhekissedme.God,thewaythismankissedme.
ItwaslikeIwashisair.Hisreasonforbreathing.Silly,consideringwewerejustfoolingaroundwhilehewasintown.Still,Isankintothekissasapulsebloomedinmycenter.Desirecoiledinmylowerbelly.
ButbeforeIcouldshovethosesweatsoffhisnarrowhips,hepulledaway.“Ifwedon’tstopnow…”
Wewouldn’tstopforhours.AndwhileIhadn’tneededtomentiontoVancethatIwassneakinginandout,doingmyverybesttogounnoticed,heknew.Ifpeoplesawustogether,itwouldonlyleadtoquestions.
Weweren’tansweringquestions,noteveneachother’s.
Vancehadn’ttoldmemuchabouthislifeinIdaho.Hehadn’tofferedmoredetailsaboutCormac.Pillowtalkthispastweekhadcenteredaroundasafetopic—me.
We’dtalkedaboutmyfamily.AboutlifegrowingupinQuincy.Howmymomhadtaughtmetocookandbake.Lastnight,he’daskedmequestionafterquestionaboutthecoffeeshop,soI’dtoldhimhowI’dusedmyinheritancetostartthebusinessandsomeofthehurdlesI’djumpedoveralongtheway—employeesandexpenses.
He’dlistenedwithraptattention.MaybeIshouldhavebeenflattered.NomanbeforeVancehadevertakensuchanavidinterestinmylife.MostguysI’ddatedhadseenEdenCoffeeascompetitionforattention.
Vance’sgenuinecuriositywasrefreshing.Still,somethingabouthisinterestbotheredme.Maybebecauseitwastoostrong.
Becauseifweweretalkingaboutme,thenweweren’ttalkingabouthim.
Hehadn’tsharedonetidbitofpersonalinformation.NotonescrapthatIcouldclingto.
Thiswasjustsex.Incredible,mind-blowing,toe-curlingsex.BeforeVance,Ihadn’tevenknownwhatanorgasmshouldfeellike.Mybodycameapartunderhishands.Ifoundmyselfbecomingbolder,takingthepleasureIcraved.AndVancedelivered,timeandtimeagain.
Anotherwomanmighthavebeenokaydrawingthatline.She’dsimplybegratefulthatshewasgettingfuckedbyanAdoniseverynight.
YetIyearnedformore.Wasthatmyproblem?ThatIalwayswantedmore?
Iwantedwhatthismancouldn’tgiveme.
WasIokaywiththat?Maybe.Maybenot.
“Didyoudecidehowlongyouwerestaying?”Iasked,grabbingmycoatfromwhereithadlandedonthefloorlastnight.“Doyouneedtogetbacktowork?”
“Notsureyet,”hesaid.“I’llletyouknow.”
Wouldhethough?OrwouldIcometothisroomonenightandfindhimgone?
ThatwasaquestionIdidn’twantanswered,soIsnaggedmypurse,loopingitoverashoulder,thenwenttohimforachastekiss.“Seeya.”
“Bye,Blue.”
Thatnickname,likethecoffeeshop’sbell,alwaysmademesmile.MycheekswarmedasIsteppedintothehallway,doingmyownchecktoensureIwasalone.ThenIhurriedforthestairwell,lookingbackforabriefmomentbeforeduckingthroughthedoor.
Vancewasgone.
Ihurrieddownstairs,takingtheexitthatledtothealleyandparkinglotbehindTheEloise.ThenIzippedupmycoat,tuckingmyhandsintothepocketstokeepthemwarmasIroundedthebuildingandjoggedacrossMain.
WhenIreachedthesidewalkoutsidethecoffeeshop,Ilookeduptothehotel,searchingforVanceinthewindow.Hisframefilledtheglass.
Ididn’twave.Justincasesomeonesawmeoutonthestreet,Ididn’twanttoriskthatexposure.Isimplyturnedandwalkedtothecoffeeshop,diggingmykeysfrommypursetounlockthefrontdoor.
Thestillnessintheshopsettledmyracingheart.NecessitywasthereasonI’dstartedcomingtotheshopatfouro’clockinthemorning.WhiletherestofQuincywasasleep,Icouldworkinsilencewithoutdistraction.
Soafterquicklychangingmyclothes,Ibusiedmyselfinthekitchen.Today,Ifeltlikeasliceofhomemadewholewheattoastwithsaltedbutterandapricotpreservesforbreakfast,soIgottowork.
Thescentofyeastandflourwasnormallyascomfortingasanyhug,butasIleftthedoughtorise,Iwaitedforthetensiontoslipfrommyshoulders.IwaitedforthepeaceInormallyfoundinthesequiet,earlyhours.
Itnevercame.There’dbeensomethingoffaboutmymorningsforweeks.Eversincetheriver.
InsteadofenjoyingalattebeforeIflippedontherestoftheshop’slightsandopenedforthepublic,IfoundmyselfsittinginVance’schair,staringoutatthestreet.
Histruckwasstillparkedoutsidethehotel.
Thelightinhisroomwasoff.
Myhandcametomythroat,feelingmyskin.Iwastiredofscarves,soIhadn’tbroughtonetoweartoday.
Thebruiseswerefading,daybyday,andbesides,itwasn’tlikeeveryoneintowndidn’tknowwhathadhappenedbynow.GossiptraveledfasterthanabulletinQuincy,Montana.
WasthatwhyIwantedtoknowallaboutVance?BecauseI’dbeentrainedbythissmalltowntofeedmycuriosity?Thatsecretsweren’tsacred,theywereachallenge?
OrmaybeIwasjustawomanwhowantedtoknowaboutthemanshe’dletinsideherbody.
Ishookoffthethought.ItwasthefirstMondayinOctober.Mondayswereusuallyslow,especiallythistimeofyear,whenwehadfewtouristsintown.
Onadaylikethis,I’dusuallyletCrystalmakecoffeeandservecustomerswhileIspenthoursdecoratingthesewindows,hand-paintingwhitespiderwebsinthecornersoftheglass.I’dhavespookycookiesintheovenandajarofcandycornonthecounterfordecoration.
IlookedforwardtoHalloweeneachandeveryyear.Butjustthethoughtoffindingmypaintbrushanddecoratingthewindowsmademylipcurl.
God,whatwaswrongwithme?WhenwasIgoingtostartfeelinglikemyselfagain?Ithadbeenweekssincetheriver.Whenwoulditstopweighingsoheavilyonmysoul?
“Lyla.”
“Ah!”Ijumped,practicallyleapingoutofmychairasCrystal’shandtouchedmyshoulder.“OhmyGod.Youscaredme.”
“I’msosorry.Ithoughtyouheardmecomeinthebackdoor.”
“It’sfine.”Iwaveditoff,thentookabreath,willingmyhearttoclimboutofmythroat.
“Whatareyoudoing?”sheasked.“Justsittinginthedark?”
“Oh,Iwasjust,um…tryingtofigureouthowIcouldpaintspiderwebsandthenturnthemintosnowflakesafterThanksgiving,”Ilied.
“Goodidea.I’doffertohelp,butI’mhopelesswithartprojects.”Shegavemeanexaggeratedfrown.
Herlipstickwasorangetoday,thecolorofcarrots.Crystalhadadifferentcolorlipstickforeachdayofthemonth,rangingfrombluetoredtogreen.
HerquirkynaturewaspartofwhyI’dhiredher.Shedidn’tcarethatsomeofthegrumpyoldmenintowngaveherstrangelookswhensheworepurplelipstick.Shewasconfidentinherstyleandherself.
Iusuallyfeltthesame.Just,notlately.Notsincetheriver.
Wasitthebruises?WouldIfeellikemeagainoncetheywerecompletelygone?
Mygazeshiftedtothewindowsagain.“Whatiftherewerenowebsthisyear?Whatifweskippedthesnowflakes?”
“Whatdoyoumean?”Crystalasked.“Likedosomethingelse?Spidersorwhatever?”
Orwhatever.
“I’llcomeupwithsomething,”Isaid,givingheraforcedsmile.ThenIfollowedhertothecounterandhelpedprepfortheday.
Ipretendedthateverythingwasnormal.IsmiledlikeImeantit.
NottenminutesafterCrystalhadunlockedthefrontdooratsix,thebelljingledandIlookedupfromwhereI’dbeenmakingthatlatteformyself.
Vancecrossedtheshop,stoppingatthecounter.“Hi.”
“Goodmorning.”I’dassumedhe’dbelonggoneforthemountainsbynow,butwithCrystalhere,Ididn’task.
Hisbeaniecoveredhisunrulyhair.Hiscoatmoldedtothosebroadshoulders.Thosebright,cleareyesrakedovermybody,headtotoe.“Coffee.”
“Theydidn’thaveanyatthehotel?”
“Yoursisbetter.”
Yes,itwas.“Togo?”
Henodded.“Please.”
Please.Lastnight,VancehadmademesaypleaseeachtimeI’dwantedtocome.He’dmademebeg,andithadmadethereleasesomuchsweeter.MycheeksflushedasIfilledhispapercup.
ThetimerI’dbroughtoutfromthekitchendinged,signalingthebreadwasdone.
“I’llgetit,”Crystalsaid,leavingusalone.
“Youlikethat,don’tyou?”Vance’svoicewasadeepmurmur.“Me,sayingplease.”
“Yes.ButIliketobetheonetosaypleasetoo,”Iwhispered.
“Noted.”Thecornerofhismouthturnedup.“I’llmakeyousayitlater.”
“You’reon,Sutter.”Ihandedoverhiscoffee,shakingmyheadwhenhetriedtopay.“It’sonme.”
Vancereachedforhiswallet,takingoutafive-dollarbill.Hewinkedashesetitonthecounter.“Seeya,Blue.”
Hewalkedaway,coffeeinhand.Hewasescapingtothemountains.
Anoddfeelingcameovermeasheheadedforthedoor.Itfeltalotlike…envy.
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,thelastplaceIwantedtobewaswithinthesewalls.Ididn’twanttobakeandserveandsmile.
“Vance?”Icalled,stoppinghim.
Hestopped.“Yeah?”
“CanIgowithyoutoday?”WhatwasIevenasking?Ineededtowork.Didn’tI?
“Sure,”heagreedwithouthesitation.
Myheartgalloped.Spontaneitywasnot,well…me.Buttheideaofditchingworkfeltsoright.“Ineedtotakemycarhome.Meetmeinthealleyinfiveminutes?”
“’Kay.”
IrushedawayfromthecountersofastInearlytrippedonmyownfeet.ThenIhustledtothekitchen,whereCrystalwasputtingmybreadloavesoncoolingracks.“Hey,wouldyoucareifItookofffortoday?”
Sheblinked,likethatquestionhadshockedherintosilence.“You’renotsupposedtoworkMondays.”
“Huh?”
“Whenyouhiredme,yousaidyouweregoingtotakeMondaysoff.”
“Oh.”YetIneverletherworkalone.
Ithadnothingtodowithher.Andeverythingtodowithme.
“Well,ifyou’reokaywithit,I’lltakeofftoday.”
“Ofcourse.”Shesmiled,standingtaller.Herbrowneyessparkled.“Icanhandleit.”
“Iknowyoucan,”Itoldher,thenhurriedtomyofficetocollectmycoatandyesterday’sclothes.
WiththemshovedintomypursesoCrystalwouldn’tnotice,Iheadedformycar.Likeithadbeeneverymorning,thewindowswerecoatedinfrost.Itossedmythingsinsideandquicklyscrapedtheglass,finishingjustasVancepulledhistruckintothealley.
Iclimbedinthecarandledthewaytomyhouse.
Thereweren’talotofbrand-newhomesinQuincy,butalongwithbuyingandrenovatingthebuildingonMainforEdenCoffee,I’dusedmyinheritancetobuildmydreamhouseabouttwomilesfromtown.
Itwasfarmhousestyle,withprettywhitesidingandaquaintporch.Theblackshuttersmatchedtheshadeofthetinroof.Therewerethreebedrooms,aspaciouskitchenandanoffice.Theotherhousesintheneighborhoodwerehometogrowingfamilies.ThatwaswhatI’denvisionedforthishouse.Afamily.
AsIeasedintothedrivewayandparkedinthegarage,takinginmycharminghome,aheavinesssettledinmychest.
Whatiftherewasnofamily?Whatifitwasonlyme?
TheslamofVance’struckdoorsnappedmeoutofthatthought,andIshutoffmycarandgotout,joininghiminthedrivewaysowecouldgointhroughthefrontdoor.
“Niceplace.”Hetookitallin,toptobottom,justlikeheusuallydidwithme.
Thatwashisway,wasn’tit?Hescanned.Assessed.
“Ijustwanttochangeintosomethingwarmer,”Isaid.
“Takeyourtime.”Hefollowedmeinside,closingthedoorbehinduswhileIrusheddownthehallformybedroom.
Itonlytookminutestopullonathicksweatshirtandhikingboots.ThenIgrabbedacoat,hatandgloves,carryingthemouttothelivingroom,whereIfoundVanceleaningintostudyaframedpicturehangingonthewall.
“Thisisyourfamily?”heasked,nottearinghiseyesfromthephoto.
“Itis.Thosearemyparentsandmybrothersandsisters.”Icametostandbyhisside,takinginthedatedphoto.StrangehowIpassedthispictureeverydaybuthadn’treallylookedatitinawhile.
“ThatwasKnox’ssenioryearinhighschool,”Isaid.“Momwassayingtheotherdayhowweneededtogetanewphototakennowthatourfamilyhasgrownsomuch.”
Husbands.Wives.Children.
MateoandIwouldbepairedtogether,nodoubt,astheonlytwosinglepeopleinourfamily.
“Doyouhaveabigfamily?”
Vancestraightened,turningfromthepicture.Notawordescapedhislips.
Apparentlyhisfamily,alongwitheveryotherpersonaltopic,wasoff-limits.
“Right,”Imuttered.“Toopersonal.Youcanfuckmesenselesseverynight,butthat’swhereitends.”
“Lyla—”
“It’sfine.”Iflickedmywrist.Itwasn’tfine.Nothingrightnowwasfine.IfIwasbeinghonestwithmyself,thatoutbursthadmoretodowithmethanitdidVance.
IpulledoffthehatI’djustputon,feelingtoohot.Thesweatshirtwassuddenlysuffocating.“Actually,IthinkI’mgoingtojuststayhometoday.Yougowithoutme.”
Vance’sfacewasunreadable.Maybehewasrelieved.Maybehewassorry.Maybehewasannoyed.FuckifIknew.
“Raincheck.”Hegavemeasinglenod,thenwalkeddowntheentrywayandoutthedoor.
Ididn’tstophim.InsteadIreachedforthehemofmysweatshirtandrippeditfrommytorso,throwingitonthefloor.“Gah!”
Whatwaswrongwithme?Ididn’twanttobeatwork.Ididn’twanttobeathome—Ididn’twanttobeanywhere.I’dbeensleepingwithVanceandknewnothingabouthim.
Everythingwaswrong
AndIdidn’tknowhowtomakeitright.
Iungluedmyfeet,abouttogotothekitchen.Maybemyfavoriteroominthehousewouldmakemefeelmorelikemyself.ButthenmyownreflectioncaughtmyeyeinthedecorativemirrorI’dhungononeofthelivingroomwalls.
Itstoppedmecold.
Mythroatwasawashofgreenishyellow.Buttherewereafewcirclesstillblackandblue.Isteppedclosertothemirror,takinginthosecircles.
Fingertips.TheywerefromCormac’sfingertips.
Themotherfucker.
“Cormac.”
ItwasthefirsttimeI’dsaidhisnameoutloud.
“Cormac.”Myvoicewasstronger.Firmer.Angrier.
Iknewhisname.Iknewhiscrimes.IknewbecauseofVance.BecauseI’dbelievedeverywordhe’dgivenmeaboutmyattacker.
Meanwhile,hedidn’tspeakofhisfamily.Hisfriends.Hisjob.Hislife.Allhe’deverreallysharedwasaboutCormac.
Thehairsonthebackofmyneckstoodonend.
WhowasVance?WhatifIwaswrong?He’dtoldmehewasacop,buthe’dnevershownmeabadge.I’dneveraskedtoseeone.
Winnneverwentanywherewithouthers.EvenwhenshewenttoMomandDad’shouseforafamilydinnerattheranch,shebroughtalongherbadge.
I’dspentaweeksleepinginVance’shotelroomwithnobadgeinsight.
“OhmyGod.”Iwrappedmyarmsaroundmywaist,myheadspinning.
Everythinghe’dtoldmeI’dkeptfromWinn.He’daskedmetokeepitquietandI’dagreed.WhatifI’dmadeahugemistake?
ThedayI’dfoundCormaconthatriver,I’dassumedhe’dsayhello.I’dassumedwe’dtalkabouttheweatherbeforegoingourseparateways.I’dassumedhecouldbetrusted.
AndI’dtrustedVance.
I’dblindlybelievedVancebecausehe’dtoldmeeverythingI’dwantedtohear.Mystomachpitched.
“You’resuchafuckingidiot,”Isnappedatmyreflection,thenIbolted,grabbingmykeysbeforeIsprintedforthegarage.
AndwhileIdrovetothepolicestation,IpretendedthatIwasn’tbetrayingVance.CHAPTERTENVANCE
ThemomentIsteppedacrossthethresholdatthehotel,Ifeltaprickleofawareness.Ofwrongness.There’dbeenaknotinmyguteversinceI’dleftLyla’shousethismorning.
Ituntied.
NotbecauseIdidn’thavetoworry.ButbecauseIcouldstopdreadingtheinevitable.
WinslowEdenstoodnexttothemahoganyreceptiondesk,hereyestrainedonmeasIwalkedacrossthespace.
Besideher,Eloisesattaller,hereyesnarrowing.Jasper’sfacewasgranite,hisframelockedandhandsfisted.Helookedreadytoleapinfrontofhiswifeandshieldherfromdanger.Again.
Wasn’tthatafuckingshame?ThatthesepeoplethoughtIwasathreat?
WhenIwastenfeetawayfromthedesk,Winnpushedoffitsedge,closingthedistancebetweenus.Wearingablackbutton-downandapairofjeans,herdarkhairunboundandfallingoverhershoulders,sheshouldn’thavebeenimposing.Butherbadgewasunmistakable.Andthatgun.
Thiswasawomanwhowasnotafraidtouseit.
Westoppedthreefeetapart.Shetiltedupherchintokeepmygaze.
“ChiefEden.”Idippedmychin.
“OfficerSutter.”Hervoicewascool.Calm.Lethal.
SosheknewIwasacop.Itdidn’tcomeasasurprisebutitstillfuckingsucked.Shit
“Ithinkwe’dbetterhaveaconversation,”Winnsaid.
Iglancedlonginglytothelobby’sfireplaceandtheleathercouchesarrangedaroundacoffeetable.Notachancewe’dbehavingthatconversationhere,wouldwe?
“Yourcar?Ormine?”
***
TwohoursafterI’darrivedattheQuincypolicestation,IstoodfromthechairthathadbeenmycaptorandextendedahandacrossWinslow’sdesk.
“Appreciateyouhearingmeout,”Isaid.
Shestoodtoo,shakingmyhandwithanod.“Lylawasupsetwhenshecamedownearlier.Shedeservesthetruth.”
“Shedoes.Ifit’sallright,I’dliketobetheonetotellher.”
“Tonight.”Winnarchedaneyebrow,asilentthreat.IfIwantedtobetheonetotellLylathetruth,theclockwasticking.
“Tonight.”Itookmycoatfromthebackofthechairandtuggediton.ThenIstrappedonthebackpackI’dtakenhikingwithme.
Winnhadn’tletmedropitoffintheroom.Instead,she’dhauledmedirectlytothestationinherunmarkedrig.I’dexpectedhertositmyassinaninterrogationroom,butshe’dshownmenomercyandchosenherofficeforthisconversationinstead.
Onlycopsunderstoodthatachief’sorcaptain’sofficewasworsethananinterrogationroom.
Afilewithmynameonithadbeensittingonherdeskwhenwe’dwalkedin,leftoutinplainsightformetosee.Butshehadn’ttoucheditsincewe’dcomeinhere.Probablybecausewebothknewwhatwasinside.
Mydemons.
Cormac.Theshooting.
Ratherthantellmewhatsheknew,she’daskedformystory,thenshe’dlistened.WhenIwasdone,she’ddeliveredtheasschewingofallasschewings.
I’dalwaysthoughtmycaptainwasthebestatcuttingamandown,butdamn,Winncouldgivehimlessons.
She’dlecturedmefornotcontactingherinregardtoCormac.Fornotsharinginformationaboutacriminal.Forpotentiallycontaminatingacrimescene.She’dputmeinmydamnplaceandhadn’tmincedwordsintheprocess.
Thefuckinghellofitwas,Ilikedher.Still.Ilikedher.Thatasschewinghadbeendonewithrespect.Poise.
Iadmiredthehelloutofherforthat.Ibetthecopsworkinginthebullpenoutsideherofficeadmiredthehelloutofhertoo.They’dbefoolsotherwise.
“Ishouldmakeaphonecalltoyourcaptain,”Winnsaid.“Thentellyoutogetthehelloutofmytown.”
“Youshould.”Butwouldshe?
“MyjurisdictionisQuincy,”shesaid.“Thesheriffhascountyaswellassearchandrescue.”
Meaningbeyondthetown’slimits,herhandsweretied.
Minewerenot.
Winnsmirkedassheshruggedashoulder.“Ican’tstoppeoplefromgoinghiking.”
AndifIwasheronlyresourceatthemomentfortrackingdownthemanwho’dharmedLyla,shewasn’tgoingtostandinmyway.
“WhatabouttheFBI?”Iasked.
Hereyebrowscametogetherasshethoughtaboutitforalongmoment.“I’llpasstheAPBalongtoalocalagent.Iftheychoosetoinvestigate,thenIwon’tstandintheirway.”
Well,fuck.
Iguessitwouldhavebeentoogoodtobetrueformetobeleftalone.Butshecouldn’texactlylecturemeonfollowingproperchannelswhilesheignoredthemtoo.
“Allright.”Inodded,thenopenedthedoorandstrodeoutofheroffice.
IfelteyesonmeasIwalkedtowardtheexit,butIkeptmygazeforwarduntilIwasoutsidethestation.
ThesecondthecoolOctoberairhitmyface,IrealizedIdidn’thaveavehicle.“Sonofabitch.”
Winterwascomingandthedaysweregrowingshorterandshorter.Itwasonlysixbutthesunhadalreadysetbehindthemountains.DarknesshadfallenoverQuincy,andthoughI’dalreadyspentmostofthedayhiking,Iputonefootinfrontoftheotherandtrudgeddowntowntothehotel.Butinsteadofgoinginside,Idugmykeysfrommycoatpocketandheadedstraightformytruck.
ThelightsatLyla’swereon,glowinggoldandbrightfromtheabundanceofwindows.Iparkedinherdrivewaybutcouldn’tbringmyselftoshutofftheengine.
MaybeIshouldhavebeenangrywithherforgoingtoWinn.MaybeIshouldhavefeltbetrayed.
Butthiswasonme.
Therewerejusttoomanyfuckingsecrets.
HowlonghadIkeptthemalltomyself?NotevenTiffknewthefulltruth.We’dstarteddatingafterCormachaddisappeared,andwhileshe’dgottenbitsandpiecesofthestory,she’dneverhearditall.
IfIgotoutofthistruck,ifIknockedonLyla’sfrontdoor,she’dunderstandwhyCormacwassoimportant.
Wasshereadyforthat?WasI?
Ithadbeenfouryears,andfuck,Iwastiredofcarryingthisalone.Iwastiredoffailing.Iwastiredofsleeplessnights.
ThebestsleepI’dhadinyearshadbeenthispastweek.LylaandIhadspentplentyofhourshavingsex,butwhenwe’dexhaustedeachother,I’dcrashed,notwakinguntilheralarmwentoffatfour.
Winnhadtoldmetogetmyassoverhere,buttherealreasonIwasstaringatthisfarmhousewasbecauseIwasn’treadytoloseLyla.
Thatwouldcomesoonenough.ThatwouldcomewhenIreturnedhome.
Ortonight,whensheslammedthedoorinmyface.
Ishutoffmytruckandclimbedout,tuckingmyhandsinmypocketsasIclimbedthestairstoherporch.ThenIpressedthedoorbellandheldmybreath.
Footstepssoundedinside.Herfaceappearedintheglassinsertofthedoorassheroseuponhertoestoseewhowasoutside.Themomentshespottedme,herbeautifulfacehardened.
Itlookedstrangeonherlovelyface.Outofplace.Andfuckmeforbeingtheassholewho’dmadehersmiledisappear.
IwasjustasbadasCormacforthat.
Lylahesitated,standingonhersideofthedoorunmoving.
ItfeltlikehoursthatIstoodthere,myshallowbreathswhiteinthecoldnightair.Thenfinally,sheflippedthedeadbolt.
Thankfuck.Theairrushedfrommylungsasshestoodinthethreshold.Herfeetwerebare.Hertoeswouldgetcold.ButIdidn’tasktocomeinside.
Shewouldn’tletmeanyway.
“Areyoureallyacop?”sheasked.
Myforeheadfurrowed.Ifthatwasherfirstquestion,itmeantthatshewasquestioningeverything.ThatshethoughtI’dbeenlyingtoherfromthestart.Damn
“Yes,”Isaid.“I’macop.I’madeputywiththeKootenaiCountySheriff’sOffice,intheBackCountryUnit.Idon’thavemybadge.ItwouldbeuselessinMontana,soIleftitbehind.”
Itwasmoreorlessthetruth.
Somesecretsweren’tfortonight.
“IgrewupinCoeurd’Alene.I’vealwayslovedtheoutdoors.Hiking.Fishing.Hunting.ButIalsowantedtobeacop.Iguessyoucouldsaymyjobisthebestofbothworlds.”
ThoughmaybeIshouldhavejustbecomeaguide.MaybeIshouldhavegonetoworkforanoutfittingcompany,panderingtothewealthytouristswhocametothePacificNorthwestinsearchofawildernessadventure.
Hell,maybeIshouldn’trulethatoutyet.Dependingontheoutcomeoftheinvestigation,thatmightbemyfallbackoption.
“HowcanIbelieveyou?”Aflashofguiltcrossedherface,likeshehatedtoevenask.Likeamonthago,shewouldn’thavehadtoask.
Butthenshe’dmetCormac.
AndIknewfirsthandhowhecoulddestroyaperson’sabilitytotrust.
Ifishedmyphonefrommyjeanspocket,quicklypullingupanewspaperarticle.“Thisspring,twosixteen-year-oldkidswenthiking.Athunderstormblewinfastandtheygotlost.Iwentoutandfoundthem.”
Thepaperhadcalledmeahero.Ironicthatjustmonthslater,I’dbecomethebadguy.
Iscrolleddownthearticletothephotothey’dtakenofbothAlecandmeaftertherescue.Thetwoofusweredressedintancanvashikingpantsandmatchingbutton-downshirts.MybadgeglintedunderthesummersunasbrightlyasAlec’sbaldhead.
HandingthephonetoLyla,Iwaitedasshescannedthearticleandinspectedthepicture.Hershouldersslumpedasshereachedtheend.
“Thanks.”Shereturnedmyphone,thencrossedherarms.“ItoldWinnwhoyouare.”
“Ijustcamefromthestation.”
Anotherflashofguiltcrossedherface.
“It’sokay,”Itoldher.
Lylaglancedpastmyshoulder,staringintothedarkness.Shelookedanywherebutatmyface.
“Areyourtoescold?”
Shedroppedhergaze,likeshe’dforgottenherownfeet.“Yes.”
“Grabsomesocks.I’llwait.”
Withanod,sheturned,partiallyclosingthedoor.Shereturnedaminutelater,herfeetcoveredinthickwoolsocks.She’dpulledonasweatertoo.
She’dbundledherselffromthecoldbecauseIwasnotinvitedintoherhouse
Damn.
AtleastIcouldgiveherthetruthshedeserved,thenleaveheralonetofindherpeacewithit.
“Alecistheguyinthephotowithme,fromthatarticle,”Isaid.“Thebackcountryunitisasmallpartofthesheriff’sdepartment,somostofthetime,Iworkalone.Butinasense,youcouldconsiderhimmypartner.He’sonlybeenaroundforfouryears.Beforethat,mypartnerwasaguyfromAlaska.”
Lylashifted,leaningagainstthedoor’sframeasshelistened,likethisdayhadwornheroutsoentirelythatsheneededthesupport.
“Hislovefortheoutdoorswastenfoldmine.Hewasintosurvivaliststuff.HetalkedaboutapplyingtobeonthatshowAlone.Haveyouseenit?”
“Yes,”shemurmured.
“Hehadalotofskills.Hetaughtmealot.MorethanI’deverlearnedasanEagleScout.”
“YouwereanEagleScout?”
“Yeah.”Inodded.“Otherguysdidbasketballorfootballinhighschool.IwasaBoyScout.”
Literally.Figuratively.
NoonewassurprisedwhenI’ddecidedtogointolawenforcement.
“ThatmanfromAlaskawasCormac.Hewasmypartner.”
Lyla’sgasprangloudinthestillnight.
“Notjustmypartner.Hewasmybestfriend.Mymentor.”
Hergazesnappedtomine.“That’showyouknowsomuchabouthim.”
“Hewasagoodman.Ilookeduptohim.Ilearnedfromhim.Inaway,hewaswhoIwantedtobecome.”
“Vance…”
“Itdoesn’tmakesense.TheCormacIknewadoredhiswife.Hedotedonhischildrenandtreatedhisfamilyliketheywerehisentireworld.Hewasagoodman.”OrsoI’dthought.“It’sbeenfouryears.HowdidInotseethemonsterhebecame?HowdidImissthat?HowcouldIbesowrong?”
Thosebrightblueeyesweresosincere.Sohonest.“I’msorry.”
“Metoo.”Igaveherasadsmile.“IfIdon’tfindhim,noonewill.He’stoogood.Toocareful.ButIhavetoknowwhathappenedthatnight.Ihavetoknowwhyhe…”Murderedthem.
Lyla’sfacesoftenedasdesperationcrackedmyvoice.“DidIruineverythingtoday?GoingtoWinn?”
“No.”Ishookmyhead.“Ishouldhavegonetoherfromthestart.”
“Whatdidshesay?”
“Shesaidshecouldn’tstopaguyfromhiking.”
AghostofasmilecrossedLyla’slips.“Really?”
“ShewantsCormacfoundforwhathedidtoyou.I’mherbestchance.”
“Andmine.”Sheclosedhereyes,drawinginalongbreath.Thenassheexhaled,shestoodtall.“Thanksfortellingme.”
“SorryIdidn’tsooner.”
“It’sprobablynottheeasiestthingtorelive.”
Ofcourseshe’dunderstandwhyI’dkeptittomyself.TherewassomethinguniquelyspecialaboutLylaEden.Herheart.
Shewasthewomanwaitinginthecoffeeshopwithakindsmile.Thewomansosteady,soconstant,thatnottellinghereverythinghadtakeneffort.
“Goodnight.”Iturnedtoleave.Mybootsthuddedontheporchboards,butbeforeIcouldjogdownthestairs,Lylacalledmyname.
“Vance?”
Itwisted.Thoseprettyeyeswaited.
Shetookastepbackintothehouse,thenopenedthedoorwide.“Comeinside.”
“Yousure?”
“Please.”
Thecornerofmymouthturnedup.
Itfeltlikealifetimeago,butithadjustbeenthismorningwhenI’dpromisedtomakehersayplease.
Timetomakegoodonthatpromise.
SoIcrossedtheporchandwalkedinside,closingthedoor.Then,rightthereintheentryway,Isealedmylipsoverhersandstrippedheroutofthatsweaterandthosesocks.Therestofherclothescameofftoo.
Andwhenshewaspressedagainstthewall,mycockburiedinsideher,Ibentmylipstoherear.“Saypleaseifyouwanttocome.”
Ashiverrolledoverhershouldersasherpussyflutteredaroundmylength.“Please.”CHAPTERELEVENLYLA
“You’retakingthedayoff?”Crystal’seyebrowsshotup,practicallyskimmingherhairline.“Again?”
“Um,Idon’thaveto.”Iwantedtoblowoffworktodaybutwouldn’tifitmadeheruncomfortable.“Icanstay.”
“No!”Sheshookherheadandwavedherarmsintheair.“Iwasjustsurprised.Go.”
“Areyousur—”
“Seeya.”
Asmidgeofguiltprickled,butIshovedthefeelingawayasItookonelastglancearoundthekitchen.I’dbeenherebakingsincefourthismorning.Thedisplaycaseandwalk-inwerebothstocked.Mostoftheprepworkwasdoneandeverydishandcoffeecupwasclean.
Fortheseconddayinarow,IwasleavingEdenCoffeeinCrystal’shands.Iftodaywasanythinglikeyesterday,Ihadnothingtoworryabout.
WhenI’dcomeinthismorning,theshophadbeenspotlessandthekitchengleamingbeneaththebrightflorescentlights.Crystalhadreorganizedtheshelvesbesidethedishwasher,swappingthebowlsandplates,movingthelatterdown.Weusedtheplatestwiceasoftenasthebowlsandnowtheywereeasiertograb.
Itwasalittlechange,oneIhadn’teventhoughttomakemyself.Nowitwasglaringlyobviousthatweshouldhavedoneitagesago.WhatelsewasImissingbecauseI’drefusedtostepaway?
“Thankyou,”ItoldCrystal,makingamentalnotetogiveheraraise.
“Ofcourse.”Shesmiled,herlime-greenlipssplittingwide.
She’dbefineonherowntoday,butmaybeitwastimeIhiredanotherbarista.SomeonetohelpheroutifIwasgone.Apart-timeemployeetoworkweekendsordayslikethis,whenIhadsomewhereelseIwantedtobe.
VanceandIweregoingtothemountainstoday,onthehikeIhadn’tgoneonyesterday.I’dlefthiminmybedearlier,hishairtousledandwildashe’dhuggedawhitepillow.BeforeI’dslippedoutofthebedroom,he’dwokenjustenoughtoaskifIwantedtogoalongonhissearch.
AfterhisconfessionaboutCormaclastnight,sayingyeshadbeeneasy.
Butfirst,I’dneededtoensureCrystalwashappytotakecharge.Morethanhappy,judgingbythesmileonherface.
“Thecutestbrunetteevercameinyesterday,”shesaid.“Weflirtedalittlebit.I’mreallyhopingshecomesbacktoday.”
“Ooh.”Ilaughed.“Ihopeshecomesbacktoo.”
Itwouldn’tbethefirsttimeshe’ddatedamanorawomanshe’dmetattheshop.CrystalwasassweetastheappleturnoversI’djustpulledfromtheoven,andpartofwhyI’dhiredherwasbecauseshewassofriendlyandopen.Butshehadatendencytogossipwithcustomers,soIalwaysmadesurethatiftherewassomethingprivatetodiscuss,Ididitwhereshecouldn’teavesdrop.
“Whatareyougoingtodotoday?”sheaskedasIpulledonmycoat.
“Cleanmyhouse,”Ilied.IadoredCrystal,butmytrystwithVancewouldbealloverQuincyifIletitslip.“Maybegoouttotheranch.We’llsee.”
“Well,don’tworryabouttheshop.”
“Iwon’t.”Iactuallybelievedthattoo.Whatwastheworstthatcouldhappen?Thebuildingburningdown?Onceuponatime,thatwouldhavebeentheendofmyworld.Now…I’dbesad.ButI’dpickmyselfbackup.
JustlikeIhadweeksagoalongtheriverbank.
“I’mgladyou’retakingadayforyourself,”Crystalsaid.
“Metoo.”Withaquickwave,Ilefthertofinishopeningtheshop,duckedoutthebackdoortothealleyanddrovehome.
Vance’struckwasinthedrivewaybutparkedclosertothegaragedoorthanithadbeenwhenI’dleftthismorning.Ieasedintothegarageandwentinside
Inthekitchen,hewasdressedinyesterday’sclothes—apairofthick,canvasCarharttpants,along-sleevedgraythermalandhisusualsoftflannelcoat.ThebeanieI’dbecomeaccustomedtopullingoffhishairwasfixedinplace.
Hewasscrollingthroughhisphoneashesippedcoffeefromapapercupcoveredinablacklid.Thoseweren’ttheto-gocupsfromthehotel,butthegasstation.
Thatcoffeetastedliketar.
“Wedon’tdrinkthatburntsludgeinthishouse,”Isaid.
Vanceglancedup,thosegray-blueeyesdancingashetuckedhisphoneawayandsetthecupaside.“Youleftmenochoicebuttogetthisfromthegasstation.Youweren’topenwhenIdrovetotown.”
“Iwouldhavebroughtyoucoffee.”Iclosedthedistancebetweenus,risinguponmytoes,butIcouldn’tquitereachhislips,soItuggedonhiscollar,pullinghimclosertokissthecornerofhismouth.
Hebentoverme,foldingaroundme,andtuckedhishandsinthebackpocketsofmyjeans,givingmyassaplayfulsqueeze.“Getready.”
Itrailedmylipstotheundersideofhisjaw.“Areweinahurry?”
Hekneadedmycurves,butbeforeIcouldreachforthebuttononhisjeans,hehadhishandsonmyshoulders,spinningmearound.Withaquickswatonthebutt,hesentmetowardmyroom.
“Prude,”Imuttered.
HisdeepchucklefollowedmedownthehallasIhurriedtochangeclothes.
Thebedwasmade,thewhitequiltsmooth.Liketheexteriorofthehouse,mostoftheroomswerepaintedwhiteorcream.Ilikedbrightandopenspaceswithwoodenaccentsanddifferenttexturestoaddwarmth.
Theplethoraofpillowswereneatlyarrangedagainstmybeigetuftedheadboard.He’devendonethekaratechop,creasingthematthetop.Nomaninmylifeknewaboutthekaratechop.
HadVance’sextaughthimtomakethebedlikethat?
Jealousyswirled,butIshoveditaway,duckingintomywalk-inclosettopullonasweaterandwarmersocks.
Vancewasn’tmine.Ihadnoclaimonhisheartorbody.Whilehewashere,thiswasjustsex.Incredible,addictivesex.Andeverynightwe’dsharedabed,eitherhisormine,I’dsleptwithoutanightmare.
Thathadtobeenough.Sexandsleep.
Andtoday,searchingforCormac.
SoIfinishedgettingdressedandcollectedthesamecoat,hatandglovesI’dplannedtowearyesterday.Thenwithawaterbottletuckedinthecrookofmyarm,IfollowedVanceoutsideandclimbedintohissilverDodgetruck.
Thedrivetowardthemountainswasquiet,oddlyreminiscentofthedrivewe’dtakentogethertwoweeksagotowardtheriver.Haditreallyonlybeentwoweeks?ThereweremomentswhenitfeltlikeI’dknownhimforyears.
Inreality,wewerejuststrangers.Lovers,foratime.WouldhegobacktohisexafterheleftMontana?Thatjealousysurgedagain,hardertoshrugoffthistime.
Whenwasheleaving?AfterhefoundCormac?
Whatifwefoundhimtoday?Hisfaceflashedinmymind,causingmyinsidestotwist.HowwasitthatIhadn’tthoughtofthisyet?Todaywasn’tsomeleisurelyhikeinthemountainswithVance.Wewereafterakiller.
Vancestretchedacrossthecabandputhishandonmythigh.“Lyla.”
“Yeah?”
Histhumbstrokedmykneecap.
Mykneeswerebouncing.Ihadn’tevennoticed.
“I’mokay.”
“Youcandothis.”He’dsaidthesamethingweeksago.
“Icandothis.”
Vancekepthishandonmyknee,afirmyetsoftgrip,untilheneededbothhandstoturnintothegravellotwherewe’dbeleavinghistruck.
ThemomentIsteppedoutsideandbreathedinthecool,mountainair,abitofmynerveseased.Theseweremymountains.Thiswasmyhome.CormacGallagherdidn’tgettostealthatfromme.
Vancestowedmywaterbottleinhispack,strappingittobothshoulders,then,withoutaword,startedforthetrail.
Ifellinstepbehindhimaswetraversedthepathforaboutamile.
“Haveyoubeenherebefore?”Vance’squestionstartledme,andInearlytrippedoverarock.
We’dbeenwalkingsoquietly,I’dassumeditwasbecausehewantedtokeepsomelevelofstealth.Buthespokeinhisnormalvoice,hisbootsteppingonabranchthatsnappedunderhisweight.
“Yes,”Iwhispered.“Butnotinages.”
Heglancedback.“Cormacisn’tanywherearoundhere.”
“Howdoyouknow?”Thetreesborderingthepathwerethick.Somehadtobeoverahundredyearsold,theirtrunkswideenoughtohideaman.
“Hewon’tcomenearanestablishedtrail.”
“Oh.”Myforeheadfurrowed.“Thenwhyarewesearchingonatrail?”
Vancestopped,shiftingtoslideonestrapofhispackoffashoulder.Heunzippedthelargestpocket,pullingoutamap.Withpracticedease,heunfoldedandrefoldedittoshowmeasection.Partofitwasmarkedoutwithaseriesofred,parallellines.
“Thisiswhereweparked.”Hepointedtothemap,hisfingertrailingalongthepaperashespoke.“Thisisthetrailhead.Yesterday,Ihikedaroundthisarea.”
Theareashadedwiththeredlines.
“Today,we’llhikethroughhere.”Vancedrewanimaginarycircleonthemap,directlyabovewherehe’dbeenyesterday.“Quickestwaythereisthetrailhead.Oncewemakeitupanothermile,we’llveeroffthepath.”
“Ah,okay.”Itwasimpressivethathewassocomfortableinthewilderness.Andattractive.Hewasarugged,mountain-manfantasycometolife.“Sooncewegetoffthetrail,whatarewelookingfor?”
Vanceshrugged,returningthemaptohispack.“Anything.”
Withitsecure,hekeptwalking,hisstrideseasy,probablysoIcouldkeepup.Nowayhe’dsearchedalloftheareahehadyesterdayatthisslowofapace
“I’mlookingforwhatdoesn’tbelong,”hesaid.
“Likeafootprint?”Iturned,inspectingthepathbehindus.Insomeofthesoftspots,theindentfromhisboothadimprintedtheearth.“It’smuddy.That’sprobablyagoodthing,right?”
“Goodandbad,”hesaid.“Afootprintwouldatleastbeasignsomeonewasinthearea.MaybefromCormac.Maybenot.Chancesare,I’dbechasingsomeoneelse.Cormacwouldsticktotheheavilyforestedareas,wheretheneedlesoffergoodcushionandcamouflageontheground.”
“Interesting.”I’dspentmostofmyyouthexploringtheranch.Hikingasateen.Horsebackridingwithmyparentsandsiblings.NotoncehadIthoughtaboutthetracesI’dleftbehind.Orhowtomaskthem.
Wecontinuedalongthetrail,walkinginsilenceastheterrainsteepened.WhenVancestopped,diggingoutmywater,sweatwasbeadingatmytemplesbeneathmyhat.
Meanwhile,hebarelylookedwinded.Wasthishowhekeptthatmagnificentbodyinshape?Howhehadsuchstaminatoplaywithmineforhoursandhourseachnight?Hoorayforhiking.
“Let’stakeabreak.”Hewalkedtoafallentree,usinghisboottokickoffapieceofdecayingbark.Beneathit,thewoodwassmoothandtan.
“Icankeepgoing.”
“Sit,”heordered.“Ineedyoutosavesomeenergyforlater.”
“Why?What’slater?”Iturnedinacircle.Arockcliffloomedinthedistance.Weweren’tclimbingthattoday,werewe?
“Later,I’mfuckingyouonthatfancycouchinyourlivingroom.”
“Oh.”Myfaceflamed.“Later.”
Vancewinked.Itwassoplayfullysexymyhearttumbled,soItookmyseat,catchingmybreathasheleanedagainstaneighboringtreetrunk.
“Hungry?”heasked.
Iliftedashoulder.
Herifledthroughhispack,takingouttwogranolabars,tossingonetomebeforehetoreatthewrapperofhisown.Hedidn’twolfitdownorseemtobeinanyhurrytomovealong.
Todaywasn’treallyaboutthesearch,wasit?
Today,hewashumoringme.BringingmeoutherebecausemaybeheknewIneededabreakfromthecoffeeshop.OrmaybeheknewIneededmoredaysinthesemountainstoreclaimthemformyself.
“HowlongwereyouandCormacpartners?”Iasked.
“Sevenyears.”ThelightnessinVance’seyesfaded.
“Wedon’thavetotalkabouthim.”
“No,it’sallright.”Hestaredintotheforest,hisgazelosingfocus.“Ihaven’ttalkedabouthiminalongtime.Kindofmadeitapointnotto.”
“Wereallydon’tneedto.”
Heballeduphisnow-emptywrapperandleaneddeeperintothetree.“Aftertheacademy,Ispentacoupleyearsasadeputydoingfairlyroutinework.Mostlyputtingmytimein,provingmyself.ImetCormacatadepartmentholidayparty.Wegottotalking,andItoldhimIwasinterestedinworkingforthebackcountryunit.Hetookmeouthikingthenextweek.Snowtoourwaists.Coldashell.Hepushedmetotheextreme,butIkeptpacewithhimtothesummit.Viewsfordays.Worththework.”
Hisvoicequietedashespoke,almostlikehewastiptoeingaroundthosememories,carefulnottodisturbthem.
“Ididn’trealizeuntilwegotbacktotownitwasatest,”hesaid.“Cormacpulledsomestrings,andbythatsummer,I’dbeentransferred.Hebecamemymentor.Partner.Friend.”
UntilCormachadsnappedandmurderedhisfamily.
“Ispentalotoftimewithhimandhisfamily,”Vancesaid.“Itoldyouhewasthecoachforhisdaughter’ssoftballteam?”
“Yeah.”
“Iwastheassistantcoach.Itaughthistwinshowtowhittlewoodenspoons.WhenCormacwasworking,I’dshuttlehisoldesttoswimteampractice.ThosegirlsweretheclosestthingtomyowndaughtersasI’veeverhad.”
Andhe’dlostthem.Myheartcracked.“I’msorry.”
“Hewasagooddad.”Vanceshookhishead,hiseyebrowscomingtogether.“Hewasagreatdad.Helovedthosegirls.”
Thenwhy?Whyhadhekilledthem?Unless…
“Doyouthinkhereallydidit?”Ihatedevenaskingthatquestion.AfterwhatCormachaddonetome,Ihadnotroublethinkingofhimasamurderer.ButthedoubtwrittenonVance’sfacecreptintomymind.
“Inmyhead”—hetappedhistemple—“hekilledthem.HestrangledNorah.”
Norah.Aprettyname.Ipitiedheralreadyforthewayshe’ddied.Ihoped,forhersake,thatshehadn’tknownthathe’dkilledtheirchildren.
“There’snoquestion,”Vancecontinued.“I’vegonethroughtheevidencecountlesstimes.ItallpointstoCormac.Andthefactthatheran.”
“Innocentmendon’trun.”
“No,theydon’t.”Hesighed.“Inmyhead,allthepiecesfit.Butinmyheart,Ican’tmakesenseofit.”
BecausetoVance,Cormachadbeenafriendandmentortoo.Notacold-bloodedkiller.“That’swhyyouneedtofindhim.Youwantanswers.”
Vancewentquietagain,hisgazerovingthenearbytrees.“StartingtothinkImightnotgetthem.”
“Ihopeyoudo.”
“SodoI,”hemurmured,swallowinghard.
Istoodfrommyseat,brushingofftheseatofmyjeans.ThenIhandedVancemybottletoputinhisbackpackwithmyowngranolabarwrapper.“Okay,we’relookingforfootprintsbutwe’renotlookingforfootprints.Whatelse?”
“Cormacwasouthuntingwhenyoufoundhim.Notforsport,butfood.Whichmeansheprobablyhasashelterinthearea.Ifoundnosignsofhimaroundtheriver,sohe’sprobablybeencarefultohuntfarawayfromwherehe’scamped.”
“Thenwhydidhecometotheriverthatday?”Thatplacewasn’tclosetotheroad,butitwasn’texactlysecludedeither.
“Huntingseason.Maybehethoughthe’dblendinasjustanotherbowhunter.Maybehewastrackingtheelkandthat’swheresheledhim.”
Iguesswhenyoulivedoffthewildernessforfood,youtooktheopportunitiesgiven.“Howmuchdistancewouldheputbetweenhiscampandwherehewashunting?”
Vanceshrugged.“Tenmiles?Twenty?Maybemore.”
“Twentymiles?”Amentalcircleextendedinmyhead,itsedgestretchingfartherandfartherintotheforest.Twentymilesonasmooth,flathighwaywouldtakeatleastfivehourstowalk.Butthroughthesewoods?Days.
Themagnitudeofthissearch,theimprobabilityofitbeingsuccessful,rolledovermelikethedensefogclingingtothejaggedmountainpeaks.
Wasthishopeless?
Likehe’dpluckedthequestionfrommythoughts,Vancereachedout,hispalmcuppingmycheek.Inthatcleargaze,Isawthetruthhe’dbeenhidingforweeks.
Thiswashopeless,wasn’tit?Yethewasstillhere,combingthroughthisforestdayinanddayout.
Hehadn’tgivenup,notyet.SoneitherwouldI.
“Whatelsedoyoulookfor?”
“Animalsnares.”Histhumbstrokedmyskinbeforehedroppedhishandandadjustedhisbackpack.“Treestumpsthatlooklikethey’vebeencutdown,notbroken.Andhe’dstayrelativelyclosetoawatersupply.”
“Butnottheriver?”
“Probablynot.Thereareplentyofmountainstreamsaround.He’lluseoneofthemashissourceinstead.”
Astream.Or…awaterfall.
Ispuninaslowcircle,tryingtogetmybearings.“Therearetwowaterfallsoffthistrailhead.”
“Two?”Vanceasked.“Accordingtothelocalguidebooks,there’sonlyone.Areyousure?”
“Positive.Thistrailleadstothemainone.”Hencethereasontherewasevenatrailtobeginwithandaparkinglotatthebase.“Butthere’sanotherwaterfallupheretoo.There’sjustnotrailleadingtoit.Idon’tknowhowfarwe’vewalkedandit’sbeenforeversinceIcameupthisway.ButIwanttosayfivemiles,maybe?IthinkI’llrecognizethewaytogetthere?Fingerscrossed.”
“Allright.Leadtheway.”
“PromisenottobemadatmeifIgetuslost?”
Hesteppedcloseandbrushedakissagainstmyforehead.“Yougetuslost.I’llgetusfound.”CHAPTERTWELVEVANCE
“Howdoyouknowaboutthiswaterfall?”IaskedLylaassheweavedapaththroughthetrees.
“Icameuphereacoupletimesinhighschool.”Sheslowed,lookingtoherleft,thenright,beforecontinuingstraight.
Fromhowoftenshestoppedtospininaslowcircle,Iwasfairlycertainshewaslost.ButIhadagoodideaofwherewewere—countlesshoursstudyinglocalmapshadbeentimewellspent.
Ifshegotturnedaround,I’dbeabletofindourwaybacktothetruck.SoIletherkeepgoing,mygazealternatingbetweentheforestandhersweet,deliciousass.
I’dbeenfightingahard-oneversinceshe’dtakenthelead.NotexactlywhatIshouldbefocusedontoday.ButLylaneededthishike.Shehadn’tsaidanything,Ijusthadahunch.
TodaywasmoreabouthergettingapieceofherselfbackthantrackingCormac
Moretimewellspent.
“Ihadthisboyfriendmyjunioryearwholovedtohike.Hewasayearolderandspentalotoftimehikinginthesemountains.Hefoundthiswaterfallandbroughtmealong.”Sheglancedoverhershoulder,ashysmileonhermouthasshedramaticallypressedherhandtoherheart.“Ithoughtitwassoromantic,himdiscoveringthiswaterfalljustforme.”
Sothiswasahookupspot.Aspearofjealousyshotthroughmychest,inonesideandouttheother.
Lylafacedforwardbeforeshecouldseemyjawclench.
Forfuck’ssake.
Jealousofahighschoolboyfriend.Whatthehellwashappeningtome?Icouldn’trememberthelasttimeI’dbeenjealous.NoneofTiff’spastlovershadirritatedme.Hell,sheworkedwithanex,andIhadn’tcared—maybethey’dgetbacktogethernow.Goodforthem.
SowhydidjustthementionofLyla’sformerflamemakemewanttopunchatree?
Therewasnoreasontogetjealous.Noreasontogetattached.Thiswouldendsoon.
WitheithermefindingCormac.Ormeleavingempty-handed.
Untilthen,Lylawasalovelydistraction,abalmoverawoundIdoubtedwouldeverheal.AwomanwhoneededanescapeasmuchasIneededtoforget.Shewasamiracle,really.
Whenshewasinbedwithme,I’devenmanagedafewdecentnightsofsleep.
Thismorning,ithadbeenalltooeasytodriftbacktosleepaftershe’dleftforEdenCoffee,herscentlingeringonthepillows.
WhenwasthelasttimeI’dsleptpastfive?Years.Four,tobeexact.Backwhentheworldmadesense,beforeeverythinggotsofuckedup,Iusedtolovesleepingin.
Thatwasbeforethedeadhauntedmeinmydreams.
“WhatelsehappenedwithWinnyesterday?”Lyla’squestionsnappedmeoutofmyhead.
“WhatItoldyoulastnight.ShebasicallysaidthatIfuckedupbycominghereandnotmakingherstationmyfirststop.”
Lylashotmeanexaggeratedfrownoverhershoulder.“Ouch.”
“She’snotwrong.Ibrokeprotocol.Shehadarighttobepissed.”
“Butyou’restillhere.”
“I’mstillhere.”Foranotherday.Anotherweek.Maybeanothermonth.
LylahadonlyaskedoncehowlongI’dbeinQuincy.Ihadn’tansweredbecauseIwasn’tsure.I’dstayaslongaspossible,nothingmore.
“Winn’sagoodcop,”Isaid.“She’llfollowtherules.She’sagoodsister-in-lawtoo.Herhandsaretied,minearen’t.SoIgettokeepsearchingwiththeunderstandingthatifIfuckupthisinvestigation,she’llcastrateme.”
Lyla’sgigglefilledtheair.God,thatsound.Ihadn’theardherlaughenoughwhileI’dbeeninQuincy.
“IreadaboutwhatWinnhasdoneaschiefinthenewspaper,”Isaid.
Lylastopped,turningtofaceme.“Didyoureadabouttheshooting?”
“Idid.I’msorry.Thathadtobehardonyourfamily.”
“Itwas,especiallyEloise.Winntoo.Iworryaboutherafterwhatshehadtodo.”Lyla’sshouldersslumped.“Haveyoueverhadtoshootsomeone?”
“Twice.”
“Didtheydie?”
“Once.”
Lyla’seyeslockedwithmine,thesympathyinthemsodeepitmademychestfeeltootight.Sheclosedthedistancebetweenus,herhandsplayingacrossmyheart.“I’msorry.”
“Metoo.”Icuppedhercheek,mythumbtracingthesmoothlineofhercheekbone.
Strange,butIhadn’tthoughtaboutthattimeinawhile.Iusedtoreplayitdaily.
Yearsago,ahunterhadcalledinatipthathe’dstumbledacrossamethhouseinthemountains.I’donlybeenworkingwithCormacforaboutayear,andinthosedays,we’ddoneeverythingtogether.Truepartners.Friends.Sothetwoofushadgonescoutingtoseeifwecouldfindthecabin.Theplanhadjustbeentoscopeitout,thencallinforthelocaldrugtaskforcetotakeitdown.
We’dfoundtheplaceeasilyenough.Ithadbeenashittyoldhut,milesfromanyroadorhouse.We’dstoppedaboutfiftyyardsaway,closeenoughforCormactopinpointtheplaceonGPSandtakesomephotos.
He’djustdughisphonefromapocketwhenwe’dheardabranchsnap.Theneverythinghadhappenedinslowmotion.
Theguywho’dlivedinthatcabinhadbeenoutinthewoods,doingwhateveritwasthatmethaddictsdo.He’dseenusapproachandhadplannedonkillingustokeephishideawayasecret.Atleast,thatwaswhatIassumed.
Hadhenotsteppedonabranch,I’dprobablybedead.Instead,thathadgivenmeenoughwarningtodrawmygunandshoothimfourtimesinthechest.
Cormachadbeencloser.Hewouldhavegottenhitfirst.ButI’dsavedhislife.
Maybethatwaswhereithadallgonewrong.HadIknownwhatwouldhappen,maybeIwouldhaveletthataddictkillusboth.
“Vance.”Lyla’svoicepulledmefromthememory.Sheleanedhercheekintomypalm.
IclearedmythroatasIdroppedmyhand.“Winnseemssolid.Idon’tthinkyouhavecausetoworry,butyoushouldjustaskherifshe’sokay.Chancesare,she’llsayyes.Whethershemeansitornot.Butjustkeepasking.”
“Isthatwhatsomeonedidforyou?Keptaskingifyouwereokay?”
“Yes.”
“Who?Yourfamily?”
No,notmyfamily.
Cormac.
Andthatwashowhe’dbecomemyfamily.
ButLylawouldn’twantthatanswer.ItmadeCormactoolikable.Toogood.SoIdidwhatIdidbest—changedthedamnsubject.
“Winnknowsthatwe’resleepingtogether,doesn’tshe?”
Lylablinked,takenoffguardforamoment.Butinourshorttimetogether,she’dalreadypickedupthatwhenIwasdonewithatopic,Iwasdone.Soshenodded.“Yes,butIaskedhertokeepitbetweenus.”
Asecret.Thathadbeenmyidea.SowhydidIhateitsomuch?
“I’veneverkeptamansecretbefore,”Lylasaid.“It’sstrange.”
“I’mnotaskingyoutokeepasecret.”
“You’releaving.Iknowthestakeshere.”
Thestakes.Thefuckingstakes.Yeah,Iknewthemtoo.
“Iwon’tlietomyfamily.Honestly,someonewillfigureitoutanyway.I’msurprisedtheyhaven’tyet.”
“Whydoyousaythat?”
“Ihavethishabitofwearingmyfeelingslikejewelry,brightandsparklyfortheworldtosee.Itrustpeoplejustbecausepeoplecantrustme.That’showIwasraised.That’swhoIam.Lately,Ijust…”Shelethergazeslideaway,unfocusedpastmyshoulder.“Don’tfeellikemyself.”
Ofcourseshewouldn’tfeellikeherself.
“Hey.”Ihookedmyfingerbeneathherchin,tiltingitupuntilhereyescamebacktomine.“Areyouokay?”
Tearsfilledhereyes.“Notreally.”
Myheartsqueezed.FuckingCormac.Thiswasonhim.Thesetearswereonhim.“WhatcanIdo?”
Shesniffled,reachinguptodabthecornerofhereyes.“Helpmefindthiswaterfall.”
Ifawaterfallwaswhatsheneeded,thenawaterfallwaswhatwe’dfind.
Itookherbytheshoulders,turningheraround.ThenIsmackedherass.Hard.“Leadtheway,Blue.”
Itdidn’tearnmealaugh,butI’dkeeptryingtomakehersmile.
Wehikedforanotherhour,mostlyinsilence.ButwhateverheavinessweighedonLylaseemedtofadewhileherfrustrationmounted.
ShestoppedwalkingsoquicklythatInearlyplowedherover.
“What?”Iasked.
Shehuffedandtossedupherhands.“I’mlost.”
Wasshe?Therewasafaintnoiseinthedistance.I’dhearditforthepastfewminutes,justassumingshehadtoo.
“Shh,”Isaid.
Shetensed.“Why?”
“Listen.”
“Towhat?”
Thiswoman.Iclampedmyhandoverhermouth,earningagrowl.Thenwithmyfreehand,Ipulledoffherbeaniesoshehadnothingoverherears.
Themomentsheheardit,hergazetippedupoverhershouldertomeetmine.Thoseblueeyeslituplikestars.
Water.
Sheracedtowardthesound,leapingoverafallenlogasshejogged.
Ichuckled,shakingmyheadasIhurriedtocatchup.
Notahundredfeetaway,pastaclusterofbushes,theforestfloorgavewaytowet,blackrocks,somespottedwithmoss.Astreamtrickledfromasmallpoolfedfromagentlewaterfall.
Thecurrentwasslow.Thecoldweatherwasmovingfartherandfartherdownthemountains,andsoon,thiswouldbefrozen.Thewaterfallitselfwasonlyfourorfivefeettall,butitwasenoughtofilltheairwithasteadyrushofnoise
Lylamadeherwayalongtheslickrocks,herarmsheldoutwideandreadytocatchherselfifherfootslipped.
Istayedback,watchingasshenavigatedherway,inchbyinch,aroundthepool’sperimeter.Thenwhenshewascloseenough,shetookoffaglove,stretchedoutahandandletitdisappearintothewaterfall.
Therewasthesmile.Whiteandwide,illuminatingherwholeface.
Fuck,butshewasgorgeous.Icouldn’ttearmyeyesaway,noteveninaplacelikethis,wherenaturewasshowingoff.Thecool,clearwater.Thevividgreenforest.Itwasabeautifulplace,worthyofpaintingsorphotographs.
ButIcouldn’ttakemyeyesoffLyla.
Shemovedherfingersinandoutofthewater,lettingitdanceacrossherknuckles.Thensheyankeditfree,probablywhenthecoldgottobetoomuch,andafterdryingherhandonherjeans,shehurriedtoputherglovebackon.Ascarefullyasshe’dmovedtothewater,shewalkedaway.
“Ifoundit.”Hersmilewasbreathtakingasshestoppedbymyside.
“Youfoundit.”
Thesmilevanished.Lyla’seyesfloodedagain,andlikebefore,shedabbedatthecorners,stoppinganytearsbeforetheycouldfall.
“Youokay?”I’dkeepaskingthatquestion.WhileIwashere,I’daskeveryday.
Shelookedaround,hergazeleavingnothinguntouched.“Beingherefeelsalmostlikesteppingintoadifferentlifetime.AndIfeellikeanentirelydifferentpersonthanthegirlIwaswhenIcamehereallthoseyearsago.”
Icouldn’tevenrememberwhoI’dbeenatthatage.Toomuchhadhappened.Toomuchhadchanged.
“I’mgladwecamehere,”shewhispered.
“But…”
Shesighed.“Butit’sahardtruthtofacethatthelifeyou’reliving,thelifeyoubuiltdayafterdayafterdaybecauseofthedreamsyouhadwhenyouwereyoung,mightnotbethelifeyouwant.Inaway,itfeelslikethegirlwhocameheresolongagogotitwrong.”
“Didshe?”
Lylashrugged.“Idon’tknow.Maybe.Partially.She’dprobablyarguewithme.ImisstheconfidenceIhad.Imissthefaiththatitwouldalljust…workout.”
Thementalpictureofseventeen-year-oldLylawasclearasday.Brightblueeyes,fullofdreams.
I’dknownanotherseventeen-year-oldgirljustlikethatonce.
“I’mthirty,”Lylasaid.“Somewherealongtheway,Ilostthatgirl.You’regoodatfindingpeople,right?MaybeafteryoucatchCormac,youcouldteachmeyourtricks.”
Isteppedcloser,soclosethatnotevenabreathofwindcouldcomebetweenus.ThenIlaidmyhandonthecenterofherchest.“Youdon’tneedmetofindher.She’srighthere.Whereshe’salwaysbeen.”
Lyla’seyessearchedminelikeshecouldn’tquitebelieveme.Thenshefellforward,intomyarms,buryingherfaceinmychest.“Thanks.”
“Welcome.”Idroppedakisstoherhair,thenlethergo.
Shetookafewstepsaway,turningtofacethewaterfallagain.
Thiswasmychancetomemorizethishiddenparadise.Tosoakitallin.Butagain,allIcoulddowaslookatLyla.
Weweretwosidestothesamecoin.Twopeopletryingtofindtheirwaybacktocenter.
Maybeitwastoolateformetogoback.ButforLyla,Iwantedhertofindaglimpseofthatseventeen-year-oldgirl.Tofindthespark.
“We’dbettergetgoing,”Isaid.“Idon’twanttogetstuckouthereinthedark.”
“NeitherdoI.AndI’mstarving.”
“Wantanothergranolabar?”
Sheheldupahand,stoppingmefromdiggingonefrommybackpack.“We’regettingcheeseburgers.Doublecheeseburgers.”
Ichuckled.“Doublecheeseburgers.Withfries.”
“Obviously.”Shesmiled,andwhenIofferedherahand,sheheldittight,lettingmeguideherdowntheslipperyrocksandbacktotheforestfloor.
“We’llfollowthestreamdownforabit,”Itoldher.“I’mguessingthatwillbefaster.Thenwe’llworkourwaybacktowardthetrail.”
“Okay,”shesaid,stayingcloseaswehiked.
Itwasalwaysharderonthetripback,yourmusclesstrainingtokeepbalancewithgravityworkingagainstyou.Icutmynormalstrideinhalf,makingsureshedidn’tfeelrushed.
Besideus,thestreamtrickled,growingwider,deeperthefartherweworkeddownthemountain.
Itwasn’tariver,notsomethingyou’dfindonamap.ButitwaslargerthanI’dexpectedtofindtoday.Maybeagoodplaceformetostarttomorrow.
Iwasabouttochangecourse,headtowardthetreesandhikeuntilwereachedthepaththatwouldtakeustothetrailhead,whenayelpechoedbehindme.IspunjustintimetoseeLyla’sfeetsweepintotheair.
Andherlandinthedirtwithathud.
“Lyla,”Igasped,rushingtohersideandcrouchingdown,myhandsroamingoverherbody,searchingforinjury.“Areyouhurt?”
“Ouch.No.I’mfine.”Shetippedherheadtothesky,drawinginalongbreath,thensurveyedthedamage.“Shit.”
Onesideofherjeanswascoatedinthemudshe’dslippedon.
Shewipedatitbuttheonlywaythatwascomingoutwasinthewash.“Ihatemud.”
“I’vegotablanketinthetruck.We’llgetbackandpeelyououtofthosewetjeans.”
“Why,Mr.Sutter.”Lylaflutteredherlashes.“Areyouflirtingwithme?”
Ichuckled,myheartsinkingbackdownmythroat.
Itfeltgoodtolaugh,andLylahadawayofcoaxingitfree.I’dlaughedmoreinQuincythanIhadin,well…fouryears.
Istood,offeringherahandtohelphertoherfeet.“Comeon.”
Whenshewasstanding,Lylatwistedtoinspecttheseatofherjeans—alsocoatedinmud—thenletoutastringofcursesthatwouldmakemostguysontheforceblush.Whenshelookedtomyface,shecockedherheadtotheside.“What?”
ExceptIwasn’tlookingather.
Iwasstaringatthestream,justoverhershoulder.
“Vance?”Shefollowedmygazetothewater.“What?Whatarewelookingat?”
“Stayhere.”Ipassedher,takingslow,deliberatestepstowardthewater.Imadesureeverystepwasonarocksomyfootprintswouldn’tshow.ThenIdroppedtomyhaunches,peeringthroughtheclearstream.
Andthere,initscenter,wasawovenconeofwillowbranches.
Afishtrap.
“Fuckme.”Ilookedaround,scanningthetrees.Mypulsethuddedinmyears
Notafishtrapanyonewouldbuy,butonemade.
“Vance?”Lyla’svoicewobbled.
“Don’tmove,Blue.”
“Isitabear?”
“Youseethat?”Ipointedtothewater.“It’safishtrap.”
Theouterconehadawideendthattaperedtoasmallerhole.Atthewideopening,anotherconefitinside,shorter,withthesamesmallerhole.Fishcouldswiminsidethecone—Icouldn’ttelliftherewasbaitinsidewithoutpullingitfromthewater—andoncetheywereinthecone,they’dgettrapped,unabletofindtheirwayoutofthesmallerholes.
Itwasemptyatthemoment.Eitherbecausethereweren’tanyfishinthisstream,orbecausesomeonehadstoppedbyrecentlytoputitinplace.
“Sonofabitch,”Imuttered,thenstoodandsteppedaway,takingasmuchcareasIhadearliertosteponlyonrocksasImademywaytoLyla.
Therewerefootprintseverywherearoundwhereshe’dslipped.Damn
“DoyouthinkCormacmadethattrap?”Lylaasked.
“Maybe.”Iturned,lookingupthemountainfromwherewe’dcome.
Partofmedidn’twanttohope.Theotherpartdidn’twanttoevenconsiderthiscouldbepossible.
Butthattrap…
IthadCormac’snamewrittenalloverit.Wheneverwe’dgocamping,he’dspendanightbythefire,weavingbranchesandreedstogetherforfunwhilethegirlswouldroastmarshmallowsandmakes’mores.
Maybehehadmadethistrap.Maybehehadn’tlefttheareayet.
MaybeI’dfindthatbastardafterall.CHAPTERTHIRTEENLYLA
MyheartseizedasVancewalkedintothecoffeeshop,hisfaceunreadable.
“Hi,”Ibreathedwhenhereachedthecounter.
“Hey.”He’dspentthepasttwodaysinthemountains,searchingforsignsofwhoeverhadmadethatfishtrap.
AsmuchasI’dwantedtogowithhim,CrystalwasoffandIneededtobeattheshop.That,andI’donlyslowVancedown.
Exceptleftbehind,I’dhadnothingtodobutworryandwait.Today,I’dbeensorattledthatI’ddroppedacoffeemug.Theshatteredceramicremainswerenowinthetrashcanbesidemyfeet.Butonelostcupwasbetterthanmymishapyesterday—anentiredoublebatchofcookiedoughhadgonesplatonthekitchenfloorwhenI’dbeensodistractedthatI’dknockedovermymixingbowl.
“Areyouhungry?”IttookeverythinginmypowernottoaskhimthequestionIwasdyingtovoice.
DidyoufindCormac?
Iguesshimbeingherewasanswerenough.IfVancehadfoundCormac,he’dlikelybeatthepolicestation.Orpossiblypackinghishotelroom.
“Yes,”hesaid.“Ipushedhardtoday.Scarfedagranolabaronthedrivebacktotown,butifyouhadasandwichorsomething,thatwouldbegreat.”
“I’llbringitover.”Inodded,alreadygoingtoworkonaplate.
Vanceheadedtowardthewindow,takinghisusualseat.Hehadn’tbroughtinhisbackpacktoday.Wasthatagoodthing?
Hepulledoffhisbeanie,hishairdisheveled,muchlikeithadbeenthismorningwhenI’dlefthiminmybedtocometoworkatfour.
Iusuallychasedafterguyswhostyledtheirhairwithcombs,notfingers.I’dnever,everbeabletolookatanice,clean-cutmanagainwithoutwishinghehadVance’smessyhair.
Thickandsoft,nothinghadeverfeltbetterthreadedinmygrip.
Howmanydays,howmanynights,didwehaveleft?
Twodaysandeverythinghadchanged.Itwaslikewe’dstartedthis,whateverthiswas,ataslow,unhurriedpace.Likethewaymydaddrovethroughpasturesattheranch,slowenoughtofeeleachbumpinthedirtlanes.
Nowthepedalwastothefloorandweweredrivingahundredmilesperhour,headedstraightforabrickwall.
Theendwascoming.
Witheverypassingday,VancewasonestepclosertoleavingQuincy.
When?
IwantedhimtofindCormac.Morethananything,IwantedVancetogethisanswers.Togainclosure.Toputhisdemonstorest.Atthesametime…
Ididn’twanthimtofindCormac.
Howridiculouswasthat?Thatassholewasacriminal.He’dturnedmeinsideoutanddeservedtospendtherestofhisliferottinginprison,notjustforwhathe’ddonetomebuttohisfamily.
VancehadtofindCormac.
Butwhenthismesswasover,VancewouldreturntoIdaho.Andme?
MaybeI’dgobacktonormal.
Normalsounded…horrible.
IpouredVanceacupofsteamingcoffee,takingitandaturkeysandwichtohistable.“Hereyougo.”
“Thanks.”Hissmilewasweak.Weary.
Morethananything,Iwantedtoslideintohislap,wrapmyarmsaroundthosebroadshouldersandburymynoseinthecrookofhisneck.
Thatwouldhavetowaituntiltonightwhenweweresafebehindmycloseddoors.
Thereweren’tmanycustomersintheshopatthemoment,butEmilyNelsenwasacrosstheroomandfivetablesaway.
ShewasareporterattheQuincyGazette,thelocalnewspaperownedbyherparents.EmilyandIhadgraduatedhighschooltogether,andbesidesafewincidentsofminorteen-girldrama,we’dmostlygottenalong.
SheusedtocomeinandkissmyassbecauseofhercrushonGriffin.Butsincehe’dmarriedWinn,theass-kissinghadstopped.Nowshecameintotheshopbecauseshelovedgossip.AndEdenCoffeewasoneofherregularstopsforfodder.
Emily’sblondhairwaspulledup,revealingthewhiteearbudsshe’dputinearlierwhenshe’dstartedworkingonherlaptop.Maybeshewaslisteningtomusicorapodcast.Maybeitwasarusetomakepeoplethinkshewasn’teavesdropping.
SoIstayedonmyfeet.IfEmilywaswatching,Iwassimplymakingnicewithacustomer.
“How’ditgotoday?”Iasked,keepingmyvoicelow.
“Nothing.”Hefrowned,thentookabiteofhissandwich,hisstrongjawflexingashechewed.Whenheswallowed,hisshoulderssagged,likehisbodywasfinallyrelaxingnowthathewasgivingitsomedecentfood.
“Doyouthinkhesawourfootprints?”
“Maybe,”hemurmured.
We’ddoneourbesttoconcealthem,takingafewbranchestoscratchthemfromthemudanddirt.Vancehadhopedthatwiththefallrainwe’dbeengettingeachnight,ourtrackswouldwashaway.Buttherewasnoguarantee.
“Ormaybeit’snothim.”Vancesighed.
“It’shim.”Ithadtobehim.
“Isetupafewgamecamerastodayinthearea.Oneisaimedrightatthestream.”
“Smart.”
“We’llsee.”Hisvoicewassoflat.Twodaysago,he’dbeenkeyedupafterfindingthattrap.ButtherollercoasterthatwasCormacGallagherwasnowatthebottomofthetrack,alongwithVance’sspirits.
Upanddown.Downandup.
Heateanotherbiteofhissandwich,doingwhatVancedidwhenthetopicwasgettingtooheavy.Hechangedthesubject.“Thisisreallygood.”
“Thankyou.”
Hewinked,forcingahalfsmile.“How’syourdaygoing?”
“Otherthanthebrokenmuginthetrashcan,it’sbeenfine.”
“Youokay?”
“Areyou?”
“Iaskedyoufirst,Blue.”
“I’mokay.”Inodded,andtoday,itwasthetruth.Iwasmoreworriedabouthimthanmyself.AndmaybewhatI’dneededallalongwastotalk.Toletitout.He’dgivenmethatoutletatthewaterfall.
Nooneknewthosefeelings.Notmyparents.Notmysiblings.
ButtherewassomethingaboutVancethathadmademeconfessitall.Maybebecauseitseemedlikehe’dunderstand.
“Willyoukeepsearching?”Iasked.“Orjustrelyonthegamecameras?”
“I’llkeepgoing.”Hiscoatwashungonthebackofhischair.Hereachedintoaninteriorpocket,takingoutthesamemaphe’dshownmewhilewe’dbeenhiking.Itwasfoldeddifferentlynow,reducedtotheareaaroundthatstream.“Untilitsnows.”
What?Myheartdroppedtothefloor.Untilitsnowed.Thatwasit?
Itcouldsnowanydaynow.MyeyesshottothewindowsandtheskyaboveMain.Thelateafternoonlighthadmostlyfadedasthedaysgotshorterandshorter.
Theskywasclearforachange.TheraincloudshadblownawaywhileVancehadbeenhiking.Thestarswouldputonashowtonight,butthisreprievewouldn’tlast.Especiallyinthemountains.
Snowwascoming.
Iwasn’treadytolethimgo.Notyet.
“Whythesnow?”Iasked,hopinghecouldn’thearthesadnessinmyvoice.
“Justtoohardtohidetracks.”
“Right.”Ofcourse.Likethemud,anytrackswouldhelpfindCormac.Butthey’dalsoalertCormactosomeoneinthearea.
Whatiftherewasanotherway?“Mybrother,Mateo,isapilot.Ifitsnows,wouldn’tCormacneedafireorsomethingtostaywarm?Whatifyousearchedbyplaneinstead?”
“Maybe.Thoughthatcouldspookhim.”
“ButI’msurewhereverhe’sbeenhiding,he’sheardplanesflyaround.”
Vancehummed.“I’llthinkaboutit.”
Ifhewasanythinglikemyfather,I’llthinkaboutitmeantno
Thebelldingedbehindme,thedooropening,andwithit,agustofcoldairsweptinside.
Momwalkedin,hercheeksflushedandsmilebright.“Hi.”
“Hey,Mom.”
“How’sitgoing?”Shewalkedover,pullingmeintoahug.“Iwasjustcomingtosayhiandseeifyouneededanextrasetofhandsinthekitchen.Ifeellikebakingbutyourfathertoldmethathewantedtolosefivepounds,soIwasn’tallowedtomakeapie.Igiveitaweek.”
Ilaughed.“Metoo.”
“So…needfreelabor?”
“Sure.”IglancedatVance.
HenoddedtoMom,asilenthelloashechewedmoreofthatsandwich.
“Hi,”Momsaid,lookingbetweenthetwoofus.“Oh,sorry.AmIinterrupting?”
“No,it’sfine.Wewerejustchatting.”IlookedatVance.“I’llletyoueat.”
Henoddedagain,andasIheadedforthecounter,Momatmyside,Ifelthiseyesonme.
“Honey.”Momleanedinclosetowhisper.“Whoisthat?”
“Justacustomer.”
Shescoffed.“AndI’mtwenty-nineyearsold.”
Beingclosewithyourmomwaswonderful.Mostofthetime.Butshe’dalwayshadthisuncannyabilitytoknowwhenIwaslying.
Ofherthreedaughters,whywasItheoneshecouldreadlikeherfavoritebook?EloisehadbeenmarriedtoJasperforamonthbeforeanyofushadfoundout.AndthefewtimesTaliaandIhadbrokencurfewinhighschool,itwasn’tmytwinMomhadinterrogated.Itwasme.
Busted.Everydamntime.
WinnwastheonlypersoninmyfamilywhoknewaboutVance,andshe’dkeptitquietsimplybecauseI’dasked.Griffinprobablyknew,buthe’dalwaysbeenmoreconcernedaboutEloise’schoiceinmen,notmine.
Tobefair,beforeJasper,Eloisehadpickedsomedisastersasboyfriends.IguessIcouldtakeitasapointofpridethatmyoldestbrothertrustedmetobeagoodjudgeofcharacter.
“What’shisname?”Momasked.
Icheckedovermyshoulderaswepassedthecounter,makingsureEmilyNelsenwasoutofearshot.ThenInoddedforMomtofollowmeintothekitchen.
“Vance,”Itoldherwhenwewerealone.
“He’s…wow.”Momfannedherface.“Wow.Differentfrommostofthemenyou’vedated.Veryruggedandheseemstall.Ishetall?Ishenewintown?Tellmehejustmovedhere.”
“Yes,he’stall.No,he’sjustvisiting.”
“Fromwhere?”Momasked,unzippinghercoat.“Missoula?”
“Idaho.”
“Oh.”Mom’sfacescrunchedup.“That’sfartherthanMissoula.”
“It’sfine.”Iliftedashoulder.“We’rejust…it’sfine.”
“Oh,honey.It’snotfine.Youlikehim.”
So,somuch.ButdivingintothedetailsaboutwhyhewashereandwhenVancewouldleavewouldonlyleadtoquestionsIwasn’tgoingtoanswer.
“Iwasthinkingaboutmakingpumpkinbreadwithacreamcheeseswirlfortomorrow,”Isaid.IfVancehadtaughtmeanythingbesidesjusthowgoodsexcouldbe,itwashowtochangethesubjectwhenthecurrenttopicwasheadeddownadangerousroad.“Wanttotakethelead?”
Momgavemeaflatlook.
“Orwecoulddochocolatechipsinsteadofthecreamcheese.”
“Lyla.”Momwouldn’tdropthis.
Isighed.“Yes,Ilikehim.Buthe’sleaving.It’snothingserious.Andrightnow,Ineedthat.He’sanescape.”
Hereyesdriftedtomythroat.Nomatterhowmanyyearspassed,she’dalwaysseethosebruises,wouldn’tshe?
“Chocolatechipsorcreamcheese?”Iasked.
“Creamcheese.”Shegavemeasadsmile,thenwalkedtotheracktuckedinthebackcornerofthekitchen,tradinghercoatforagreenapron.
Ipulleddryingredientsfrommyshelves,settingthemonthepreptable,whileMomwenttothewalk-in,gettingeggsandbutterandcream.“Okay,I’mgoingtogocheckonthingsoutthereandleaveyoutoit.”
“I’mgoingtoinvitehimtofamilydinnerattheranchonFriday.”
“Oka—”Huh.“What?”
“DinnerattheranchFriday.Ifhe’svisiting,thatmeanshe’seatingoutforeverymeal.Wouldn’titbenicetohavesomethinghomemade?”
“First,Iwon’ttakeoffensetothatstatement,consideringthemajorityofhismealshavebeenhere.Second,no.Just…no,Mom.”
“DoyouthinkitwouldbeweirdifIwentoutthereandinvitedhim?”
“Beyondweird.”
“You’reprobablyright.Icouldambushhiminthehotellobby.”
“That’scalledstalking.Hardno.”
“It’sjustdinner.”
“Mother,”Iwarned.
“Fine.”Shewaveditoff.“I’llbuttout.”
“Thankyou.”
Shecamecloser,tuckingalockofmydarkhairbehindanear.“I’mworriedaboutyou.Iloveyou.”
Twostatementsthatmeantthesamething.“Iloveyoutoo.”
“Here’sanidea.”Sheboppedmynosewithafinger,thenturnedtothetable.“Whatifwetoppedthispumpkinbreadwithsometoastedsunflowerseeds?Giveitalittlehintofsalt.”
“Yum.DoIhavesunflowerseeds?”
“Yougobacktothecounter.I’lldigaroundthepantry.”
“Okay.”Ilefthertohertask,knowingthatherpumpkinbreadcreationwouldbeamarvel.
EmilywasgonewhenIreturnedtothecounter,heremptymugandplateleftbehind,soIquicklyclearedthemawayandwipeddownthetablebeforewanderingbacktoVance’scorner.
Hisplatewasemptytoo.
“CanIgetyouanythingelse?”
“I’mgood.”Hepointedtowardthekitchen.“Youandyourmomlookalike.”
“Wearealike.She’sintheback,baking.”NowthatEmilywasgone,Ipulledoutthechairacrossfromhisandtookaseat.“Shetaughtmehowtocook.Knoxtoo.”
IhadcountlessmemoriesfrommychildhoodofspendinghoursandhourswithMominthekitchen.Atthetime,Ihadn’trealizedjusthowmuchIwaslearningfromherwhileshe’dbeenstandingatthestove.
She’dtaughtmeabouthardwork.Aboutthepridethatcamewithaccomplishment.She’dtaughtmepatience.Grace.
Andthrougheverymeal,Momhadtaughtusallaboutlove.
“EdenCoffeewasmydreamjobcometrue,”ItoldVance.“Inaway,IthinkitwasforMomtoo.”
Vanceleanedhiselbowsonthetable,notspeaking,justlistening.Hisgray-blueeyeslockedonmine.
ThemoretimeIspentaroundhim,themoreIwaslearningtoreadthosestrikingeyes.Theyunfocusedwheneverhewaslostinmemory.Theydarkenedeachnightbeforehefuckedmetosleep.Andwhenhewasinterestedinastory,soakingupeverywordlikehewasnow,theyhadabrightnessthatmadehisirisesalmostiridescent.
Ifonlywehadmoretimetogether.
I’dlearneverycolorofVanceSutter’seyes.
“Whilemydadwasworkingontheranchandrunningthefamilybusinesses,Mommanagedthehotel,”Itoldhim.“ShelovesTheEloise.NotthewayEloiselovesTheEloise,butMomenjoyedworkingthereuntilsheretired.ButIthinkifshecoulddoitalloveragain,she’dhavearestaurant.MaybenotlikeKnoxhaswithKnuckles,butsomethingsmaller.Somethinglikethis.”
“It’sgoodofyoutolethercomehere.”
“It’snohardship.Trustme.She’sanincrediblecook.Betterthanme.”
Vancescoffed.“Doubtit.”
Hisreactionwassoswift,soconfident,thatIforgotwhateverI’dbeenabouttosay.
Helikedmyfood.Whydidthatsurpriseme?HeatewhateverIputonhisplate.Heneverleftsomuchasacrumbbehind.Still,itwasnicetohear.
Ihadn’trealizeduntilnowhowmuchIwantedhimtolikemyfood.Tolikeme.Theywereoneandthesame.
Thedooropened,stealingVance’sattentionashelookedovermyshoulder.
Thatfreakingbell.Iwasstartingtoresentthejingle.
Withasigh,Itwistedinmyseat,smilingasSandycameinside.Sheranthekitchenshopdownthestreet,apopularstorewithtouristsandlocalsalike.
“Hey,Sandy,”Isaid,gettingtomyfeet.
“Hi,Lyla.”Shesweptalockofgrayhairoutofherface.“I’mfreezing.Somethingiswrongwiththefurnaceatthestore,soI’mhereforoneofyourmagicallattestochaseawaythecold.”
“Amagicallatte.”Ilaughed.“Icandothat.Vanilla,likeusual?”
“It’smyfavorite.”
“Mom’sinthekitchenifyouwanttogosayhi.”
“Oh,good.Ihaven’tseenherinweeks,soI’dlovetocatchup.”
“I’llbringyourcoffeebackinafew.”
Shenodded,hergazedartingtoVance,butshedidn’tintroduceherself.Shejustwanderedthroughtheshopandduckedintothekitchen.
Vance’schairlegsscrapedonthefloorashestoodandgrabbedhiscoat.“I’mgoingtoheadtomyroom.Takeashower.”
“Okay.”Ineveraskedifhewascomingtomyhouselater.Granted,hecameovereachnight,butstill,Ineverasked.Ididn’twanthimtothinkIwasclingy.Ididn’twanttohearhimsayno.
Weweren’tacouple.Wedidn’tmakeplans.Wedidn’tdate.Itwasbetterthatway,right?
Iturnedforthecounter,abouttoleave,butstopped.Wait.Whycouldn’twemakeplans?
“DoyouwanttogototheranchonFridayfordinner?”Iblurtedbeforethinkingitthrough.Itsoundedsoeerilylikemymother’svoicethatIcringed.
She’dputtheideainmyheadandithadjustsnuckout.Damnit.
“Nopressure.”Myfacebegantoflame.“MomisplanningafamilydinnerattheranchonFridayandmentionedit.Ifyou’resickofeatingatrestaurantseverynightandwantsomethinghomemade…”
Itwasofficial.Ihatedthewordhomemade.Andjustlikemymother,Iwasnowinsultingmyownbusiness.Nice,Lyla.
“Sorry.Thisisweird.”Iwaveditoff.“Ignoreme.Myfamilyisalot,andIjustwantedtoofferincase—”
“Blue.”
OhGod.Herecamethepolitedecline.AndIprobablywouldn’tseehimtonighteither.
Icouldn’tmeethisgaze.Ididn’twanttoknowwhatcolorhiseyesturnedwhentheywerefullofpity.SoIstaredatthefloorinstead.“Yeah?”
“WhattimeisdinnerFriday?”CHAPTERFOURTEENVANCE
TheEdenswereloud.
Notjustinvolume—thoughLyla’sfamilylaughedliketherewasadecibelquotatomeetoverdinner.Theywereloudinotherways.Theirsmiles.Theirhugs.Theirlove.
IthadbeenalongtimesinceI’dbeentoaSutterfamilydinner.Maybemymemorywasfailingme,buttheonlytimeIrecalledmyfamilybeingloudwastheverylastdinner.Theonewhereeverythinghadfallenapart.Notagoodloud.
TheEdenswereagoodloud.
AnneandHarrisonsatonoppositeendsofthediningroomtableand,betweenthem,theirchildrenandgrandchildren.
Thetableitself,asmooth,blackwalnutpiecewithmatchingchairs,wasnew.Itlackedthedentsanddingsoffurniturethathadseenmorethanahandfuloffamilyfunctions.Itwasslightlytoolargeforthespace,butthatwaslikelybecauseithadbeenboughtwiththiscrushofpeopleinmind.
Alargefamilyneededalargetable.Evenifitwascrowded,AnneandHarrisonprobablywantedeachpersonheretohaveaseat.They’devenmadespaceforthelittleonesandtheirhighchairs.
Nosurprise,Lyla’sparentsweregoodpeople.Annehadwelcomedmewithahug.Harrisonwithafirmhandshake.AndthenLyla’ssiblingshaddescended,nosybutnotintrusive.
They’daskedquestionsbuthadn’tpriedintomypersonallife.Instead,they’dlearnedtonightthatIpreferredwhiskeyoverbeer.ThatIlikedmysteaksmediumrare.Andthatmyfavoritecolorwasblue.
Lyla’sblue.
ThoughIhadn’tbeenthatspecificwhenEloisehadaskedafewmomentsago.
“Bluewouldhavebeenagoodcolorchoice,”Knoxsaid.
“Ididn’twantblue.”Annejuttedupherchin.“Iwantedyellow.”
“Butit’snotyellow,Mom.”
“Ofcourseit’syellow.”Annehadrecentlypaintedthepowderroomdownthehall.TonightwasthefirstanyonebutHarrisonhadseenit.“Thecoloriscalledmustard.Mustardisyellow.”
“Itlookslikebabypoop,”Griffinsaid.
“Griff,”Winnscolded.
“What?Itdoes.”
“It’snotthecolorofbabypoop.”Anneharrumphed,thenadjustedGriffandWinn’sdaughter,Emma,onherlap.“Changeyourdaughter’sdiaperonceinawhileandyou’llknowthedifference.”
Griffinjustlaughedandshookhishead,makingafaceathistwo-year-oldson,Hudson,whowasmakingahellofamessinhisboosterseatwithsomePlay-Doh.
Somedadsdidn’tchangediapers,butIsuspectedthatnoneofthemenhereshiedawayfromaloadedPampers.
“It’ssortofbabypoop,Mom,”Taliasaid,herhandsplayedonherpregnantbelly.
Sheandherhusband,Foster,werehavingaboy.CurrentnameoptionswereKaidenorJude.I’dvotedforJude.
“Areallofmychildrencolor-blind?”Anneaskedtheroom.“It’syellow.”
Harrisonhidhislaughterinthebeerbottlepressedtohislips.
“It’snotthatbad.”Jasper’sarmwasdrapedaroundthebackofEloise’schair,hishandonhershoulder.Hewasrarelyfarfromherside,andifshewasclose,hetouchedherinsomesmallway.
I’dseenthatsortofconstanttouchbefore.Jasper’sobsessionwithEloisehadtakenmeoffguardatfirst.Maybejustfrommyownpersonalhistory,butthehairsonthebackofmyneckhadstoodonendasI’dwatchedthemfromthecornerofmyeyealmostconstantly.
Butafterhoursofseeingthemtogether,IrealizeditwasdifferentthanAndreaandBrandon.
Jasperdidn’ttouchEloisetopossessher,tocontrolher.Hetouchedherlikeshewashistethertotheearth.Likewithouther,he’ddriftawayonabreeze.Helovedher.
Therewasalotofloveatthistable.
Luckytable.
“Thankyou,Jasper.”Annegavehimaproudsmile.
“Kissass,”Knoxteased.“It’shideous.”
“It’snothideous.”Memphis,Knox’swife,gaveAnneasweetsmile.“Ilikeittoo.”
KnoxandMemphiseachhadakidintheirarms.Memphiswasfeedingtheirbabyboy,HarrisonEden,abottle.Knoxstrokedtheiroldestson’sback.
Drakehadfallenasleepaboutanhourago,evenwithallthisnoise.We’dfinisheddessert.Thedirtyplateswerestillscatteredacrossthetable.He’dhadhislastbiteofbrowniesandicecream,thencrawledintoKnox’sarms.He’drestedhisheadonhisdad’sshoulder,andfiveminuteslater,he’dconkedout.
“We’retakingapoll.”AnneaimedhergazeatFosterseatednexttoher.“Whatdoyouthink?”
“Ilikeit,”hesaid,sharingaquicklookwithJasper.
I’dlearnedtonightthatthetwoofthemhadworkedtogetherforyearswhileFosterhadbeenintheUFC.JasperhadbeenFoster’straineruntilhe’dretired,andbothhadmovedtoQuincyaboutthesametime.
They’dsharedafewlookstonight,unspokenmessagesflyingacrossthistable.
Onceuponatime,I’dhadthatsortoffriendship.Brotherhood.
WithCormac.
Lylaputherhandonmythighbeneaththetable,herdelicatetouchchasingawaythepast.
Icoveredherknuckleswithmypalm,drawingcirclesonherskinwithmythumb.
“Lyla?”Annearchedhereyebrowsatherdaughter,waitingforhervote.
“Idon’tthinkit’sthecolorofbabypoop,Mom.Morelikesplit-peasoup.”
Anne’sjawdropped.“It’snotgreen.”
“It’sgotagreentint.”
Iclampedmyteethtogether,fightingthelaughthatLyla’sbrotherscouldn’thide.
“Vance?”Anneasked,hereyespleading.
“Yellow,”Ilied.“It’sdefinitelyyellow.”Itwassplit-pea,baby-poopgreen.
Herentirefacelitup.
SodidLyla’s.Shesmiled,knowingI’dliedforhermother’ssake.
“Dowereallyneedtovote?”Mateoasked.“I’lljusttellyouhowit’sgoingtogo.Yourkidshatethecolor.Yourkids-in-lawalsohatethecolor,buttheyloveyoutoomuchtotellyouthetruth.”
“Sonotonlyareyoucriticizingmytaste,nowyou’resayingyoudon’tloveme.”Annepickedupherclothnapkinandthrewitathishead.“Getout.You’renosonofmine.”
Mateocaughtthenapkinandlaughed,adeep,heartylaughthatwasthesameashisfather’sandbrothers’.
IneededtwohandstocountthesimilaritiesbetweentheEdenmen.AndthesamewastrueforLylaandhermotherandsisters.
Astwins,LylaandTaliahadthesameshapetotheirface,noseandmouth.Cormac’stwinshadbeenalmostimpossibletotellapartformostpeople.IthadtakenmemonthstoknowwhichwasHadleyorElsie.ButeventhoughLylaandTaliahadthesamefeatures,I’dknowLylaanywhere.
Talia’seyeswereblue,butnotLyla’sblue.
Andwhenitcametokindredspiritsandpersonalities,LylawasverymuchlikeAnne.
“HowaboutIrepaintthebathroomforyouthisweekend?”Lylaasked.“Wecouldpickoutaprettygrayorforestgreen.”
“No.”Annesighed.“You’rebusy.I’lldoit.Maybe.OrmaybeI’lljustmakeyouallsufferwiththebaby-poopyellow.”
“Speakingofbabypoop.”Memphisstoodwiththebabyinherarm.“Berightback.”
ShebentandkissedKnox’sforehead,thenduckedoutoftheroom.
“Okay,cowboy.”GriffinpickedupaballofHudson’sPlay-Dohandputitinitsyellowcontainer.“Timeforustogohomeandgetinthetub,thenheadtobed.”
“No.”Hudson’smouthturneddownatthecorners,thenhecrumpled,fallingforwardashebegantocry.
“Oh,myson.”Winnwasoutofherchairinaflash,pickingupHudsonforahug.
Hewrappedhislegsaroundherwaistandhissmallarmsaroundhershoulders,likeshewashissavingangel.Sheprobablywas.ThoughWinnwouldlikelystillmakehersontakeabath.
“Let’sgohome.”ShekissedHudson’scheek,thencarriedhimwithherasshemovedtocollectthediaperbag.
Therestofusstood,clearingplatesandglassestothekitchen.
TaliaandFosterwerethefirsttotakeoff,followedcloselybyJasperandEloise.ThenKnoxandMemphisloadeduptheirboysandheadedhome.Mateowavedgoodbyeasheclimbedintohistruck,headingtothecabinwherehelivedinthemountains.
GriffinandWinndidn’thavealongdrivetotheirhouseontheranch,sotheystuckaroundthelongesttosaygoodbye.
“Goodtoseeyou,Vance,”Winnsaidaswestoodbesidethedoor.
“Youtoo.”Beforedinner,I’dhadalotofrespectforWinslowEdenasacop.Afterdinner,thatrespecthadonlygrown,seeingherasawifeandmother,loyalandloving.
AsfarasIcouldtell,shewastheonlypersonwhoknewaboutmysituationinCoeurd’Alene.Theclusterfuckthatwasmyjob.Theshooting.Thatshe’dletthatstaybetweenus,well…Ididn’thavemuchtoofferherasthanks,butifsheeverneededafavor,I’dmovemountainstomakeithappen.
“Gladyoucouldmakeitout.”Griffinshookmyhand,thenpulledLylaintoahug,kissingthetopofherhair.“Momsaidtherewereafewthingsintheshopthatneedfixing.Thepapertowelholderinthebathroomandyourofficedoorisn’tclosingquiteright.DadandIaregoingtocomeintomorrowandtakealook.”
“It’snothingmajor,”Lylasaid.
“Thenitwon’ttakeuslong.”Helethergo,thenopenedthedoor,usheringhisfamilyoutside,leavingmeandLylawithherparents.
“Thankyouforhavingme.”ItookHarrison’soutstretchedhand,thenbenttokissAnne’scheek.“Dinnerwasdelicious.”
“Itwassowonderfulmeetingyou.”Annesmiledtome,thenherdaughter.“Loveyou.”
“Loveyoutoo,Mom.”Lylahuggedherparents.“Bye,Dad.”
“Seeyoutomorrow,sweetheart.”Harrisonheldthedooropenforus,standinginthethresholdaswecrossedhisporch.Thenwithawave,hedisappearedinsidewithhiswife.
Theairsmelledlikesnow.Itwascoming,soonerratherthanlater.ButIdrewinalongbreath,catchingthescentofhayandanimalsandearth.Amancouldliveadamngoodlifesmellingthatcombinationeveryday.IenviedtheEdenswhocalledthishome.
“WhenIwasakid,Iwantedtobeacowboy,”ItoldLyla.
Lylalaughedaswewalkeddowntheporchstairs.“Youdid?”
“Yeah.Ten-year-oldmewouldbeinheavenrightnow.”
Thoughthirty-four-year-oldmewasclosetoheavenatthemomenttoo.
Starscoatedtheonyxsky.Themooncastasilverhueacrossthejaggedmountainsinthedistance.Andwhileitwasabreathtakingnight,itsbeautypaledincomparisontothewomanatmyside.
“Comeon.”Lylasnaggedmyhand,interlacingourfingers,thentuggedmeawayfromwherewe’dparkedmytruck.
Iwasn’tsurewhereshewasleadingme,butIfellinstepbesideher,keepingherhandinmineaswecrossedtheopengravellotbesideAnneandHarrison’shouse.
Threelargebuildingssatoppositetheirhome—abarn,ashopandthestables.Lylahadpointedthemoutwhenwe’darrivedearlier.Theyardlightsilluminatedeachoftheirfronts.Beyondthem,pastthefencesandcorrals,itwaspitchblack.
ButwhenLylaandIhadcomeoutbeforedinner,we’dmadeitbeforedark.Ithadgivenmethechancetoseeherfamily’sranch.Itwasamagnificentsetting,withmeadowsanduntamedevergreenforestsandmountainrangesineverydirection.
Paradise
“Wanttomeetournewesthorse?”sheasked,leadingmetothestables.
“Sure.”
Sheletgoofmyhandtoopenaslidingdoorandstepinside.
Ijoinedher,squintingassheflippedonthelights.Thenwhenmyeyesadjusted,Itookinthehugespace,breathinginthescentsofhorsesandleatherandstraw.Awidelanetookupthecenterofthebuilding.Oneachsidewasarowofstables.
Shewalkedtoastall,peeringoveragate.
Itookthespotbesideher.Insidethestall,ablackcoltstoodwithawhitestaronhishead.Hismothercameover,nudgingLyla’sarm.
“Isn’thecute?”Lylapettedthehorse’ssmooth,roundcheek,thenmovedaway,headingdeeperintothebuilding.Shestrolledpastemptystalls,herpaceunhurried.“Myhorse,Mercury,andmostoftheothersareoutinthepasture.Butifyouwanttoliveoutyourchildhooddreams,wecouldcomebackanotherday.Goriding.”
God,thatsoundedfun.I’driddenafewtimesovertheyears,thoughneveroften.WhenIwentoutintothemountains,itwasusuallyonfoot.AndasmuchasI’dlovetospendadaywithLylahere,exploringtheEdenranch,thatwasn’twhyIwasinMontana.
Andtimewasrunningout.
Soonthemountainswouldbecoveredinsnow,makinganyattempttosearchforCormacmoredifficultthanitalreadywas.Ifhe’dplannedtospendthewinterinthesemountains,thenhe’dgatheredenoughsuppliestostayinwhateverholehe’ddugforhimself.He’dlimitmovement,hidingawayuntilspring.
Ifhewasevenhere.
“Maybe,”ItoldLyla.
Sheheardthenoandgavemeasadsmileaswereachedthefarendofthestables.
“Hey.”Isnaggedherhand,missingitinmyown.Withatug,Ihauledherclose.“Thanksforbringingmeheretonight.”
“You’rewelcome.”Herfreehandslidupmychest,herindexfingerskimmingeachofthebuttonsontheHenleybeneathmyflanneljacket.
“Ilikeyourfamily.Ilikehowloudtheyare.”
Herfacesoftened.“Ilikeittoo.”
“Ihaveabigfamily.”ThewordstumbledfreebeforeIcouldswallowthemdown.
Lyla’sgazeshottomine.Maybesheexpectedmetopullaway,tochangethesubject.Normally,Iwould.
Nottonight.
“Doyoueverfeellostinthecrowd?”Iasked.
“Sometimes,”shewhispered.“Isthathowitiswithyourfamily?”
“Notlost.Justoutside.”
Herhandcametomybeard,strokingalongmyjawwithherknuckles.“Doesyourfamilyknowyou’rehere?”
“Mydaddoes.MymotherandIhaven’tspokenfor…awhile.”
“Sorry.”
“Metoo.”
Therewasmoretoexplain.Astorytotell.Andgoddamnit,Iwantedtolayitonher.Iwantedtounburdenmyheartagain.
Shehadnoideahowmuchithadhelped,sharingmyhistorywithCormac.Unloadingitforthefirsttimeinyears.Maybeitwouldhelpmakesenseofmyfamily’sbullshittooifItoldheraboutit.ThewayLylalistened,thewaysheabsorbedmyeveryword,madeitsotempting.
Butwe’dhadsuchagoodnight.Maybeiftherewasn’tanexpirationdate,maybeifthesnowwasn’tcoming,I’dgivein.
Instead,Iclosedmyotherhandoverhers,takingitawayfrommyfaceandtwistingitbehindherback,pinningitjustaboveherass.ThenIpressedincloser,holdinghertomeasIbentandtookhermouth.
Sheopenedformeinstantly,andwhenIslidmytongueinside,strokinghers,thepastdisappeared.Therewasnothingbutthiswomanandthesweettasteofherlips.
Mycockswelled,mybodycravinghers.
LylawhimperedasIpressedmyarousalagainstherhip.
Howmanytimesdidwehaveleft?Five.Ten.Itwasn’tenough.Ialreadyknew,nomatterthenumber,itwouldn’tbeenough.SoIshuffledustowardthenearestsurface,pressingLylaagainstawide,woodenbeam.
Itoremymouthfromhers,trailingitalongherjawtoanearlobe.“Haveyoueverbeenfuckedouthere?”
“No,”shepanted,reachingbetweenus.Herpalmpressedhardagainstmyerection,earningagroan.“Vance.”
Fuck,butIlovedhowshesaidmyname.
AlmostasmuchasIlikedthatshe’dwornadresstonight.Itwasacaramelturtleneck,thecableknitthickandsoft.Theboxyshapeshouldn’thavebeensexy,butitwasshort,hittinghermidthighsoahintofthosetoned,smoothlegscouldtauntmeallnight.Hersexybootscamealmosttoherknees.
“I’vewantedtohikeupthisdressallnight.”Ibunchedthefabricinmyhands,draggingitupherhips.ExactlywhatI’dwantedtodosincethemomentI’dwatchedhercomeoutofherbedroom,herhaircurledinlong,loosewavesandashimmeronhereyelids.
Myhandslidbeneaththedress’shem,divingforthecenterofherpanties.
“You’realreadysoaked,”IgrowledagainstherneckasIslippedthefabricaside,slidingmyfingersthroughherslittoteaseatherclit.
“Yes,”shepurred,archingintomytouch.
“Youwantmyfingers?Ormycock?”
“Both.”
“Whatdoyousay?”
Sheleanedinforaquickkissandwhisperedthemagicword.“Please.”
Ifistedthepantiesand,withasingle,quicktug,torethemoffherbody.
Lylagasped,hereyespoppingopenandshootingmeaglare.“Vance.”
Shecouldpretendtobepissedallshewanted.WebothknewshegotwetasfuckwhenItoreherpanties.Maybeshe’drealizebeforeIlefttherewasnopointinwearingthematall.
“Mine.”Ismirkedandtuckedtheruinedlaceinmycoatpocket.Thenwithonehandpalmingherass,Idippedafingerintohertightheat.
Shemeltedagainstme,whimperingasItoyedwithher,workingherhigherandhigher.“Iloveyourfingers.”
“Myfingersloveyourpussy.”Iaddedasecondfinger,strokingherdeepuntilherlegsbegantotremble.
She’dcomeonmyhandplentyoftimes,buttonight,Iwantedtofeelherexplodeonmycock,soIpulledaway,earninganotherglare.
Iquicklyunzippedmyjeans,fistingmyshaftandgivingitafewstrokes.ThenIhoistedLylauphigheragainstthepost,grippingherthighsasIpinnedherwithmyhips.
“Mouth,”Iordered.
Shekissedmeimmediately,hertonguetanglingwithmine.Ilinedupatherentrance,andwithonethrust,Iburiedmyselfinsideher,myjawclenchingasIfoughttokeepcontrol.“Fuck.Youfeelsogood,Blue.”
Herinnerwallsfluttered.“Hurry.”
Onethrust,andshewasreadytocome.
Ipulledout,slammedinside.ThenIreachedbetweenusandpressedmywetfingerstoherclit.
“Vance.”Hercryechoedthroughtheraftersasshecameapart,pulsingaroundmeasIrockedustogether,overandover.
Itdidn’ttakelongformetofollowherovertheedge,mybodycollapsingoverhers,bothofusbonelessandlimpagainstthepost.
Ahorsewhinniedfromtheothersideofthebuilding.
Lylagiggled,thatmusicallaughrightinmyear.
“Youokay?”Iasked.
“Yes.Areyou?”
“Morethanokay.”
Shehummed,sleepyandsweet.She’dprobablycrashonthedrivebacktotown.SoIsetheronherfeet,andwithmycomeleakingdownherbarethigh,Iledherfromthestablesandtookherhome.
Lylawasoutbeforeweevenreachedthehighway.
Andwhilesheslept,Itookinthestar-markedskies,prayingthisweatherwouldholdforjustacouplemoreweeks.
NotjustsoIhadachanceatfindingCormac,butbecauseIneededthetimewithLyla.
ExceptwhenIwokethenextmorning,aloneinLyla’sbedbecauseshe’dalreadygonetowork,beyondherbedroomwindowswasathinlayeroficysnow.CHAPTERFIFTEENLYLA
Vancehadmepinnedagainsttheshowerwall.Steambillowedaroundus,andadropofwaterclungtohislowerlipashepoundedinsideme,hisbreathingasraggedasmyown.
Myhandsgrippedhisshoulders,holdingtight.TheharderIduginmynails,theharderhefuckedme.
“Oh,God.”Everymuscleinmybodyshookasmyorgasmrushedtowardmelikeanavalanche.Myhandsclungtohisshoulders,mynailslikeclawsinhisslipperyskin.
“Lyla.”Thewayhemoanedmynamesentashiverdownmyspine.Itwaserotic.Desperate.Hewasclose,onthevergeofhisownrelease,butwouldn’tdarestopuntilIcamefirst.
Hisstronghandscuppedmyass,holdingmeinplace.Hesqueezed,hisfingertipsdiggingintomyflesh,andthatlittlebitofpainwasthetrigger.
“Vance.”Ishatteredintoathousandpiecesasheroaredmyname.
Mybodypulsedaroundhislength.Whitestarsconsumedmyvision.
Hepouredinsideme,astringofincoherentsoundsescapinghisthroat.
MyheartthunderedasIcamedownfromtheorgasm,myarmsandlegswrappedsotightlyaroundhimhe’dhavetoprymeloose.Notthatheseemedinanyhurrytoletmego.
Hislargebodyenvelopedmineashisarmssnakedaroundmywaist,hisforeheadfallingforwardtothetileatmyback.Vancekeptmetrappedagainstthewalluntilthewaterchangedfromhottolukewarm.
Itwasfouro’clockinthemorning,andI’dbelategettingtothecoffeeshop.I’djustfinishedrinsingoutmyhairwhentheshowerdoorhadopenedandVancehadsteppedinside.
HisdaysofstayinginbedwhileIslippedoutbeforedawnwereover.Somethinghadshiftedinthepastfourdays,eversincethatnightatthestables.
SexwithVancehadalwaysbeenpowerful,butnow,therewasanedge.Thisfranticdesire.Itwaslikewebothknewtimewasrunningout,soneitherofussquanderedachancetobetogether.
Heeasedaway,droppingakisstomypulseashesetmeonmyfeet.Thenhepushedthewethairawayfrommytemples,holdingmyfaceinhishandsashiseyessearchedmine.
Thiswasnewtoo.Hestaredatmelikehewastryingtomemorizeeverydetail.Myeyes.Mynose.Mylips.Standingstill,lettinghisgazerakeovermyfeaturesasItriedtohidethesorrowinmyheart,wastorture.
“I’mgoingtobelateforwork.”
Hesighed,takingonelastlonglook,thennoddedandletmego.
Islippedoutoftheshower,towelingoffasthescentofhisshampoofilledthebathroom.
Thisweekend,he’dshownupwithhissuitcasefromthehotel.Hisreservationhadended.Ratherthanextendit,he’djustbroughthisbelongingshere.
Istaredathistoothbrushintheholderbesidemine.Attheleathertoiletrycaseonthecounternexttothesink.Therewasarazorinsidethatheclearlyhadn’ttouchedinweeks.NotthatIminded.IlovedVance’sbeardandhowthickitfeltbeneathmyfingertips.
Whatwouldhelooklikewithoutit?
I’dneverknow.
Myhearttwisted.Vancewouldliveforeverinmymemoryexactlyashewastoday.
Anotherwomanwouldgettowatchhimage.She’dgettowitnessgraythreadhisdark,chocolatehair.She’dgettoseethelaughlinesatthesidesofhismouthdeepenoverthenextdecade.She’dgettosleeponhisbroadchestandmakehimcoffeeinthemorning.
Theideaofcoffeesnappedmeoutofmythoughts,andIhurriedthroughtherestofmymorningroutine.
WhenVancecameoutoftheshower,hewrappedatowelaroundhiswaistanddraggedhishandsthroughhisdamphair.Thenhewipedhispalmacrossthesteamymirror.Dropletsraceddownitssurface,andwhenIreturnedhometonight,I’dhavetouseglasscleanertoerasethestreaks.
Anotherwomanwouldgettocomplainaboutthestreaks.Maybeshe’dtrytobreakhimofthathabit.
“Lyla.”
Ijumped,tearingmyeyesawayfromthemirror.“Yeah?”
“What’swrong?”
“Nothing.”Iforcedasmile,thenleanedintoswipeonacoatofmascara.“Willyoucomeintotheshopwhenyougetbacktotown?”
“Yeah.”
“Besafe.”Ikissedthecenterofhischest,thenleftthebathroomformyadjoiningcloset.
Dressedinapairofjeansandasoftcrewneck,IstoppedinthekitchentoturnonthecoffeepotforVance.ThenIsnaggedmykeysandhustledtothegarage,drivingacrosstownandparkinginmyusualspaceinthealleybehindtheshop.
Everyday,itwasharderandhardertocometowork.Vancedidn’tneedmetaggingalonginthemountainsasadistractionwhilehewassearching,butthehoursspentatEdenCoffeewerehoursIcouldhavespentwithhim.
Isteppedoutofthecar,myfootlandingonthedampgravel.Idodgedapuddleonthewaytothecoffeeshop’sdoor.
ThesnowfromFridayhadmelted.ThankGod.WhenI’dwokenuponSaturdaytoseethegroundcoveredinwhite,I’dcriedintheshowerbeforeVancehadjoinedme.
Ofcourse,theoneyearwhenIdesperatelyneededalong,extendedfall,winter’sicybreathwascascadingdownmyneck.Buttheweatherhadwarmedenoughtoturnsnowintoslush.
Thefirstcoupleofhourswerequiet,likeusual,soIspenttheminthekitchen,bakingwhateversuitedmyfancy.
Today’schoiceswereblueberrysconesandchocolatecroissants.PartiallybecauseVancelovedthem.Partiallybecausethedark,almostblackchocolatesuitedmymood.
Withthebakingandbreakfastprepfinished,Iwentaboutmynormaltaskstoopentheshop.Imadelattesandcappuccinosfortheregularcustomerswhocameineachmorning.Iwarmedbreakfastburritosandservedyogurtparfaits.Idishedcinnamonrollsandwildhuckleberrymuffins,allwithanunwaveringsmile.
I’djustfinishedwipingdownatablewhenWinnwalkedin.
Shewasdressedinapairofdark-washjeansandawhitebutton-downshirt.Shehadonablackblazertoday,itslengthmostlyconcealingherbadgeandgun.
“Hi.”IgaveheraquickhugbeforeIwentbehindthecounter,makingheralatte.“Wantbreakfast?”
“Popssaidyouhadchocolatecroissants.”
“Ido.”Ilaughed.
Winn’sgrandfatherwasthereasonIhadtosavethreecroissantsforVanceintheback.CoviewouldtellanyonehesawtodaythatIhadcroissants.Hewasretirednow,butwhenhe’dbeenthemayor,I’dhavesoldoutwithinanhour.Today,theymightlastuntilnoon.
“I’malsohereonofficialbusiness,”WinnsaidasIhandedoverhercoffeeandpastry.
Iswallowedagroan.“Okay?”
“Canwetalkinthekitchen?”
“Um,sure.”Iscannedthespace,makingsurethefewpeopleattablesweretakencareoffornow,thenheadedfortheback.“What’sup?”
“WhenIgottothestationthismorning,IhadamessagefromanFBIagent.HewasreturningacallImadelastweek.”
Mypulsequickened.WasitagoodthingforVanceiftheFBIwasnowinvolved?Orabadthing?“Okay,”Idrawled.
“TheagentIspoketoisassignedtheCormacGallaghercase.ItoldhimaboutyouandthatIhavereasontobelieveCormaciswhoattackedyou.”
“AnddidyoutellhimaboutVance?”
“No.”Winnshookherhead.“Vancehasenoughproblemswithhissuperiorssincetheshooting.Ididn’twanthimtocatchanyflackforbeinghere.AsfarasI’mconcerned,he’sinMontanaonvacationanddoingalotofhiking.”
Shooting.Whatshooting?WhatwasWinntalkingabout?Vancehadn’tmentionedashooting.
“I’llcallVancelater,”Winnsaid,sippinghercoffee.“Iassumehe’soutinthemountainstoday.”
Imanagedanod,stilltryingtoslowmymindfromspinning.Whatshooting?
“IcalledtheFBIbecauseit’stheircase.IfthisreallyisCormacGallagher,thenit’sfederal.Theyhavejurisdiction.”
“Sodoesthatmeanthey’recominghere?”
“No.”Sheshookherhead.“TheagentassuredmethatifitwasCormac—I’mnotsureheactuallybelievedme—he’dbelonggonefromQuincybynow.Thatwithoutatrailorlead,there’dbenothingtofind.Theagentwas,um…notexactlyhappythatIhadn’tnotifiedthemimmediatelyaftertheincidentattheriver.”
Iscoffed.“Wedidn’tevenknowwhohewasatthatpoint.WemightneverhaveknownifnotforVance.”
“Well,theagentmadeitclearthatthereasonCormacwasstillat-largewasbecauseofmeandtheshortcomingsofthelocalauthorities.”
“That’snotfair.”
Hershouldersfell.“Maybe.ButI’msorrywedidn’tfindhim.”
“It’snotyourfault.Youtried.”
“Maybeweshouldhavetriedharder.”
“Eventhen.Idon’tthinkitwouldhavemattered.”ItwastheharshrealityIdidn’twanttoface.
Cormacwasgone.
He’dleftthisareaaftertheriver,takingwithhimnotonlymychanceforjustice,butVance’schanceforclosure.
“He’sgone,isn’the?Cormac?”Icouldn’taskVance.Iwouldn’tmakehimanswer.
“Mostlikely.”
“IsthatwhyyouletVancekeepsearching?”
“Yesandno.Givenhisexperience,iftherewassomethingtofind,hewouldhavebeentheonetofindit.ButIalsothinkheneededthissearchtotakehismindoffeverythingelse.”
Theshooting?
“Aftersomethingsoawful,sometimes,youjustneedtorememberwhyyou’reacop.”Winn’sgazewasunfocusedasshestaredataninvisiblespotonthefloor.“Todosomethinggood.Iwasn’tgoingtotakethatfromhim.”
Forthat,Iwouldalwaysbegrateful.“Iloveyou,Winn.”
“Iloveyou,Lyla.”Hereyessoftened.“You’refallingforVance,aren’tyou?”
Therewasnopointinlying,butIwasgoingtododge.“He’sleaving.”
Maybeanotherfriend,anothersister,wouldhaveurgedmetoaskhimtostay.Maybesuggestedwetrylongdistance.ButWinnsimplygavemeahug,whispering,“I’msorry,”beforesheslippedoutofthekitchenandreturnedtoworkatthestation.
Themomentshewasgone,Itookmyphonefrommypocketandtypedinasearch
vancesuttershooting
ButbeforeIcouldaddidahotothecriteria,myfingersstopped.Istaredatthescreenforalongmoment,thendeletedeverythingandreturnedthephonetomyjeans.
TherewasareasonVancechangedthesubjectsooften.Therewasareasonhe’davoidedtellingmeabouthisjoborhisfamily.
Hedidn’twantmetoknow.
Iwasn’thisgirlfriend.
Iwassimplyhisescape.
WhywasIalwaysthepersoninarelationshipwhofelltoofar?Whocaredtoomuch?Whoforgottherules?
Wholetherheartleadtheway?
Ididn’tregretit.Notaminute.NotwithVance.
Maybethatwouldcome,afterheleftQuincy.Butfortoday,ifheneededanescape,I’dbethatrefuge.SoIsquaredmyshoulders,shovedmycuriositydowndeepandreturnedtothecountertosmileandservemycustomers.
Vancecameinaroundfour,dressedlikehewasmostdaysinCarharttpantsandalong-sleevedthermallayeredbeneaththatthickflannelcoat.Bothhisbeanieandgloveswerestuffedinthecoat’spockets.
Whatkindofclothesdidhewearinthesummers?Duringhisnexttriptothebarber,howshortwouldhecuthishair?Besidesfuckawomansenseless,whatdidhedoforfun?
Whatshooting?
QuestionsIdidn’task.
“Hey,Blue.”
“Hi.”Didallhisloversgetnicknames?Orjustme?“DidyoutalktoWinn?”
Hesighed.“Yeah.Gothermessage.Calledheronthedriveback.Can’tsayI’msurprisedordisappointed.It’sbetterthisway.”
“Howwasit?Findanything?”
“Cold.Andno.”
No.Heusedtosaynotyet
Iswallowedmydisappointment.“Coffee?”
“Yeah.Thatwouldbegreat.”
“I’llbringitover.”
“Thanks.”Hedippedhischin,thenturned,headingforhisregularseat.
Thatchairwashis.Thetabletoo,butmostlythatchair.Fortherestofmydays,Iwouldn’tbeabletolookinthatcornerandnotthinkofVance.
Wouldheremembermetoo?
Ofallthequestionsfloatinginmyhead,thatoneterrifiedmethemost.Soinsteadofwondering,Ifilledacupofcoffee.Iplatedachocolatecroissant.
AndwhenItookthembothtoVance,Iremindedmyselfofthesimpletruth.
Hewasallbutgone.CHAPTERSIXTEENVANCE
Iwasn’tthetypeofmanwhogotlost.North.South.East.West.Myinternalcompasshadalwaysreadtrue.
ButdamnifIcouldn’tletmyselfgetlostinMontana.
AsIstoodontopofarockoutcropping,theviewinfrontofmewasnothinglessthanmagnificent.Farinthedistancewasanindigomountainrange.Betweenus,thefoothillswereaspectacularmixofgreensandgolds.Snowdustedthetreetopsasparklingwhite.Milesaway,therivermeanderedthroughthevalley,cuttingitswindingpaththroughthelandscape.
Ifilledmylungswiththecold,freshair,holdingituntilitburned.Untilitchasedawayanydoubt.
Thiswasit.
Thelastday.
Beneaththetreetrunks,threeinchesofsnowblanketedneedlesandfallenleaves.Itwasdifferentthanlastweekend’ssnow.Itwasheretostay.Eveniftheweatherwarmedintown,thetemperatureswouldn’tchangemuchouthere.Theflakesthathadfallenlastnightwerehereuntilspring.Theywereheretostay
There’dbenohidingmypresenceanymore.There’dbenocoveringmytracks.IfCormacwasouthere,he’dlikelyknowaboutmelongbeforeIknewabouthim
AndifIwasbeinghonestwithmyself,therewasprobablynothingtofind.
There’dprobablybeennothingtofindallmonth.
I’donlyscouredafractionofthesemountains.Theareawassovast,sountamed,IcouldhavespentayearsearchingandstillmissedCormac.Itwastimetofacethetruth.
Hewins.He’dbeatenme,timeaftertime.
Itburned.Itfuckingburned.Theleatherofmyglovessqueakedasmyhandsballedintotightfists.Admittingdefeatwasn’tinmynature,butgoddamn,he’dbeatenme.
Itwasastrangemixofemotions,thefrustrationthatcamewitheventhinkingCormac’snameandthewayIfeltsoatpeacestaringoutattheMontanalandscape.Intheend,theragewon.
“Fuckyou,Cormac.”Thewordsvanishedonabreeze.
Withthem,justice.Withthem,resolution.Withthem,hope.
Itwasn’tfuckingfair.
Hewins.
“I’msorry,Norah.Goddamnit,I’msorry,girls.”
Mythroatstartedtoclose,thinkingabouttheirbrightfaces.Aboutthelivestheyshouldhavelived.Theirfather,theirfleshandblood,hadrobbedthemblind.
“Fuckyou,Cormac!”Myscreambouncedoffthecliffsatmyback,echoinginthedistancefornoonetohear.
Thepaininmychestwascrippling.
I’msorry.
Isqueezedmyeyesshut,thefailuresoheavyonmyshouldersitsentmetoaknee.
I’msorry,Lyla.
HowdidItellherthatIwasgivingup?HowdidIcrushherhope?
HowdidIsaygoodbye?
Ishifted,fallingtoaseat,thenproppedmyforearmsonmyknees.Thesnowbeneathmebegantomeltandsoakthroughthethickcanvasofmypants.Butevenasmyassgotwet,Ikeptmyeyeontheview,clingingtoitspeace.Itssilence.
Thisusedtobemydream,spendingmydaysinthemountainsinsolitude.
Whenhaditgottensolonely?Whenhaditgottenso…cold?
ThebestdayI’dhadinthesemountainswasthedayI’dbroughtLylatoherwaterfall.ThedayI’drememberedhowniceitwastohavesomeoneelseonthetrail.
ThatsomeoneusedtobeCormac.We’dspentcountlesshourstogether.Talkingaboutnothing.Talkingabouteverything.
God,Imissedmyfriend.IhatedthatImissedhim.Hisabsencehadleftajaggedhole.
WhatwouldhappenwhenIleftQuincy?HowbigofapiecewouldIleaveherewithLyla?
Isighedandhungmyhead.
Thepastweekhadbeenequallyincredibleandagonizing.Inthemidnighthours,weclungtoeachother,savoringeverymoment.Everytouch.Ifwewerealone,thenIwasinsideher.
LylaEden.
Blue.
Thesurpriseofmylife.
Ihuffedalaugh.ThatsonofabitchCormac.Ifnotforhim,Iwouldn’thavemether.Ihatedhimforwhathe’ddonetoher.Forthemarkshe’dleft,bothphysicalandmental.Butdamn,Iwasgladtohavefoundher.
Evenifitwasonlyforamonth.
“Fuckyou,Cormac,”Iwhispered.
Hewon.
ButmaybeIwontoo.
MaybeitwastimetotakealookatthebaggageI’dbeencarrying.Maybeitwastimetomakesomechanges.
Ikeptmyseat,staringintothedistanceuntilmyasswassoakingwetandstartingtogonumb.ItwasonlywhenthesunstartedtosinkthatIstood,putonefootinfrontoftheotherandmademywayoffthismountaintomytruck.
ThemomentIwasbehindthewheel,thedoorclosed,thesilencemightaswellhavebeenthelidclosingonacoffin.
Done.Itwasdone.
ThenexttimeatiporleadcameinaboutCormac,Iwasn’tchasingit.
SoIstartedthetruckandputmyfootonthegaspedal,keepingmyeyesgluedtotheroadasthemountainsandtreesstreakedpastmywindshield.
Witheverymile,thepressureinmychestloosened,butittooktheentiredrivetoQuincyformyshoulderstorelax.AndIdidn’ttakemyfirstdeepbreathuntilIwasparkedoutsideEdenCoffee.
Lylawasinside.Shehadherbacktothewindows,herhipleanedagainstthecounter.Herhairwassweptintoaponytail,thesilkystrandsfallingdownherspine.
Fuck,butI’dmissthathairdrapedacrossmychestasweslept.
ShewastalkingtoCrystal,whowasmakingsomethingattheespressomachine.Lylashovedoffthecounter,smilingasshedisappearedintothekitchen.
Iclimbedoutofthetruckandwalkedinside,notbotheringtostopatthecounter.
“Um…”Crystal’swide-eyedlookgotignoredasIheadedforthekitchen.
WhenIwalkedthroughtheopendoorway,Lylalookedupfromherplacebesidealarge,stainlesssteeltableinthecenteroftheroom.Herfacelituplikeasupermoonagainstaninkynightsky.“Hey.”
Yeah,I’dwontoo.
Icrossedthedistancebetweenus,takingherfaceinmyhands.
“Areyouok—”
Icrushedmymouthtohers.
Ittookheraheartbeattorelax,butthenherhandscametomycoat,grippingthelapelsassheroseuponhertoes.
Ilickedtheseamofherlips,demandingentry,andwhensheopenedforme,Idevoured,tastingeverysweetinchofthiswoman’smouthwhileIstillhadthechance.
Shehummed,sinkingdeeperintothekiss.Herhandsshifted,roamingmychestandtrailingdownmyribs.Shepressedherpalmsagainstmyback,flatteningthemagainstmymusclesassheslidthemtomypants.ThenshetuckedherhandsintomybackpocketsandgavemyassahardkneadasInippedatthecornerofhermouth.
Wekissedlikewewereinherbedroom,notakitchen.Wekissedliketherewasnotomorrow,suckingandlickinguntilourmouthswereswollenandwet.UntilshewasbreathlessandIwasrockhard,achingtofeelherpulsearoundmycock.
Itoremymouthaway,chestheaving,anddrownedinhersapphireeyes.“Hey,Blue.”
MyBlue.Foralittlewhilelonger.
“Hi,”shewhispered.
Ileanedmyforeheadagainsthers.“Itwillbehardtowalkawayfromyou.”
Hereyesclosedasshesighed.“Itwillbehardtowatchyouwalkaway.”
Butshewould.She’dletmego.
Shewouldn’taskmetostay.
Therewassomuchshestilldidn’tknow.SomuchIwasn’tsurehowtoexplain.
Yetsomehow,sheknewIcouldn’tstayinQuincy.
Thebestpartabouther?Shewouldn’task,becauseshewouldn’tmakemetellherno.
Fuck,butIlovedthatabouther.
Theemotionsfromtoday,fromthistrip,swirledlikeaviolentstorm.SoIblockedoutthenoise,IsilenceditallbykissingLylaagain.Themomentmymouthwasonhers,theworldwentquiet.Theonlyemotionthatmatteredwasdesire.
“Oh,um…sorry.”
LylabrokeawayatCrystal’svoice.
Busted.
Shegiggled.
Thesoundwassopureandinnocent,sohappy,thatIclosedmyeyes,bottlingitupforthedarkdaysahead.
Lyla’shandcametohermouthassheleanedtothesideandglancedpastmyarm.“It’sfine,Crystal.Wewerejust,uh…”
Makingout.WhenitcametoLyla,Iwaslikearandyteenager,desperatetohaveherbeneathmyhands.
Lylaclearedherthroat,steppingaroundme.“Idon’tthinkyoutwohaveofficiallymet.Vance,thisisCrystal.Crystal,thisisVance.”
Iturnedenoughtogiveheranodbutnotenoughtorevealthebulgestrainingmyzipper.“Nicetomeetyou.”
“Youtoo.Sorry.Iwasgoingtogetthebroomanddustpan,butI’lljust…”Crystaldisappearedashersentencetrailedoff.
“OhmyGod.”Lylalaughedagain,thenwipedherlipsdry.“Thatwasarguablyworsethanthetimemydadcaughtmekissingmyboyfriendinthebackseatofhiscarmysenioryearofhighschool.”
Iheldupafinger.“Nomoretalkaboutthehighschoolboyfriend.”
Shelaughed,thoseprettyeyesdancing.“Howwasyourhike?”
“Fine.”I’dtellherlateritwasthelast.Later,afterI’dbracedmyselftoseethatlightdiminhereyes.“I’llletyougetbacktowork.”
“Areyouleaving?”
Notyet.“I’mgoingtogetsomecoffee.Eatsomething.”
“Crystalisleavinginaboutanhour.Shehasafamilythingtonight,soI’llhavetoclose.Butsinceit’sSunday,itwillbeearlierthannormal.”
“I’llhangoutuntilyou’redone.”Justlikelastnight.Andallthenightsthispastweek.WhenIdrovetoherhouse,itwouldbetofollowherhomeandcarryhertobed.
“Okay.”Hershouldersfell,reliefwashingoverherexpression.“I’llmakeusdinnerlater.”
“OrIcancook.”
Shearchedaneyebrow.
“Idoknowhowtocook.”
“Allright,Sutter.”Shecameoverandtuggedonmycoat,mysigntobendsoshecouldhaveherkiss.“You’reon.”
Ichuckledandleftherinthekitchen,knowingI’djusttrulyfuckedmyself.ComparedtoLyla,Iwasashitcook.ButI’dmakehergrilledcheeseorscrambledeggs.
Afteranorgasm.
Mytablewasempty,likeitalwayswas.Itwascolderbythewindows,probablywhymostchosetositdeeperinthecafé.Finebyme.
Iswungbythecounter,orderedacoffeeandalmondpoppyseedmuffin,thenretreatedtomychairtostareoutthefrontwindows.
Themapswereinmybackpack,lockedinmytruck.Ididn’tneedthemanymore
Myphonevibratedinmypocketwithatext.Itookitout.Alec.
Areyoubackhome?
Itypedoutmyreply.
Notquite
Alechadsentmeafewtextsinthepastweeks,checkingtoseeifI’dfoundanytrailofCormac.Ourexchangeshadbeenbrief.
OnceIgothome,we’dgooutforabeer.I’dfillhiminonwhathadhappenedhere.Well,mostofwhathadhappened.
Lyla,I’dkeeptomyself.She’dbemineandminealone.
Iwasjustputtingmyphonedownonthetablewhenaflashofredoutthewindowcaughtmyeye.LikeIhadforfouryears,thatgingerhairsnaredmyattention.
Awomanpassedthewindow.Thecurtainofherhairhidmostofherfeatures.Most,butnotall.Itdidn’thidethehighcheekbones.Thestraightnose.Thefamiliarchinandunsmilingmouth.
“Whatthe…”
Iknewthatface.
Iflewoutofmychair,standingsofastthatthebacksofmykneessentitscrapingacrossthefloor.
Thewomanoutsidewasgoneinablink.Sofastitwaslikeshehadn’tbeentheretobeginwith.
No.No,itcouldn’tbeher.Shewasdead.Inmymind,Iknewshewasdead.Butfuck,theresemblancewasuncanny.
“Vance?”Lylarushedover,acoffeepotinhand.
“Onesec.”Iheldupafinger,roundingthetable.
Curiosity,thatredhair,gotthebetterofme,likeithadforfouryears.SoIwalkedtothedoor,rippingitopenasIhurriedoutside.
Ineededacloserlook.Ineededtogetthatfaceoutofmydamnmind.
Excepttherewasnoredheadedwomanonthesidewalk.Whoevershewas,shewasgone.
Ijoggedtothenearestcorner,searchingthesidestreet.Empty.Ispuninaslowcircle,lookingeverywhere,forahintofthatred.Bythejewelrystore.Thehotel.Thebank.Nothing
Therewasnoredhead.TheonlywomanonthesidewalkwasLyla.
“Vance.”Shejoggedmywayfromthecoffeeshop,herbreathbillowing.Shewasn’twearingacoat,soIshruggedoutofmine,drapingitaroundhershoulders.
“Wearthis.”
“Whatisit?What’swrong?”
“Nothing.It’snothing.”Justmelosingmyfuckingmind.Iscrubbedahandovermyface,thensighed.“I’mjust…seeingghosts.”CHAPTERSEVENTEENLYLA
Thedeadboltflippedwithathunk.Withthatsound,myshouldersdroppedfrommyears.
I’dwantedtoshutdowntheshopforhourssoIcouldtalktoVanceaboutwhathadhappenedearlier,whathadsenthimracingoutthedoor.ButI’dhadtobidemytimeuntilclosing.Finally,wewerealone.
Iturnedoffthelights,notbotheringtomopthefloorsorwipedowntables—I’ddoitinthemorning.Theworkcouldwait.
Vancestrodeoutofthekitchen,hisbroadframelimnedbythedimlight.“Whataboutcleaning?”
Afewnightsspentworkingwithmehereandhe’dalreadylearnedmyroutine.
“I’lldoittomorrow.”Imethimbehindthecounter,walkingrightintohisspacetoputmyhandsonhiships.“Hey.”
“Hey.”Hetuckedalockofhairbehindmyear,hisgazetracingdownmynosebeforehedroppedhislipstomine.ThemomentIopenedforhim,hesuckedmytongueintohismouth.
I’dexpectedachastekiss,andhisurgencytookmeoffguard.
Hishandsrakeddownmyback,slidingtocupmyass.
Withahandplantedonhisheart,Igavehimasmallshove,enoughthathetorehismouthaway.Buthejustmovedhiskissfrommylipstomypulse.
“Weshouldtalk,”Ibreathed,threadingmyhandsintohishair.
Heignoredmeandsweptmeoffmyfeetwithaquickhoistintohisarms.Withaspin,heturnedandwalkedustothecounter,settingmeonitssurface.Thenhelickedtheseamofmylips,elicitingalowmoaninmychestasdesirepooledinmycore.
Thiswasjustanothertacticforchangingthesubject.“Vance.”
“Lyla,”hemurmured,trailinghismouthalongmyjaw,thatbeardleavingadeliciousscrapeagainstmysmoothskin.
Myheadlolledtothesideasmyfingerscontinuedtotugandpullathisthick,unrulystrands.“Talktome.”
“Notyet,Blue.”Hepulledmyearlobebetweenhisteeth.
Mybreathhitched.
Goddamnit,Iwasgoingtocave.Ialwayscaved.
I’dlethimhavehiswaywithmybodyandtheimportantconversationswouldgounspoken.LiketheshootingWinnhadmentioned.Likewhateverhadhappenedtoday.Likewhoeverhe’dthoughthe’dseenonthesidewalk.
“Haveyoueverbeenfuckedonthiscounter?”Hisgravellyvoicewasthickwithwant.
Igulped.“No.”
“ThenI’mtakingit.Whenyoucometoworkeveryday,Iwantyouthinkingaboutmeinsideyou.”
He’dleavehismark,andI’dneverrecover.He’dchangethisplaceforever
AndIwasgoingtolethim.
MaybeI’dregretitsomeday.MaybewhenImetthemanI’dmarry—ifImetthatman—I’dregretlettingVanceclaimthisspace.
Buttonight,IjustwantedtohavesomethingfromhimI’dneverforget.SoIreachedbetweenusandunfastenedthebuttononhisjeans,workingthezipperfreesoIcoulddiveintohisboxerbriefs.ThemomentIfistedhisshaft,ahissescapedhislips.
“Nogoingback,”hewarned.
IlovedhimforknowingI’drememberhim.Ilovedhimforgivingmeachancetostopandsavethisforsomeoneelse.
Ihatedhimforexpectingthere’devenbeasomeoneelse.
Withmyfreehand,Ifistedhisshirt,grippingitashardasIhadhiscock.ThenIhauledhismouthtomine.Nowitwasmyturntoshuthimup.
Idelvedinside,exploringeverycornerofhismouth.Leavingmyownmarkandmemory.Ikissedhimwitheverybitofloveandhatethatcoursedthroughmyveins.
Goodlucktothewomanwhocamenext.She’dhaveherworkcutoutforhertoerasemefromhismind.
Histonguetangledwithmineashetoreatmyjeans,somehowworkingthemoffmyhipswhilekeepingmefromfallingoffthecounter.Thenwhenyetanotherpairofpantieswereshreddedonthefloor,hepositionedhimselfatmyentranceandthrusthome.
“Vance,”Icriedout,myvoicefillingthedarkspace.
“Fuck,”hegrittedout.
Iwasalreadytrembling,myinnerwallsfluttering.
Hisgazedriftedovermyshoulder,soIfollowedit,lookingtothewindowsthatoverlookedthestreet.
Wewereshroudedindarkness,hiddenfromanyonepassingby.Butifsomeonestopped,iftheylookedcloseenough,they’dseeustogether.Mypussyclenched.
“Youwantsomeonetoseeus,Blue?”
Myeyeswhippedtohis.
“Youwantsomeonetowalkby,stopattheglassandleanin,justabit,don’tyou?Maybetheycuptheirhandsovertheireyestoseeinside.”Hepulledout,thenpistonedhishipsforwardagain.“Youwantsomeonetowatchmefuckyou.”
Imoaned.
“Sayit,Lyla.”
“Yes,”Iwhispered.
“Closeyoureyes.”
Iobeyed,losingmyselfinthefeelofhimslideinandout.
“Thisismine.”Hereachedbetweenus,hisfingerfindingmyclit.
“Oh,God.”Thoseslow,perfectcircleshealoneknewhowtodrawwouldbemyundoing.
“Youcanthinkaboutsomestrangerwatchingustogether,butyou’remine,Lyla.Tokiss.Tofuck.”
Iwhimperedashisfingermovedfaster,myorgasmbuildingfasterandfaster.
“Sayit.Sayyou’remine.”
“No.”HowdidIpromisemyselftohimwhenhewasleaving?
“Sayit,Lyla.”
Ishookmyhead.
Vanceletoutafrustratedgroan.“Blue.”
Iopenedmyeyes,hisgazewaiting.
Herockedforward,hiscockfindingthatspotsodeepinsideitmademefeellikeI’dbeenputonthisearthforhimandhimalone.“Please.”
Alltheseweeksandhe’dmademesayplease.Tobegforanorgasm.Eachtime,ithadbeendrivenbydesire.Butthisplease,hisplease,wasdifferent.Desperate.
Thispleasemadetearswellinmyeyes.
SoIcuppedhischeek.“Yours.Onlyyours.”
Heslammedhismouthonmine,swallowingmygasp.Thenhemovedfaster,bringingustogetheruntiltheonlysoundwasourbodiescolliding,ourbreathsragged.
Icameonacry,myshoutechoingoffthewalls.Hewasclosetofollow,pouringlongandhotinsidemybody.AndasIcollapsed,bonelessagainsthischest,hisarmswrappedaroundmelikechains.
God,Iwantedtocry.Whydidhehavetoleave?WhydidhehavetohavethislifebeyondQuincy?ThislifeIknewnothingabout?
TearsthreatenedagainbutIsqueezedmyeyesclosed,refusingtocry.Notyet.I’dcrywhenhewasgone.Itseemedsilly,wastingthelittletimewehadleftontears.
SoIclungtohim,myfaceburiedinthecrookofhisnecktodraginthatfresh,earthyscent.Iheldtightuntilwe’dbothregainedourbreathandhepulledback,tuckinghimselfawaybeforehelpingmeoffthecounterandintomyjeans.
“Youokay?”heasked.
“Areyou?”
Hedidn’tanswer.
“Vance?”Iwhispered.“Talktome.Whathappenedearlier?”
“I’mlosingmyfuckingmind.”Hesighed,draggingahandthroughhishair.Thenhehoistedmeupagain,puttingmeonthecounter.Hepacedthelengthofthecounter.Twice.“IthoughtIsawCormac’sdaughter.”
Hisdaughter?Hadn’thekilledher?
Vancestoppedmoving,givingmeasadsmile.“She’sdead.Iknowshe’sdead.”
Thewayhisvoicecrackedonthatawfulword.Dead.Myhandcametomychest.
“SometimesIseeredhairanditmakesmethinkit’soneofhisgirls.Iknowit’snot,butthegriefis…itjustnevergoesaway.”Herubbedahandoverhisheart,likehewastryingtoerasethepain.“Hisoldestwouldhavebeentwenty-one.Icouldhavetakenheroutforabeer.Maybeshe’dbeincollege.Thetwinswouldhavebeenfourteen.”
Atfourteen,TaliaandIwouldhavebeenfreshmeninhighschool.Wewouldhavebeenworriedaboutacneandwhichboywouldaskustowinterformal.
Vancedidn’ttellmetheirnames.Wasthatbecausetheyweretoohardtospeak?
“Whatweretheylike?”Iasked.
“Theywerelights.”Heswallowedhard,hisAdam’sapplebobbing.“Thetwinswereapersonality.Individually.Together.Theyownedeveryroomtheyentered.Itwasimpossiblenottosmilewhentheywerearound.Theyweredramaticandhadtheseimaginations.You’veneverseensuchimagination.They’dmakeupthesestoriesandactthemoutoverdinners,completewithcostumesandmakeup.”
Ateardrippeddownmycheek.HowwasitpossibletocryoverkidsI’dnevermet?Butthelove,theloss,inVance’svoicewasoverwhelming.
“Cormac’soldestwasmyfavorite.”Hemetmygazeandthegriefinhiseyesbrokemyheartintoathousandpieces.“Youwouldhavelovedher,Blue.Shehadthisenergy.Itwascontagious.Shewasalwaysonthemove.Alwaysreadyforthenextthing,likeifshesatstill,she’dperish.AndGod,shewassweet.WheneverIsawher,she’drunforwardandthrowherarmswide,yelling,‘UncleVance,’atthetopofherlungs.Shelovedherpeople.Iwasoneofherpeople.”
UncleVance.
He’dbeagooduncle.“Idon’tknowwhattosay,”Iwhispered.“I’msosorry.”
“Youdon’thavetosayanything.You’relistening.”
OfcourseIwaslistening.Whydidhesaythatlikeitwassomebigdeal?Didpeopleinhislifenotlistentohim?Orwasthisthefirsttimehe’dshared?
“Theyweremyfamily,”hesaid.
AndCormachadstolenthemaway.Themotherfucker.
“Hedrownedthem,Lyla.”Vancerakedhishandsthroughhishair.“Hesnuffedoutthelights.Howcouldhedothat?Howcouldhetakeawaymyfamily?”
Thetearswereconstantnow,impossibletocatch.“Whataboutyourfamily?”
Hestartedpacingagain,backandforth.HefollowedthesamepathI’dwalkedamilliontimes,fromtheespressomachinetotheshelfwhereIkeptextracoffeemugs.Backandforth.Backandforth.Witheverystep,everyturn,myhopessankfurther.
Thiswaswhenhe’dchangethesubject.Thiswaswhenhe’dtakemyclothesoffagain,anythingtoescapesharing.
SoIglancedaroundmydarkcoffeeshop,takinginthewallsashewalked.
Thisplacewasspecial.Whenpeoplesteppedinsidemybuilding,theysharedsecrets.Theyconfidedstruggleswithfriendsandfamily.Theycelebratedachievementsorengagements.I’doverheardmorethanonepregnancyannouncement.
TheonlypersonwhoseemedimmunetothemagicofEdenCoffeewasVanceSutter.
Iwasabouttohopoffthecounter,tocallthisnightover,whenhestoppedsosuddenlyIfroze.
Hisshouldersfell.Hischindropped.Thenhewalkedovertothecounterandtookaseatinthespacebesidemine.Hislegsweresolonghedidn’thavetohopup.Hejustsatbesideme,ourthighstouching.
“Ihavethreesisters.Ihaven’tspokentotheminsixyears.”
Sixyears?Myjawdropped.Theideaofnottalkingtomysiblingswasunfathomable.Sure,we’dargue,butwealwaysmadeamends.Always.“Whathappened?”
“I’mtheoldest.Andreaisayearyounger.Rochelleissixyearsyounger,andJacieiseight.Becauseoftheagegap,AndreaandIwerealwaystheclosest.Askids,we’dgoonadventurestogether,buildingfortsandhideoutsinourbackyard.Westayedtight,allthroughhighschool.Shewasmylittlesister.Alltheguysknewiftheyfuckedwithher,theyfuckedwithme.I’mguessingGriffinandKnoxwerethesameway.”
“Protective?Yeah,theywere.Mateotoo.”Eventhoughhewasthelittlebrother,everyoneinQuincyknewthatifyoumessedwithTalia,EloiseorLylaEden,there’dbehelltopay.
“AndreawenttocollegeinArizona,”hesaid.“Wedidn’tlosetouch,butwelostthatcloseness.Shemetaguy,Brandon,andcamehomehersenioryearengaged.TheygotmarriedrightaftergraduationandmovedhometoIdaho.”
“Youdidn’tlikehim,”Iguessed.
“Hewasn’twhoI’dpickforher,butIkeptmymouthshut.”
“Whatdidn’tyoulike?”
“Atfirst,itwaslittlethings.He’dtellherwhatnottowear.Whatnottoeat.Theninsteadofwhatnottodo,exactlywhattodo.Hedictatesherentirelife.Howshestylesherhair.Whereshegoeseachday.Andhe’sgotherconvincedit’sforherowngood.Thatheloveshersomuchit’sokaywhenhepunchesherandcracksherribs.”
Igasped,myeyesclosing.“OhmyGod.”
“Shehiditwellforalongtime.That,orhedidn’tstartbeatingheruntilthey’dbeenmarriedforawhile.Butwe’dplantomeetforcoffeeorlunchandshe’dbesick.She’dhideherselfawayuntilthebruisesfaded.”
“How’dyoufindout?”
“Sixyearsago,atChristmas,theyshowedupatMomandDad’s.Shehadablackeye.Didherbesttocoveritupbut…”
“Somebruisesarehardtohide.”Iknewfromrecentexperiencethatatubeofconcealeronlywentsofar.
“Ilostmyever-lovingmindandbeattheshitoutofBrandon.”Vance’svoicedrippedwithvenomashespokethatasshole’sname.“Thatfuckercalledthecops.Hewasabusingmysisterandhehadmearrestedforassault.”
“Shit.”
“Prettymuch,”hemuttered.“Needlesstosay,thatdidn’tbodewellformycareer.ButCormacsteppedin.Talkedtothecaptain.Askedalawyerfriendforafavor.Helpedmegetitworkedout.Iearnedablackmarkonmyrecord,butIkeptmyjob.AndAndreaconvincedBrandontodropit.”
“Didsheleavehim?”
“Nope.”Vanceshookhishead.“Ithoughtshewould.Aftereveryonelearnedaboutwhathe’dbeendoing,Iwassureshe’dgetaway.Butshestayed.Hetoldherhowmuchhelovedher.Hepromisedhe’dchangeandgethelp.”
“Didhe?”
“No.ThreemonthsafterthatwehadabirthdaydinnerformynieceatMomandDad’s.Andreawaslimping.WhenIaskedheraboutit,shesaidshetwistedherankleonajog.Thenfifteenminuteslater,IoverheardhertalkingtoJacie.Saidsheslippedonawetspotinthekitchen.”
Sothatbastardwasstillabusingher.“Whataboutyourparents?”
“AndreahaschosenBrandon.Andliketheabuserheis,he’sdoneeverythinghecantoalienateherfromherfriendsandourfamily.Toisolateher.Butsomehow,Mom,Dad,JacieandRochellehaveclungtoher.They’vestoodbesidehersothatshe’snotalone.They’llkissBrandon’sass.Inaway,Ithinkthey’veconvincedthemselveshe’snotsobad.Thathe’snothurtingher.Maybethatpartistrue.Ihopeitis,atleast.TheydidwhattheyneededtodotokeepAndreaclosesothatifsheeverdoesdecidetoleavehim,she’sgotsupport.It’snotthatIdon’twanttobealifelineforher,butit’snotanoptionrightnow.”
“Why?”Iasked.
“ItwaspartofthedealAndreamadewithBrandontogethimtodroptheassaultcharges.I’mnotapartofherlife.HegaveAndreaanultimatum.Theassaultchargesorshecutmeout.”
SoAndreahadchosentostandupforVance.Yetindoingso,he’dlosthisfamily.
“Inevershouldhavegoneafterthatsonofabitch.”Vanceshookhishead.“Ifuckedup.”
“Ithinkalotofolderbrotherswouldhavedonethesame.”Mineincluded.
Vanceshookhishead,likehecouldn’tbelievethiswastheoutcome.Icouldn’tquiteeither.“Iarguedagainstitforalongtime.TriedtoconvinceeveryonethatwhatreallyneededtohappenwasforAndreatoleaveBrandon.Eventually,thatarguingcreatedarift,especiallywithMomandmysisters.”
“Whataboutyourdad?”
“Hesupportsmymotherandmysisters.Wetext.Talkeverynowandthen,butit’sshallow.IlethimknowwhereI’mat.Checkin.Buthedoesn’tlikebeinginthemiddle,andpushcomestoshove,he’sonMom’sside.Theywon’tcuttieswithAndrea.SheneedsthemmorethanIdo.I’vemadepeacewiththat.Ihaven’tactuallyseenDadinoverayear.”
Ayear?Icouldn’timaginenotseeingmyfatherinoverayear.
“AndreaandBrandonhaveadaughter.Rochellehastwogirls.Jaciehastwoboys.IsendbirthdaypresentseventhoughIdon’tgetinvitestothepartiesanymore.SamewithChristmas.Andrea’sdaughterisintodance.DadusedtoemailmeherrecitaltimesandI’dgo,sneakin,sitaloneandwatch.Butaboutayearago,Brandonsawme.MustnothavelikeditbecausethatwasthelasttimeIknewaboutarecital.”
Ileanedintohisside,lettingmyheadfalltohisshoulder.“Fortherecord,Idon’tthinkyoufuckedupbykickingthatbastard’sass.ButI’msorryit’sturnedoutthisway.”
“Thanks.”Vanceputhishandonmyknee.
Itwassounfair.He’dlosthisactualfamily,thenhe’dlostCormac’s.
God,Iwantedtoholdhim.TohaulhimintotheEdenfamilyfold,becausewhileweweren’tperfect,myparentsandsiblingsbelievedinfamily.Totheend.
Instead,he’dleaveandgobacktoIdaho.
StupidIdaho.
Vanceshifted,hookinghisfingerbeneathmychin,tiltingupmyfaceuntilwewerestaringateachother.“Lyla,Ihaveafuckingmessathome.AsmuchasIwanttoignoreit…”
“Youcan’t.”Isighed.
Sohe’dleavetofaceit.Tocleanupthatmess.Alone.
“It’smorethanjustmyfamily,”hesaid.
Itwasalsotheshooting,wasn’tit?“Whathappened?”
“Howmanystoriesdoyouwanttonight?”
Iputmyhandinhisandlacedourfingerstogether.“Asmanyasyou’lltellme.”CHAPTEREIGHTEENVANCE
WheredidIevenstart?
Everyoneathomeknewwhathadhappenedatthegasstation,evenmyfamily.NotbecauseI’dtoldthemmyself.No,they’dbeenlikeeveryotherpersoninCoeurd’Alene.They’dreadabouttheshootinginthenewspaper.
Tiffincluded.She’dbeenpissedashellatmefornottellinghermyself.ButtheonlypeopleI’dspokentowereinthesheriff’sdepartment:thecaptainandthedeputyhe’dputinchargeoftheinvestigation.
Theideaofexplainingitallmademygutchurn.PartofmewantedtosweepLylaoffthiscounter,loadherintomytruckanddriveherhome,spendtherestofthenightworshipingherbody.Butshedeservedtoknowthewholetruth.ShedeservedtoknowwhyIhadtogohomeandfacewhateverfatewaswaiting.
ShedeservedtoknowwhyIwaswalkingaway.
“YouaskedmeawhileagoifI’veevershotsomeone.”
Lylanodded.“Twice,yousaid.”
“I’lltellyouaboutit.ButIalsoknowwhathappenedatthehotel.WithEloise.WithWinn.Ifyou’drather—”
“I’dliketoknow.”
Soshe’dknow.She’dhearitfrommylips.
“AbouttwoweeksbeforeIcametoQuincy,Iwasoutonarunonemorning.Itwasprobablyfive.Dark.Quiet.OndayswhenI’mnotworking,Itrytogoforarunorhitthegym.”
“Tostayinshapeforwork?”
Iliftedashoulder.“Partly.AndifI’mbeingtotallyhonest,theearlymorningworkoutswereagoodexcusetoavoidTiff.”
“Tiffisyourex?”
“Yeah.She’sagoodwoman.Butthingsbetweenushavebeenroughforawhile.”Ratherthantalk,ithadbeeneasiertojustavoidher.There’dbeennourgentneedtojustbeinhercompany,notliketherewaswithLyla.
SoI’dfindexcusestoavoidthehouse.I’dtakeextrashifts.I’dgofishingorhiking.AndthemorningswhenIwasn’tworking,I’dgoforalongrun,makingsuretostaygonelongenoughthatshe’dhavealreadyleftforworkbythetimeIreturnedhome.
Itwasn’tshockingthatTiffhadleft.
Whatsurprisedmemostwashowlongshe’dstayed.
ThoughmaybeifIhadn’tbeensuchafuckingcoward,avoidingmygirlfriend,Iwouldn’thavebeenatthatgasstation.
“Howlongwereyoutogether?”Lylaasked.
“Threeyears.”
“Oh.”Lylastiffened.Maybefromjealousy.MaybefromfearthatIwasusinghertogetoveranex.
“IcaredforTiff,likeIsaid,she’sagoodwoman.ButIneverlovedher,notthewayshelovedme.AndIshouldhavecalleditoffsooner.Weweren’tgoodtogether.”
Tiffhadmovedinwithmeayearago,andI’dknownwithintwomonthsthatithadbeenamistake.
“Shedoesn’tunderstandwhyI’dratherspendmydaysinthemountainsthanworkinginanofficejobwiththedepartmentsoIcouldkeepaneight-to-fiveschedule.ShelovesgettingdressedupandgoingoutonFridaynightswhileI’mcontenttostayhomeandreadabook.Wearejustverydifferentpeople.AndshehatesthatI’vekepttryingtofindCormacafteralltheseyears.ShethinksIshouldletitgo.”
Lylalookedup,waitinguntiloureyeslocked.Thenshegavemeasmallsmile.Nowords,justasmile.Sheunderstood.SheknewwhyIneededtofindCormac.
Closure.Vengeance.Justice.
Lylawouldneveraskmetostop,wouldshe?
“Soyouwereoutforarun,”shesaid.
“Iwasoutforarun.”MaybeIshouldquitrunning.SexwithLylaseemedlikeamuchbetteralternativeforcardio.
“There’sagasstationaboutfivemilesfrommyplace.It’ssmall.Sooldthatthepumpsdon’thavecreditcardreaders.It’snotinthebestareaoftown,butImettheowneryearsago.HehadanoldermodelFordRangerforsale.Cormacboughtitforhisoldestwhensheturnedsixteen.Iwentwithhimtopickitupsohecouldsurpriseherforherbirthday.”
I’dneverforgetthewayshe’dshriekedforjoywhenCormachadgivenherthekeystothatoldtruck.
Aftershe’ddied,I’dbeenthepersontosellthatpickup.Ithadbeenoneoftheworstdaysofmylife.
“ThemanhaggledwithCormacfortwentyminutesbeforetheyagreedonaprice.Meanwhile,Ispentthosetwentyminutesinsidethegasstation,pickingoutcandyforthetwins.”
Elsiehadbeenallaboutthechocolate.Hadley,anythingcinnamon.
“Imettheguy’swifewhileIwasshopping.Shewasworkingthecashregister.NeverinmylifehaveImetapersonwhocouldfillfiveminuteswithsomanywords.Sheandherhusbandhadownedthegasstationforfifteenyears.Theirdaughterhadjustdroppedoutofcollegeandwasworkingtheretoo.ShewasaScorpio,andanonlychildtoparentswho’dmovedtoIdahofromAtlanta.Shewasallergictoshellfishandhadathyroidcondition.BythetimeIwalkedoutthedoor,Ihadherwholelifestory.”
Lylaleanedherheadonmyshoulderagain.Shefitsoperfectlyagainstmeitmadetalkingeasier.Noteasy,buteasier.“Youlikedher.”
“Immediately.Afewdayslater,whenIgotupearlyforarun,Iheadedthatdirection.It’sbeenmyrouteforyearsnow.Somemornings,she’sworking.Othertimes,it’sherhusbandorherdaughter,Celeste.”
Celestewasn’tchattylikehermother.Shewasn’tascheerfuleither,especiallyatfiveinthemorning.Butshewasaniceperson.Andafteryearsofrunningtothatgasstation,I’dlearnedplentyabouthertoo.Likethereasonwhyshe’ddroppedoutofcollege.
Itwasn’tthatCelestehadn’tenjoyedschool.She’dquittohelpherparentsrunthebusinessafterherfather’ssecondheartattack.
“She’dbeenworkingmoreoftenthannot.Herdad’shealthwasonthedecline.Normally,thattimeofday,Iwastheonlypersoninthestore.Thedayoftheshooting,Iwasagainstthebackwall,hiddenfromthefrontdoorbydisplayshelves.I’djustpickedoutabottleofwaterfromthecoolerwhenIheardthedooropen.ThenthisguystartedscreamingatCelestetogivehimthemoneyfromthecashregister.”
“Shegotrobbed?”
“Thatwastheplan.”
“Youstoppedhim?”
Thewayshesaiditmademesoundlikeahero.Iwasnohero.Justaguyoutforarunwhoknewhowtofireaweapon.
“Isnuckupbehindtheguy.Hewasyoung.Tooyoungtobeholdingagun.HehaditaimedrightinCeleste’sface.Shewasshaking,tryingtotakethemoneyfromtheregister.Andhejustkeptscreamingather.Everytimeheyelled,she’dflinchanddropmoneyonthefloor.”
HisownnoisewastheonlyreasonI’dbeenabletomakeitupanaisle.He’dbeenyellingandcursingandcallingheradumbfuckingcuntwhenevershe’ddropsomething.Whenshe’dbendtopickupthemoneyhewanted,he’dshoutevenlouderforhertokeepherhandsup.
“Celestesawmecoming.Shelookedovertheguy’sshoulder,andwhenshedid,hetrackedhergazeandspunaround.Bythatpoint,Iwascloseenoughtotacklehimtothefloor.Thegunwentoff,butthebulletwentthroughawall.”
Lylaletoutalongbreath.“AndCeleste?”
“Unharmed,”Isaid.“Physically.”
Emotionallyandfinancially,whoknewhowthey’drecover.BeforeI’dcometoMontana,I’dheardthatthey’dclosedthegasstation.AccordingtoGoogle,itwascurrentlylistedforsale.Iwasn’tsureifanyonewouldbuyit,notnow,notinthatneighborhood.ButforCelesteandherparents’sake,Ihopeditwouldsell.
“Igotthegunoutoftheguy’shand.Tuckeditinthewaistbandofmypants.ThenItoldCelestetocall9-1-1.”
EachtimeIreplayedthatmorning,Istillwasn’tsurewheneverythinghadgonesowrong.HowI’dmissedtheshoutfromoutsideuntilitwastoolate.
“Theguywasn’talone,”ItoldLyla.“Thereweretwoofthem.Onetocomeinside.Theothertodrive.Iwasstillonaknee,holdingthefirstguydown,whenthedoorflewopen.Hisfriendfromoutsidemusthavenoticedsomethingwaswrong,andhecameinwithhisowngun,aimedforCeleste.Ijust…reacted.”
Onemoment,thatguy’sgunwastuckedagainstmyspine.Thenext,itwasinmyhands.
“Ishottheotherguyinthechest,andhejustdropped”—Isnappedmyfingers—“likethat.Thegunhehadwasn’tevenloaded.”
“Butyoucouldn’thaveknownthat.Youdidwhatyouthoughtwasbest.”
No,I’dreactedsolelyontrainingandinstinct.Notalotofthoughthadgoneintomyreaction.“He’salive.”
Lylasatstraight.“Helived?”
“Imissedhisheart.ItwasanoddanglefromwhereIwasonthefloor.Thebulletwentthroughhischestandintohisspine.He’llspendtherestofhislifeinawheelchairasaquadriplegic.”
Paralyzedfromtheneckdown.
“He’ssixteen,Lyla.Hewastheotherguy’syoungerbrother.AndIstoleanychancehehasatanormallife.”
“Youmadetherightchoice,”shesaid.
“DidI?”Ifithadbeenright,everythingelsehadgonewrong.“Thekids’parentshavealawyer.They’replanningonsuingmeorthesheriff’sdepartmentorCeleste.Hell,maybethey’llsueusall.It’safuckingcluster.”
Lylascoffed.“Theywanttosueyou?That’sbullshit.Whatwereyousupposedtodo?LetthemrobCeleste?Shoother?Shootyou?”
“Idon’tknow.”Isighed.“ButI’mbeinginvestigated.”
“What?”Lylajumpedoffthecounter,turningtofacemewithhereyeswideandjawslackened.“You’rekidding.”
“WishIwas,Blue.”
“Idon’tunderstand.Howisthisyourfault?”Shebeganpacing,herpaththesameasmineearlier.
“Mybossisacaptainwhowantstobecomeundersheriff.”
“Okay,”shedrawled.“Whatdoesthatmean?”
“Heneedsdeputieswhodon’tmakewaves.”
AndIdidnothingbutchurnthewaters.
“ThecaptainlovedCormac.It’sthereasonIdidn’tlosemybadgeafterallthatshitthathappenedwithBrandon.Cormacwenttobatformeandthecaptainhelpedsmoothitout.”
“ButthenCormac…”Lyladidn’tneedtofinishthatsentence.
Cormacwentoffthegoddamnrails.“Thingsbetweenmeandthecaptainhavebeenstrainedeversince.Whenhelooksatme,heseesCormac’sbestfriend.Cormac’spartner.Heseesthetrustheshouldn’thavegiven.It’sstrange.WebothhateCormacforwhathedid.You’dthinkthatwouldbringustogether.Butit’sbeentheopposite.”
WithCormacgone,Iwastheonlyguyforthecaptaintoblame.
“Ihaven’texactlybeenthemostreliabledeputy,”Iadmitted.“IfIgotwindofaleadonCormac,I’ddropeverythingandtakeoff,usuallywithoutgivinganynotice.I’veusedeveryminuteofvacationtime.I’vegotnosickdaysleft.SoIwasn’tongreattermstobeginwith.Thentheshootinghappened.”
“Hecan’tblameyouforthat,Vance.”
“No,heblamesmeforthetroublethatcameafterward.”Themediaattention.Thepotentiallawsuits.
Mytemper.
“WhenIgotthenewsthatthekidwasparalyzed,Ididn’texactlytakeitwell.Iwasatthestation.Captaincalledmeintohisoffice.Toldmetotakeafewdaysoff.SoIwenttograbafewthingsfrommylocker.Anotherdeputywasinthere.Madeacommentaboutmebeingtriggerhappy.”
“Asshole,”Lylamuttered.
“That’swhatIsaid.ThenIbrokehisnose.”
“Ooh.”Shewinced.“I’mguessingthatdidn’tgooverwellwithyourboss.”
“Insteadofafewdaysoff,hetoldmetotakeabreakuntiltheinvestigationfortheshootingisover.I’mnotofficiallyfired.Istillhavemybadge.ButI’mnotwelcomeeither.”
Lylastoppedpacing,plantingherhandsonherhips.“Youdidwhatyouhadtodo.”
Anyothercopwouldhavedonethesamething,regardlessiftheywereondutyoroutforarun.There’dbeennowaytoknowthatthekid’sgunhadbeenempty.“ButIstillregretpullingthetrigger.”
“Sowhathappensnow?”
“Iwaitfortheoutcomeoftheinvestigation,”Isaid.“Morethanlikely,I’llbecleared.Butifthecaptainwantsmegone,he’llfindawaytomakethathappen.Eitherbysittingmeatadesk,knowingI’dhateeveryminuteofit.Orbymakingsomeexcusetoletmego,likehe’sdownsizingthedepartment.”
“Thenhe’sanassholetoo,”shemuttered.Shewasn’twrong.“Whatifthatfamilysuesyou?”
“Withanyluck,thatwon’thappen.Butifitdoes,Ihirealawyer.Gofromthere.”
I’dfightformyreputation.Formyname.
Lyla’smolarsgroundtogethersohardIcouldhearthemclenching.Thenwithahuff,shestartedpacingagain.“Thisisafuckingmess.”
Yes.Yes,itwas.
AndnowsheknewwhyIhadtogobacktoIdaho.
“It’snotfair.”Shethrewanarmintheair,herangerpalpable.Fuck,butIlikedthat.Thatshe’dgetwounduponmybehalf.
Tiffhadn’t.Notonce.She’dbeenupset,worried.Butneverangry.
Lylahadarighttobeangry.Andgoddamnit,sodidI.
Forweeks,I’dkeptithidden.I’dlashedoutonce,inthatlockerroom,andithadbasicallycostmemyjob.SoI’dkeptitin.I’dtuckedthosefeelingsaway.I’drefusedtotalkabouttheshootingbecauseIwasangry.
OrIhadbeen.SomethingaboutthefuryonLyla’sface,herseething,madealotofmyfrustrationfade.ShegavemetheoutletIhadn’trealizedI’ddesperatelyneeded.
“Comehere,Blue.”
Shekeptpacing.“Yourcaptainshouldbestandingbehindyou.Singingyourpraises.”
“Tobefair,theassholeIpunched,theotherdeputy?It’shisson.”
Lylagiggled.Itcamesofreelysheslappedahandoverhermouth.
Ichuckled.Howwasitwecouldfinishthisconversationinlaughter?
Fuck,butIwasgoingtomissher.
“Thankyou.”
Shedroppedherhandfromhermouthandshrugged.“Ididn’tdoanything.”
“Youdid.”
Shedidn’tevenrealizehowmuchshemeanttome,didshe?HowmuchIappreciatedherstandinginmycorner?
“Ihatehowthishappened,Lyla.IhatethatCormachurtyouandthat’swhyIcametoQuincy.ButI’malsogladIcamehere.Ineededtocomehere.”
Tofindher.
Lylachangedcourse,walkingovertostandbetweenmyknees.Thensheroseuponhertoes,takingmyfaceinherhandstokissmylowerlip.“I’mgladyoucametoo.You’llfindhim.Iknowit.”
Iwasn’ttalkingaboutCormac,butIdidn’tcorrecther.Becausethatfelttoomuchlikeagoodbye.
SoIkissedherinstead.
Andtomorrow,I’dsaygoodbye.
Tomorrow,I’dtellheritwastimeformetogohome.CHAPTERNINETEENLYLA
Vance’sheartwasbeeping.Short,quickbeepslikethesoundofmymicrowavewhenitstimerwentoff.
Wewereinthecoffeeshop,sittingathistable.Hewastalking,gesturingtothemapsspreadopenbetweenus,butallIcouldhearwashisheart.
Beep.Beep.Beep.
Ijoltedawake,liftingoffhischest.Adream.Itwasjustadream.ExceptIcouldstillhearthebeep,onlynotfromhisheart.Itwascomingfromhisphone.
“Vance.”Ipattedhisshoulder.
Hehummed,hishanddriftingdownmynakedspine.Heslippedpastthewaistbandofmypantiestocupmyass.
“Yourphone.”
Hiseyelidscrackedopen,sluggishwithsleep.Butthemomentheregisteredthebeeping,hisbodystilled.Thenhewasgone,flyingoutofbedandracingfromtheroomwearingonlytheboxerbriefshe’dpulledonbeforewe’dcrashedlastnight.
He’dlefthisphoneinthekitchen,pluggedintothechargerbesidemine.Ididn’tlikethedistractionofhavingitinmyroom,andVancewasmorethanwillingtogivemehisundividedattentioninbed.
Iwhippedthecoversfrommylegsandstood,snaggingVance’sthermalfromthefloorandtuggingitonasIhustledafterhim.
Moonlightstreamedthroughthekitchenwindows,castingusinsilversandgrays.Theclockontheovenread3:23.
“Whatisit?”Iasked,rushingtohisside.
Theglowfromhisphonelituphisfaceasheswepthisfingeracrossthescreen.
Thebeepingstopped.
“Fuck.”
“What?”Istoodonmytoes,peeringpasthisarm.
Thevideohepulledupwasgrainyblackandwhite.Itwasfromoneofthegamecamerashe’dleftinthemountains.Hemusthavehiddenitinatree,becausethelowerleftcornerofthevideowasaclose-upofpineneedles.
Still,therewasnomistakingthelocation.ItwasthestreamwhereVanceandIhadhiked.TheplacewhereI’dslippedandfalleninthemud.Thespotwherehe’dfoundthatfishtrap.
Besidethewater,crouchedlow,wasaman.
“OhmyGod,”Igasped.“Isithim?”
Theman’sbackwastothecamera.Itwastoodarkandfuzzyformetomakeouthisface.
Vancestaredatthescreen,unblinking,likehecouldn’tbelievehiseyes.Thenhecockedhisheadtotheside,hisgazenarrowing.“He’sstillhere.”
Myhearttumbled.“You’resure?”
“I’msure.”Hedidn’tlookawayfromthescreen.Neitherofusdid.
Oncamera,Cormacdidn’tmakeamovetotakethetrapfromthewater.Instead,hestayedlow.Theareawaslitbythemoon.Ithadtobewhyhe’dgonetocheckthetrap.Itwasbrightenough.
Onesecondhewascrouched,thenexthestoodandtwisted.Onlyhistorsomovedashescannedanentirecircle.Thenhisgazeshiftedtothetreessurroundinghim,likehewassearching.Likehecouldfeeluswatchinghim.
Whatevertrackswe’dleftbehindhadtobecoveredbythesnow.Therewasnowayhecouldtellwe’dbeenthere,right?
ExceptCormacwassoeerilystill.Sodeliberateineverymovement.Thegroundaroundhimwascoveredinwhite,butIcouldn’tmakeoutanyfootprints.Howhadhegottentherewithoutleavingatrail?
HesteppedandIhadmyanswer.Hisfeetwereinthewater,wherethestreamrushedoverhisboots.Withaquickgrab,hetookthetrapandtuckeditunderanarm.Thenhemovedfromoneclearrocktothenext,carefullypickinghiswayoutofthecamera’sview.
“Damnit.”Vancesethisphoneaside,thenrakedahandthroughhishair.
“Couldhehaveseenthecamera?”
“Idon’tknow.”Hisnostrilsflared.“Idoubtit,butsomethingspookedhim.”
“Nowwhat?Willyougoafterhim?”
Vancefacedthewindowoverthesink,staringatmydarkbackyardwithhishandsbracedonthecounter.Themusclesinhisshouldersflexed.Hisjawtickedasthesilencestretched.Thenhestoodtalland,withanod,sweptuphisphone.
Whoeverhecalled,thetonewasloudenoughinmyquietkitchenIcouldhearitring.Thencameavoice,mutedbutfamiliar.
“Winn,”Vancesaid.“Sorrytowakeyou.IfoundCormac.”
IfoundCormac.
Asinglesentence.HowlonghadIhopedforthosewords?HowmanytimeshadIprayedhe’dbecaught?
Excepttherewasnoreliefinhearingthem.Thatsinglesentencesoundedalotlikeabreakingheart.
Mine.
Thiswastheend.WouldIseeVanceagain?Wouldhecomeback?
IstudiedhisprofileashespoketoWinn,takingineveryline.Everydetail.Thestraight,masculinelineofhisnose.Thepoutofhislips.Theangleofhischeekbones.Thesweepofhisdarkeyelashes.Thatonelockofhairthatalwaysseemedtofallagainsthisforehead.
Hereachedforme,hisfreearmslingingaroundmyshoulderstohaulmeclose.“Yeah,I’mwithLyla,”hetoldWinn,waitingforherresponse.“We’reonourway.”
Heendedthecallandsethisphoneaside,wrappingmeinthosestrongarms.
Myhandssnakedaroundhisnarrowwaist,andIburroweddeepintohischest,dragginginthescentofhisskin,holdingitinmylungsuntilitburned.
Hislipscametomyhair.“Wehavetogo,Blue.”
Inoddedbutcouldn’tseemtoletgo.Instead,Ipulledhimimpossiblyclose,likemaybeifIwasstrongenough,Icouldcrawlinsidehisheartandstayforever.“I’mnotready,”Iwhispered.
“NeitheramI.”Hisholdtightened,justforasecond.Thenhebroughthishandstomyface,cuppingmycheeksandforcingmeback.Thekisshegavemewasslow.Tender.Sad.
Andmuch,muchtooshort.
Butitdisarmedmeenoughthathewasabletoslipaway.Hetookmebytheshoulders,turningmetowardthehallthatledtomybedroom.“Getdressed.Winnwantsustocometoherplace.”
“Okay.”Ihurriedbacktothebedroom.
There’dbetimetomournVancelater.
Rightnow,itwastimetocatchthatsonofabitchCormacGallagher.
***
TherewasalineoftrucksatGriffandWinn’shouseattheranch.TheyeachbelongedtoanEden—Dad,Griffin,KnoxandMateo.
Vance’sDodgetookitsplaceintherow,andthemomentitwasparked,webothjumpedout,hurryingtotheporch.
Griffopenedthedoorbeforewecouldknock.“Hey.”
“Hi.”Ilethimpullmeintoahug,thenslippedpasthimasheshookVance’shand.
ThescentofcoffeegreetedmeasImademywaypasttheopen-conceptlivingroomtothekitchen.
Mom,leaningagainstthestove,wassippingfromasteamingmug.Shewaswearingapairofflannelpajamapants,afadedEdenRanchsweatshirtandherfavoriteslippers.
Mateo,KnoxandDadwereattheisland,bothbentoveramap.
Winnemergedfromthehallway,rollingupthesleevesofaflannelshe’dobviouslystolenfromGriffin.“Hey.You’requick.”
“Wedrovefast.”Igaveherahug,thenwenttothekitchenandpulledouttwocoffeemugsfromthecupboard,fillingoneformeandtheotherforVance.“Here.”
“Thanks.”Hebrushedhisthumbacrossmycheek,thenjoinedmydadandbrothersattheisland.
“Hi,honey.”MomputherarmaroundmyshoulderswhenIstoodatherside.
“Hey,Mom.”
Theroombuzzedwithenergyandanticipation.Thehopewe’dallbutlosthadsurgedtonewlife.
“SheriffZalinskiisonhiswayoverwithtwodeputiesandasearchandrescuedog,”WinntoldtheroomasshewenttostandbesideGriff.“He’scalledinthecountyteam,butneitherofuswantedtowastetoomuchtime.Sowe’llheadoutwithasmallerteam,fanningoutfromthestartingpoint.”
Asmallerteam,meaningmyfamily.Thatwaswhyeveryoneherewasdressedinthickbaselayersthatwe’dcoverwithcoatsandboots.Theonlypersonwho’dstaybehindwasMomtowatchGriffandWinn’skids.
“Let’sgothrougheverythingwhilewewait,”Mateosaid,noddingtoVance.
“Allright.”Vanceleanedoverthemaptodrawinvisiblecircleswithhisfingersasheexplainedwherehe’dputhisgamecamerasandwherehesuspectedCormacwouldgo.
IrestedmyheadonMom’sshoulder,listeningtoVance’sdeepvoiceashebriefedmyfamily.
Dadandmybrotherswerehereforme.Tofindthebastardwho’dalmostkilledme.
ButIwashereforVance.
Hehadn’tspokenmuchonthedriveouttotheranch.He’dfocusedontheroad,followingmydirectionstoGriff’sasIrattledthemoff.ButwhenI’daskedwhyhe’dcalledWinnfirst,he’dtoldmethathewasn’tmessingthisup.ThatwhenCormacwasbroughtin,hewantednomistakes.Noholes.
VancewantedCormactospendtherestofhislifeinprisonandwouldn’triskatechnicality.
Soherewewere,followingtherules.
Ionlyhopeditdidn’tmeanwe’dmissedourchance.Thatthistimearound,Cormacreallywoulddisappear.
Cardoorsslammedoutside.
Winnbreezedtowardtheentryway,openingthedoorasSheriffZalinskicameinsideandshookherhand.
“Lyla.”Vancejerkedhischinformetojoinhiminaquietcornerofthekitchen.“Doyouwanttogo?”
“Idon’twanttoslowyoudown.”
“Youwon’t.”
Iwould.WebothknewIwould.ButifIwantedtogo,he’dslowhispace.“Areyousure?”
HeansweredbylookingovermyheadatMateo,standingbehindus.“Lyla’scoming.”
“Soundsgood.”Mateonodded.“I’llstickwithyoutwo.”
Thatmadeusallmembersofsearchandrescue,didn’tit?
“Wait.”Myheartstopped.Damnit.“Thecoffeeshop.”
“Don’tworryaboutit,”Momsaid.“I’lltalktoTaliaandEloise.They’lltakecareofitandcallCrystaliftheyneedhelp.”
Ireallylovedmyfamily.“Thanks.”
Momgavemeasurenod,likeshewasproudofmeforgoingtoday.
Winnwalkedtoacabinetinthekitchen,onetallenoughthekidscouldn’ttouch.Insidewashergunsafe.Shekeyedinthecode,takingoutherpistolandbadge.Withthegunholsteredandherbadgeclippedtoherbelt,shehuggedMom.“Thanksforbabysitting.”
“Always.”
“Thanks,Mom.”Griffkissedhercheek,thenfollowedWinntothecoathooks,eachofthemgearingup.
Onebyone,weshuffledoutthedoorandtoourrespectivevehicles.
“Ready?”Vanceaskedwhenmyseatbeltclickedintoitslatch.
Istaredathimacrossthetruck’scab,takinginthosecleareyes.WasIreadyfortoday?WasIreadyforthistobeover?No.
ButIsaid,“Yes.”CHAPTERTWENTYLYLA
“Nowwhat?”WinnaskedSheriffZalinski.
“Idon’tknow.”Herippedopenthedoortohiscruiser.Frustrationandsweatsteamedoffhisheadashehuffed.
Wewereallupset,thoughunlikeZalinski,weweretryingtohideit.
Histwodeputiesandthesearchdoghadalreadylefttheparkinglot.Knoxhadtakenofftoo,needingtogetbacktotownandtherestaurant.
Dad,GriffandMateoallstoodinsimilarstances—legsplantedwide,armscrossed—waitingforthesherifftogivethemthego-aheadtocomebacktomorrow.
“Ifsomeoneisuphere,whydidn’tthedogpickuponthescentatthestream?”Zalinskiasked.
“Ifsomeonewasuphere?”Mateoheldupahand.“Youwatchedthatfootage,justliketherestofus.He’suphere.”
“Idon’tknowwhothatmanwas,Mateo.”Zalinskishotmybrotherascowl.“Couldhavebeenanyone.”
“Itwasn’tjustanyone,”Griffsaid.“Itwashim.”
“Youcan’tknowthat.”ZalinskilookedtoVance.“Areyousureaboutthatcamera’slocation?”
“I’msure.”Vance’sjawclenched.
Zalinskihadquestionedanythingandeverythingtoday,fromthemomentwe’dparkedinthislottothemomentwe’dreturnedafteralong,miserableanddeflatingday.
“Cormacdoesn’twanttobefound.He’snotgoingtomakeiteasyandbroadcasthislocation.Andsomehow,heknowshe’sbeinghunted.Heeithersawacameraorafootprint.”
“Oneofyourfootprints.”ThesheriffpointedtoVance’sboots.
“Yeah.”Vancelookedhimstraightintheeyes.“ItwouldhavebeenoneofminesinceI’vebeentheonlyoneoutheresearching.”
Thesheriff’smouthpursedinathinline.Doubtwasetchedonhisweatheredface.
“Nolocalwouldtakethetimetomaskhisscentorhideatrail,”Dadsaid.“Ifthiswasjustanyone,thenthedogsshouldhavepickedupascent.Themanwe’reafterisexperienced.He’snothikingthesemountainsforrecreation.It’shim.He’slivinghere,andhe’sdangerous.Hetriedtomurdermydaughter,Zalinski.Soareyougoingtojuststandthereordosomethingaboutit?”
“Harrison,calm—”
“He’sgone.”Vancesilencedthegroup.“It’sdone.Ifwedidn’tfindCormactoday,wewon’ttomorroworthenextdayorthenextday.”
Thedefeatinhisvoicewasphysicallypainfultohear.
“SheriffZalinski.”WinntookastepawayfromGriffin,shiftingtointerruptourcircleandpositioningherselfbetweenthesheriffandDad.“There’snothingmorewecandotoday.YouandIcanregrouptomorrowandformulateaplan.”
Henodded,lettingoutanotherhuffedbreath.“I’mnothappythere’sacriminalonthelooseinmycounty.”
“Iknowthat,”Winnsaid.
“IfIcouldputadeputyouthere,Iwould.ButI’mshortstaffedandhavelimitedresources.”
“Understood.”Winnsteppedcloser,holdingoutherhandtoshakehis.Thenshegavehimawarmsmilethatdidn’tquitereachhereyesasheclimbedinhiscruiseranddroveaway.
“FuckingZalinski,”Griffinmuttered.
“Whatanasshole.”Mateoshookhishead.“When’sheupforre-election?”
“Twoyears,”Dadsaidabsently,hisgazeaimedtothemountainsideswe’dcombedtoday.
We’dsplitupintothreegroupsthismorning,startingatthispointandslowlymakingourwaytowardthestreamwhereVancehadputthegamecamerathathadcapturedCormac.
Thedoghadbeenwithus—Vance,Zalinski,Mateoandme.Whenwe’dreachedthestream,heseemedtohavecaughtascent.Hetookoffintothetrees,movingslowenoughthatwecouldfollow.Evenatthatpace,I’dpushedhardtokeepup,trudgingthroughthesnowandcarefulnottosliponapatchofice.
Mylegsfeltlikelimpnoodlesdespitethestiffnesssettlingintomymuscles.ButIrefusedtolettheacheshow.
Notwhenmyhearthurtmuch,muchworse.
ThedoglostCormac’sscentaboutahundredyardsawayfromthestream.How,Istillwasn’tsure.I’dhopedwe’dcomeacrossatrailoffootprintsinthesnow,anythingtokeepgoing.Instead,thedogloopedusincircles,nosetotheground,runningallalongthestream,notfindinganythingtocarryusforward
We’dkeptsearching,ourgroupsfanningouttolookfortracks.Whennonehadbeenfound,we’dallregroupedatthestreamagain.ThenVancehadledustohisothercameras,checkingtheirrespectiveareasonebyone,rulingoutanysignofamanhidinginthewoods.
Byearlyafternoon,SheriffZalinskihadinsistedwereturntotheparkinglotsoastonotriskanyonegettinglostorinjured.
Therewerestillhoursofdaylightremaining.Hourswecouldbesearching.
“I’mcomingbacktomorrow.”Mateo’sdeclarationdidn’tsurpriseme.
NeitherdidGriffin’sresponse.“Let’sallmeetattheranchbyseven.Yougoodwiththat,baby?”
Winnnodded.“AsfarasI’mconcerned,you’rehikingwithVance.I’mdonelisteningtoZalinski’sexcuses.FindGallagher.Bringhimin.HithimovertheheadwitharockandcallitarescueattemptofanunknownhikerforallIcare.ButI’mnotmissingthischance.Notagain.”
“Icalldibsontherock.”Mateojerkedhischintowardhistruck.“Seeyouinthemorning.”
Dadgavemeaquickhug,thenwalkedtohisownrig.
WinnandGriffdidthesamebeforeheadingtotheirs.
AllwhileVancestoodunmoving,staringoffintothedistance,hiseyesunfocused.
Iwaiteduntilwewerealone,untilthetaillightshaddisappearedbeyondabendintheroad.“Youokay?”
“Fuck.”Heshookhishead,thentippedhisheadtotheskyandroared.Hishandsfistedathissidesasthefrustrationpouredfromhisthroat.Heyelledforusboth.Andwhenhestoppedandlookedtome,theapologyinhiseyesbrokemeintoahundredpieces,likethegravelbeneathourboots.“I’msorry,Lyla.”
“I’msorrytoo.”Iswallowedpastthelumpinmythroat.
Iwassorryhewouldn’tgetclosuretoday.ThathemightneverhavethechancetofindoutwhyCormachadmurderedhiswifeandchildren.
WhatdiditsayaboutusthatwecaredmoreaboutfindingCormacfortheotherpersonthanourselves?Maybethatwaswhattrue,selflesslovereallymeant.
“Don’tgiveup,”Iwhispered.IfCormacwasn’there,thatdidn’tmeanallhopewaslost.ItjustmeantthenexttimeVancegotalead,itprobablywouldn’tbringhimtoMontana.
“Ialmostdid,”headmitted.“Yesterday,Idecideditwastimetocallitoff.Forgood.”
Wasthatwhyhe’dconfessedsomuchatthecoffeeshoplastnight?Becausehe’dalreadymadethedecisiontoleave?
“He’sstillhere.”Vance’sgazeshiftedtothemountains.
“Howdidhehidefromthedog?Howcouldhewalkwithoutleavinganykindoftrail?”Myfootprintswereallovernow,frozeninthesnow.Andtheyweren’talone.
“Idon’tknow,”Vancesaid.“Hetaughtmealotaboutsurvivalistskills,butthis?Weneverhadtohideourtracks.Weweretheonesfindingthem.”
“Nowwhat?”
Hisexpressionhardened.“Ifoundhimonce.I’llfindhimagain.Evenifittakesmeanotherfouryears.”
Evenifitmeantsacrificinghisownlife,hisownjobandhappiness.
He’ddothatforthefamilyhe’dlost.Forthegirlshe’dloved.
Forme.
“You’llfindhim.”Downtomybones,IbelievedinVance.HewouldfindCormac.Maybetomorrow,whenhewenthikingwithmybrothers.Maybeweeksfromnow,whenhehadnoonetoslowhimdown.
“Comeon.”Heungluedhisfeet,takingmyelbowandescortingmetothetruck.Thenhedroveusbacktotown,straighttothecoffeeshop.Hedidn’thavetoaskifIwantedtocheckin,hejustknewIwould.
Taliawasattheespressomachinewhenwewalkedthroughthefrontdoor.Themomentshespottedus,herentireframerelaxed.“Didyoufindhim?”sheaskedwhenIreachedthecounter.
“Notyet.”Ichosethosewordsdeliberately.“Thanksforhelpingtoday.”
“Anytime.Foster’sinthekitchen.HefoundarecipebookandisattemptingyourquicheLorraine.”
“Hedidn’tneedtodothat.”
Shewaveditoff.“Hecan’tbestopped.He’sonamissionbecauseItoldhimIwascravingquiche.”
AndsinceFosterworshipedthegroundbeneathmytwinsister’sfeet,he’ddoeverythinginhispowertosatisfythosepregnancycravings.
“DidCrystalcomein?”Iasked.
“Yeah,butit’sbeenslow,sowesentherhome.Foster’slovingthis.Hemightaskyouforapart-timejob.”
Ilaughed,glancingovermyshoulderatVance.
Iexpectedhimtobeclose,buthe’dwanderedtohischair.Notthathewassitting.Hestoodatthewindow,handsstuffedinhispockets,andstaredoutside.
“Thankyou,”ItoldTalia.“Iknowthisisn’thowyouwantedtospendyourdayoff.”
“Helpingmysister?That’sexactlyhowIwanttobespendingmydayoff.”SheglancedatVance.“Youguysshouldgo.We’vegotthis.”
“Areyousure?”
“Positive.”Therewasasoftnessinhereyes.Asadness.LikeshewantedmetospendasmuchtimewithVanceaspossiblebecausehewasleaving.
“I’llcallyoutomorrow,”Itoldher,thenjoinedVance,hugginghisarm.“Let’sgoforawalk.”
We’dwalkedallday,butIworriedwhatwouldhappenwhenwestoppedmoving.Iworriedthathe’dtellmehewasleaving.SowesetoffalongMain,strollingataneasypace.
Vancetookmyhand,threadingourfingerstogether.Ittookthreeblocksuntilhisshouldersrelaxed.Anotherfouruntilhisjawunclenched.Bythatpoint,we’dalmostreachedthegrocerystorethatactedasabookendononesideofMain.
“Areyouhungry?”Itwasn’tevenclosetodinnertime,butallwe’dhadtoeattodaywerethesmooshedgranolabarsVancekeptinhisbackpack.“Wecouldgoshopping.Findsomethingfordinner.”
“Sure,”hesaid,lookingbothwaysbeforecrossingthestreet.
Butjustaswe’dsteppedontothecurboftheoppositesidewalk,Vancefroze
“What?”Iasked,followinghisgaze.
Itwaslockedonayoungwomanwalkingthroughthegrocerystore’sparkinglot.Herredhairwasinalongandstringyponytail.
Vance’shanddroppedmine.Hetookasinglestep.
Thegirlroundedacar,thenturned,walkingstraighttowardus.Shehadhereyesaimedontheconcrete,chintuckedlikeshewastryingtobeinvisible.
AcarrolledpastonMain.Itcaughtherattentionandsheglancedup,watchingitpass.Butbeforeshecouldfocusonthesidewalkagain,hergazeshiftedandlandedonVance.
Likehim,shefroze.Hereyeswidened,sobigIcouldseeeverybitofrecognition.Everyounceoffear.Thecolordrainedfromheralreadypaleface.
Shehadtwoplasticbagsloopedoverherforearm.Inasingleswoop,sheswungthemintoherchest,clutchingthemtight.
“Stop!”heshouted.
Thewomantookabackwardstep.Thenshetoreacrossthestreetandranaway.
Vancechasedher.CHAPTERTWENTY-ONEVANCE
Fuck,shewasfast.She’dalwaysbeenfast.
“Stop!”Ishoutedagain,mybootspoundingonthesidewalk.
Shekeptrunning.
SoIgrittedmyteethandfoundthenextgear.
Wecrossedasidestreet,herredponytaillashingacrossherfaceasshescannedforcarsbeforedartingacrosstheasphalt.Sheriskedaglanceoverhershoulder,andwhenshesawme,thoseeyesheldsheerterror.
Ofme.
Shewasscaredofme.Why?
Thatquestiononlymademepushharder.Mylungswereonfire.Mylegsweretiredfromthehiketoday,butIran.
Weracedthrougharesidentialneighborhood,thecharminghomesstreakingbyaswetoredownthesidewalk.
Shewasfast.Butnotfastenoughtooutpacemylongerstride.IttookalmosttwoblocksfromMainformetogetwithinreach.
Onthestreetahead,ayellowschoolbuswasstopped,itsredlightsflashing,asalineofchildrenhoppedout.
Amothercamewalkingdownthesidewalkfromherhouse,probablytomeetherkid.Whenshesawusrunning,herjawdroppedandsheblinked,likeshewasn’tsurewhatwashappening.
Shit.Ididn’tneedaparentcallingthecops.Notyet.NotuntilIhadanswers.
“Stoprunning,”Ibarked.“Goddamnit,Vera.Stop.”
Maybeitwasmesayinghernameormaybeshewasgettingwinded,butsheslowedenoughthatIcouldwrapherup.
“No.”Shestruggled,throwingherelbowstowardmyribs.Theplasticbagsshehadclutchedtoherchestwhippedagainstusbutdidn’tfall.
“Vera.”Howwasthispossible?HowwasIsayinghername?Howwassheinmyarms?
“Letmego.”
“No.”Iheldhertighter,theworldspinningbeneathmyfeet.
Vera.ThiswasVera.Shewasalive.ShewashereinMontana.
Acryescapedhermouthbutshekeptthrowingthoseelbows,somethingCormachadtaughtherintheirgarageself-defensesessions.He’dalwayswantedhisgirlstobesafe.
Beforehe’dkilledthem.
Excepthehadn’t.NotVera.
Iclampeddownharder,pinninghertome.“Stop.Please.”
“Vance,”Lylapanted,stoppingatourside.Hereyeswerewideandherchestheavedfromchasingafterus.HergazedartedtoVera,whokeptfightingme.Thensheglancedaround,nodoubttakinginthatmotherwho’dspottedusearlier
Lylaheldupherhand,signalingitwasokay.Thewomannodded,thensteeredherlittleboytowardtheirhouse.
ThedistractiongaveVeraanopening.Shepickedupafootandslammedherheelintomyshin.
Painspreadthroughmyleg,butIswalloweditdown,myholdonherasstrongasever.
“Vera.”Myvoicewaslow.Steady.Ipulledherevencloser,myheartracingasIputmycheekonherhair.“Vera.It’sme.”
Shestilled.Completely.
Thenherentirebodywentlimp.Thegrocerybagsshe’dbeencarryingfelltotheground.Ifnotformyarms,shewouldhavecrumpledintoaheaponthesidewalkbesidethem.
Hercheststartedtoshakeasshecried.“Y-youhavetogo!Youcan’tbehere.Youcan’tseeme.”
“Why?”
“BecauseI’mdead.”Shecriedharder,whole-bodysobsthatwrackedhershouldersandbrokemyheart.“UncleVance,I’mdead.”
UncleVance.
WordsIhadn’tthoughtI’dhearVerasayeveragain.Wordsthatcrackedmeintwo.
Shespuninmyarmsandburiedherfaceinmychest.“UncleVance.”
“Hey,kiddo,”Iwhispered,droppingmycheektoherhairasIheldhertight,blinkingawaymyowntears.“I’mhere.”
“I’msotired.”
“Igotyou.”Thistime,Iwasn’tlettinghergo.
Veracollapsedagainstme,soakingthefrontofmycoatwithhertears.Likeshe’dheldthembackforfouryears.
AndIjustbreathedherin,feelinghershouldersandribs.Shewasn’tateenageranymore.Fouryearsandshe’dfinishedgrowingup.Shewastaller,lean,butstrong.
“Imissedyou,Vera.”
Shenodded,herhandsfistingmycoatasshekeptcrying.
Alive.Shewasalive.
Thiswaswhytheyhadn’tfoundherbodyinthelake.Thedivershadrecoveredthetwins.I’dbeentheonetoidentifytheirbodies.ButnotVera.
Herbodyhadneverbeenfound.WiththesizeanddepthofLakeCoeurd’Alene,everyonehadassumedshe’djustbeenlost.
Buttherewasnobodytofind.Shewasalive.
Whatdidthatmean?Whatwashappening?IlookedatLyla.Theshockwrittenonherfaceprobablymatchedmyown.
“Vera,”shemouthed.
Inodded.Vera.
Cormac’sdaughter.
Thechildhe’dmurdered.
Ornot.CHAPTERTWENTY-TWOLYLA
Thisgirlneededahotshower.Sheneededawarmmeal.Sheneededabottleofshampooandasoftbed.Maybeifshesleptforafewdays,thosedarkcirclesbeneathhereyeswouldfade.
Butthere’dbenoshowerorfoodorbed.Verakeptglancingtothedoor,lookingmorelikeacagedanimalreadytoescapethanthevibrant,happygirlVancehaddescribed.Shewasgoingtoboltandbreakhisheart,wasn’tshe?
Well,she’dhavetogetthroughmefirst.Untilsheexplained,I’dbeahumanblockadeatthatdoor.
“Ihavetogo,”shetoldVancefromherseatbesidehimonmycouch.“Ican’tbelate.”
“Notuntilyoutellmewhat’sgoingon.”Hishandwasonherknee.Itwaslikelyagentletouch,butIhadnodoubtthatifshetriedtogetup,he’dclamptightandsitherassrightbackdown.
Veraclutchedthebagsfromthegrocerystoreagainstherchest.
Thelabelonherblueboxoftamponsshowedthroughthethin,whiteplastic.She’dalsoboughtbatteries,Tylenol,first-aidointmentandafewdifferentsizesofbandages.I’dbeentheonetopickeverythingupoffthesidewalkandreturnittothebagswhileVancehadliftedabawlingVeraintohisarms,cradledhertohischestandcarriedhertohistruck.
She’dpulledherselftogetheronthedrivetomyhouse.Thecryinghadstopped,thoughhercheekswerestillsplotchyandhereyesred-rimmed.
Shehadn’twantedtocomeinside,butVancehadpointedtothehouse,hisfacesostern.Sofatherly.ItwasalookIhadn’tseenonhimbefore.OnefromhislifebeforeQuincy,whenhe’dbeenUncleVance
ItwasalookVeramusthaveknownbecauseshe’dfollowedmeinside,andafterhe’ddonequickintroductions,he’dtoldhertotakeaseatonthecouch.She’ddonejustthat.
WhileI’dbeeninthekitchen,gettingheraglassoficewater,she’dcollectedthosebagstoholdclose.Wassheafraidwe’dtakethemfromher?Wassomeonehurt?Cormac,maybe?
“Here.”Ihandedherthewater.
“Thankyou.”Shetookit,staringatitforalongmoment.“Ihaven’tseenanicecubeinawhile.”
Vancetensed.NotenoughforVeratonotice,butthosebroadshouldersinchedeversoslightlytowardhisears.Therewasastormofquestionsraginginsidethatman,buthe’dkeepitin.Keepithidden.
He’dstaystrongfortheyoungwomanathissidewhocouldn’tstopshaking.
Shelookedupathim,herbigbrowneyesswimmingwithtears.ThesamebrowneyesI’dstaredintoweeksagowhenI’dthoughtCormacGallagherwasgoingtokillme.
“Dadiswaitingforme,”shesaid.“Ihavetogoorelsehe’llcomelookingforme.Hecan’tcometotown,buthewillifhe’sworried.I’vegottogettoourmeetingpointsowecangohome.”
“Home?”Vanceasked.
“Toourshelter.”
Vance’seyebrowscametogether.“Youhaveashelter?Where?”
“Inthemountains.”
“You’relivinginthemountains.”Hekeptrepeatingeverythinglikehestillcouldn’tbelieveit.
“Yeah.”
Whereinthemountains?Howlonghadtheybeenthere?Howwasshealive?Thereweresomanyquestions,butIkeptquiet,standingasideandwatchingasVancesatwithher.
“Vera,whathappened?You’vebeengoneforfouryears.Everyonethinksyou’redead.”
Herhandtrembledassheliftedtheglassofwatertoherlipsforasip.Thenshesniffled,sittingalittlestraighter.Squaringthoseshoulders.“I’mokaywiththat.”
“You’reokaywiththeworldthinkingyou’redead?”
“Ifthat’swhatittakestokeepDadsafe.”
Vanceshookhishead,blinkingtoomanytimes.He’dspentfouryearshatingCormacforkillinghisfamily.ButhadCormacmurderedthem?Whataboutthetwins?WhataboutCormac’swife?IfVerawasalive,whatthehellhadactuallyhappenedfouryearsago?
“I’mallhehasleft,”Verawhispered,hervoicecracking.“We’realleitherofushasleft.”
Sohermother,hersisters,weregone.Myhandflattenedovermyheart,pressingattheache.
“Youhaveme.”Vancehookedhisfingerunderherchin,hisgazesofteningashetookinhersweetface.“Talktome,kiddo.”
“Ican’t.”Herchinstartedtoquiver.“Ireallyhavetogo.”
Hestaredatherforalongmoment,theninaflash,hewasonhisfeet.“Thenlet’sgo.”
“Youcan’tcome.”Sheshottoherfeettoo.
“Oh,I’mcoming.”Vancestood,lookingdownatherashecrossedhisarmsoverhischest.Thedadglare.I’dbeenonthereceivingendofthatoneplentyoftimesfrommyownfatheranduncle.“YourdadandIhavealottotalkabout.”
“Hewon’ttalktoyou.”
“Hewill.”Vance’svoicegentled.
“Iwon’tletyoucome,notifitmeanshe’llgotojail.”
“He’snotgoingtojail.”
ButCormacbelongedinjail,didn’the?Myheadwasspinning,myemotionsswirling.Ihatedthatassholeforwhathe’ddonetome.Forthepainhe’dcaused.ButVera’sbeatingheartchangedeverything.
Ifshewasalive,whatdidthatmean?
Thebastardhadstillstrangledme.Butwhatifhe’ddoneittoprotecthisdaughter?WhatifeverythingI’dassumedwaswrong?
“Wherearewemeetinghim?”Vanceaskedher.
“UncleVance—”
“Noarguments.”Spokenlikeamanwho’dgivenherordersbefore.Ordersshe’dobeyed.Hewasheruncle,maybenotbyblood,butpractice.Hejerkedhischindownthehall.“Wanttousethebathroombeforewego?”
AstrangelookflashedacrossVera’sface.Itwasacombinationofreliefandexhaustionandelation,likeusingabathroom,withrunningwaterandaflushingtoilet,wasaluxurysherarelygottoexperience.
“Firstdooronyourleft,”Isaid,offeringherasmallsmile.
“Thanks,”shemurmured,thenslippedpastVanceandwalkeddownthehall.
Themomentthedoorclickedshut,heblewoutalongbreath.Bothofhishandsdoveintohishair,pullingatthestrands.“Whatthefuck?Howisthisreal?”
“Idon’tknow.”
“She’salive.”Hestaredataspotonthewall,hisgazeunfocused.“Hekeptherhiddenforfouryears.Weallthoughthe’dkilledher.Ifhedidn’t…whatelsedidwegetwrong?”
“Thetwins?”
Vanceshookhishead.“Iwastheonewhoidentifiedtheirbodies.Norah’stoo.”
SoitwasjustVera.
“Whywouldhehideher?”Iasked.
“Idon’tknow.Nothingaboutthismakessense.”Heletoutafrustratedgroan,thenheldoutanarm.Aninvitation.
SoImovedtohim,wrappingmyarmsaroundhiswaistashehauledmeclose.
“Imournedher,Lyla.Icriedforher.Butshe’shere.She’sinthebathroom,isn’tshe?AmIdreamingthis?”
“She’shere.”
“Idon’tknowwhattothink,Blue.”
“Youhavetogowithher.YouhavetotalktoCormac.”Itiltedmychinbacktomeethisgaze.“AndI’mcomingwithyou.”
“Lyla—”
“Noarguments.”Istolehisownwords.“There’smoretothisstory.Ihavetherighttoknowthetruth.”
Vancewasn’ttheonlyonewhowantedanswers.Ineededtoknowifthemanwho’dtriedtokillme,whohadn’tkilledmewhenhe’dhadthechance,wastrulythevillain.
Ineededtoknowwhyhe’dletmego.
“It’stoodangerous.Ihavenoideahowhe’llreact.Hewasviolentwithyouonce.”
“Hisdaughterwillbethere.”IwascountingonVeraactingasabuffer.
“No.”
“Please?Whatifyouneedawitness?”
“Lyla.Iwon’trisksomethinghappeningtoyou.”
“Ineedthis,Vance.Tofacehim.”AndtobetherewhenVancefacedCormactoo.“We’restrongertogether.”
Vancesighed,tuckingalockofhairbehindmyear.“Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingtohappen.”
“There’sachanceyou’lllethimwalkaway,isn’tthere?”
“Idon’tknow,”hemurmured.
“You’llkeepmesafe.AndItrustyou.”DependingonwhatCormachadtosay,Vancewoulddowhathethoughtwasright.AndifheletCormacgo,itwouldn’tbebecausehedidn’twantthemantopayforwhathe’ddonetome.ItwouldbebecausewhatevertruthswelearnedtodaywoulddictateCormac’sfate.
“Ican’taskyoutokeepthisasecret,”hesaid.
Frommyfamily.FromWinn.“Youdon’thaveto.”
“Lyla.”Hiseyessearchedmine.Hisfingersthreadedthroughthehairatmytemple.Therewassomethinginhisgaze,somethingbigandpowerfulandsomethingIdesperatelywantedhimtosay.“I—”
Thebathroomdooropened.
Andjustlikethat,wewereoutoftime.CHAPTERTWENTY-THREEVANCE
ThewayVerawalkedthroughtheforestwassosimilartohowCormacmoveditwasuncanny.Shepickedherstepsdeliberately.Therewasnohidingourtracksinthesnow,butstill,shesteppedcarefully,theonlysoundthecrunchoficebeneathherboots.
Herpacewasquickbutnotrushed.Hergazesweptbackandforththroughthetrees,searchingforthreatsandnotinglandmarks.
He’dtaughtheralotthesepastfouryears,hadn’the?
“You’vebeenlivingouthere,”Isaid.
“Yes.”Veraglancedoverhershoulder,keepinghervoicelowasshespoke.Habit,nodoubt.Cormachadtaughthertoliveouthereundetected,andhe’ddoneadamnfinejob.
“Forhowlong?”
“We’vebeeninMontanafortwoyears,Ithink?Ilosttrack.Dadknows.”
Ihummed.
Behindme,Lylastayedclose.Hercheekswereflushedasshefollowedmysteps.Shehadtobetiredfromearlier,butshemarchedon,herstrengthandresilienceasbreathtakingasherbeauty.
“Good?”Iasked,stretchingahandforhers.
Shetookitandnodded.“Good.”
“Wecanslowdown.”Verastoppedaheadofus,turningtofaceus.“I’malwaystheonetryingtokeepup,soIknowhowitfeels.Sorry.”
“I’mokay,”Lylasaid.
Itightenedmygriponhers,thenwavedforVeratocontinue.
She’dslowdown.Iknewbeforesheeventookasinglestepthatshe’dslowdownforLyla.Thatsweetheartofherswasstillthere,despiteeverythingthathadhappened.
Everythingshewouldn’ttellme.
“Howoftendoyoucometotown?”Iasked.
MaybethetwotimesI’dseenthatredhairinQuincyhadn’tbeenmyimaginationorastranger.MaybeitreallyhadbeenVera.
“Usuallyonceamonth,”shesaid.
“Fortampons,”LylawhisperedsoquietlyonlyIcouldhear.Therewasaboxinthosebagsshecarried.
“Doesyourdadcomealong?”
“Never,”Verasaid.
LylaandIsharedalook.Sothatwaspartofhowhe’dsurvivedouthere.He’dhadVerasneakintoQuincy,whereshe’djustbeanynormalface.
Onlynottome.HadInotcometoMontana,noonewouldeverhavesuspectedshewasthelinktoakiller.
Washeakiller?
“Howdoyoupayforthings?”Lylaasked.
“Cash.DadtookasmuchashecouldwhenweleftIdaho.Thatranoutawhilebacksohe,um…”
“RobbedagasstationinOregon,”Ifinished.
Veracringed.“Howdidyouknow?”
“IwenttoOregon.”
Shestopped,turningtofaceusagain.“Hesaidthere’dalwaysbepeoplechasingus.Ididn’tbelievehim.Ifiguredafterthislong,we’dbeforgotten.ButDadisalwayscareful,justincase.Iguesshewasright.Thatwasyou,wasn’tit?Youleftthegamecamerabythestreamwhereweputafishtrap.”
Fuck.“Hesawthecamera.”
“Thismorning.”Shenodded.“Hesaidhefeltlikesomeonewaswatchinghim,sohecircledbackoncethesuncameup.Foundit.”
Hemusthavecomeuponthebackside,otherwisemyalarmwouldhavegoneoffagain.
“Yeah,”Itoldher.“Thatwasme.”
Vera’sshouldersslumped.“We’releavingbecauseofit.Todaywasmylasttriptotown.”
Damn.HowfuckingluckywasitthatLylahadwantedtowalkalongMain?
“Dad’sbeenstrangelately,”Verasaid.“Hewouldn’ttellmewhy,buthe’skeptusclosetotheshelter.He’ssentmetotownmoreoftenthanusualforsupplies.I’vehadtotakedifferent,longerroutestomakesurenoonewouldbeabletofollowmeback.Ithoughtitwasjustnormalprepforwinter.Stockinguponfoodandbatteriesandfirst-aidsupplies.Buthewentouttocheckthetrapthismorningandcamebackpanicked.Saidwehadtoleave.Ithinkhe’sbeenpreparingforitforweeksbutdidn’twanttotellme.”
CormachadbeenactingstrangebecauseofLyla,hadn’the?Buthehadn’ttoldVerawhathe’ddone.Abouttheriver.Maybehe’dexpectedthelocalteamstogiveuptheirsearch.Tobefair,he’dbeenright.
Excepthehadn’tcountedonme.
“We’realmostthere.”Veralookedright,thenleft.“Ithinkitwouldbebestifyougavemeaminute.”
“I’mnotlettingyououtofmysight.”IlovedVera,butthisentiresituationwasfuckedup.
ForallIknew,she’dbeenleadingusnowhere.We’dparkednearlyamileawayfromwhereI’dbeensearching.AsmuchasIlovedher,Ididn’ttrusther.Therewasaveryrealchancethattheminuteshewasoutofsight,she’ddisappearagain.
Cormacwouldhavetaughtherhowtohide.
Evenfromme.
“Figuredyou’dsaythat.”Sheblewoutalongbreath,thencuppedherhandsoverhermouth,lettingoutapiercingwhistle.
Thesoundbouncedofftreesandrocks,untilthewildernessswalloweditwhole.Westoodinsilence,theonlysoundmypoundingheart.
Thenitcame,faintandalmostinaudible.Anotherwhistle.
“He’scoming,”Verasaid,givingmeapleadinglook.“Justhidebehindatreeorsomething.Letmewarnhimfirst.Please?”
“Vera,”Iwarned.
“I’mnotgoingtorunoff,UncleVance.Ipromise.”
Forfuck’ssake.“Fine,”Iclipped,leadingLylatoalargepinetree.Ipositionedherbacktoitstrunk,standinginfrontofher,bothasashieldandsoIcouldkeepaneyeonVera.
“Youcanstayrighthere,”ItoldLyla.“Youdon’thavetoseehim.”
“Yes,Ido.”Herresponsedidn’tsurprisemeintheleast.
“Okay.”Ipressedakisstoherforehead,thenadjustedmygriponherhand.Nomatterwhat,Iwouldn’tletitgo.
“You’relate.”Cormac’svoicefilledtheair.
Myframelocked.ThatvoicewasthesameasIremembered,yetdifferent.Panicked.Haggard.
“Areyouokay?”heaskedVera.“Whathappened?Iwasgettingworried.”
“I’mokay,”Verasaid.
“Wegottago.It’llbedarksoon.Givemethosebags.I’llcarrythem.”
“Dad,wait.”
“What?”
Ididn’twaitforVeratomakeabigannouncement.Itookonesidewaysstep,comingoutfrombehindthetree,andfacingtheman—myfriend,mybrother,theoneI’dprayedtofindforfouryears.
“Vance.”Cormacstiffened,butotherwise,hedidn’tlookshocked.ThatchangedwhenLylasteppedoutfrombehindthetree.ThatwaswhenCormac’sfacepaled.
IclutchedLyla’shand,watchingassheraisedherchin.Watchingassheleveledhimwithacoolglare.
That’smygirl.Iwassogoddamnproudofher.
He’dbeatenme.I’dlethimwin.
NotLyla.Righthere,rightnow,shewastakingbackherpower.Shewastakingbackwhathe’dstolen.
Fuck,butIlovedher.
IwasinlovewithLylaEden.
Ihadbeenforweeks.
Cormacsnappedoutofhistrance,reachingforVera.Hetookherbythearm,pullingherbehindhimandthepackstrappedtohisback.“Getoutofhere,Vera.Run.Now.”
“No.”Sheshookherhead.
“Go.”Heshovedhersohardshenearlystumbled.
“Dad,stop!”
“Wait.”Itookastep,holdingupmyfreehand.“Ijustwanttotalk.”
“Vera,run!”Cormac’sbellowwaspainedandfrantic.
TearssprangtoVera’seyesasherhandsballedintofists,herheadshaking.“No.Nomorerunning.”
“Youhavetoleave.”
Shedidn’tmove.“Wecan’tkeepdoingthis.”
“Wehaveto,love.”Cormacwasjustasbroadandtallashehadbeenyearsago.Buthelookedsmallernow.Brokenbyguiltandsorrow.
“Iwon’tsayanything.”Lyla’svoicewassteady.“Ifthat’swhatyou’reworriedabout,Iwon’ttellanyonethatIsawyouorVera.ButyouoweVancethetruth.”
Hereshewas,fightingforme,notherself.
HowwasIsupposedtowalkawayfromhernow?
Isqueezedherhandtighter.
CormacstaredatLyla,apologywrittenonhisscarredface.Heturnedthatsameapologytohisdaughter.“Ijustwanttokeepyousafe.”
“Iknow,Daddy.”Shereachedoutandclutchedhishand.“ButI’msotired.Please.TalktoUncleVance.”
Thefaithshehadinmetofixthiswasstaggering.IclungtoLyla’shand,borrowingabitofherstrength,asIfacedCormac.
HowlonghadIhopedforthis?Tocomefacetofacewithhim?
ItwasnothinglikeI’dexpected.NothinglikeI’dplannedfor.Istaredathimanddidn’tseeacold-bloodedkiller.Ididn’tseeamanwho’dbetrayedmyfriendship.Ididn’tseealiarormanipulator.
Isawadesperatefather.
“Please,”Verawhispered.
Iknewbeforehenoddedthathe’dsayyes.Itwasimpossibletosaynotothatgirlsometimes.
Hecuppedhercheek.“Okay.”
Sheleanedintohim,hereyesclosing.
Hetooktheplasticbagsfromher,puttingtheminhispack.Thenwithitslungonhisshouldersagain,heturnedandledhisdaughterthroughthetrees,ordering,“Followme.”
Itookastep,expectingLylatostaybesideme,butherfeetseemedgluedtothesnow.MaybeI’dstolentoomuchofherstrength.“Hey.”
Hereyesshiftedtomine.“Ishouldhatehim.Whydon’tIhatehim?”
“Whydon’tI?”
Lylalookedbehindus.“Canyoufindourwaybacktothetruckatnight?”
“Yeah,Blue.”Ibenttokissthetopofherhead.“Wewon’tgetlost.”
Wewalkedhandinhand,followingCormacandVerauntiltheforestgotthickerandthicker,forcingusintoasingle-fileline.
NotwantingLylatobelast,Iputherinfrontofme,oneeyetrainedconstantlyonCormac.Therewerealotofunknownshere,butwithoutadoubt,he’dhurtheronce.Iwouldn’tlethimdoitagain.
Thesunwassinkingtowardthehorizon,thelightdimming.Yetwewalkedandwalked,pushinghardtowhereverCormacandVeraweretakingus.
Lylaslippedonapatchofice,herfootslidingoutfrombeneathher.
Irushedtocatchherandhelphertoherfeet.“Youokay?”
Shewasoutofbreathbutnodded.“I’mgood.”
Vera,whowalkedbehindCormac,turnedback,offeringLylaakindsmile.She’dslowedearlierbutwouldn’taskherdadtotakeiteasynow.Sowehikedatapunishingpaceupthesteepterrain.
Thetreesweresothickthattherewerepatcheswherethesnowhadn’treachedyet.They’dgetcoveredaswinterprogressed,butfornow,thedirtandpineconesandneedleswereonlycoveredinathickfrost.
“Stayoffthesnow,”Cormacsaid.“FollowonlywhereIstep.”
Lylaglancedback,andwhenInodded,shedidashe’dordered.AfewstretchesweresowidethatbothsheandVerahadtojump.
Wecontinuedforanotherquarterofamilelikethatuntilwereachedanoutcroppingofrocksthatbrokethroughthetrees.
Cormacstopped,shiftingthepackoffashouldertodigoutaspraybottle.Insidewasaclearliquid.
“What’shedoing?”Lylaasked,pantingaswestopped.
“It’sbleachandwater,”hesaid.“Upyougo,love.”
Veranodded,thenslippedpasthimtoscaleasectionoftherockthatwasabouteightfeettall,usingafewnotchesandfootholdstoclimbitsflatface.Whenshereachedthetop,shelayonherstomach,stretchingforthepackhehoistedup.
“You’renext.”CormacjerkedhischinforLylatofollow,butthatwouldmeanpassinghim.Beingwithinarm’sreach.
“Lyla.”Ishiftedinfrontofher.“HernameisLylaEden.”
Cormacmetmygaze,coweringslightly.Thenhedippedhischin.“LylaEden.I’msorryforwhatIdidattheriver.”
“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”Veraasked.“Whathappenedattheriver?”
Helookedupather.“I’llexplainlater.We’rerunningoutoflightandneedtohurry.”
“Wewon’tbegoinghometonight,willwe?”Lylaaskedme.
“Notlikely.”
Sheshuffledclosertomybackpack.
“Youguysclimbup.Vera,keepgoing.I’llcatchup.”Cormacwalkedpastus,givingLylaawideberth.Hedescendedtheslopeabouttwentyyards,thenbegansprayingthebleachwateroverthegroundbeforehejoggedevenfurtheraway.
“What’shedoing?”LylaaskedVera.
“He’llgoruninalooptoleavehisscentinacircle.Ifadogcomesuphere,itwon’tknowexactlywhatdirectiontochoose.”
“Andthebleach?”
“Hesaysitcanmesswithadog’snose.Overpowertheirsenses.”
“Damn.”Sothatwashowhe’dmaskedhisscentwiththedogs.Andontopofthat,he’dchosenapathnodogcouldfollowupthatrockface.
“Comeon.”InudgedLylaforward.“I’llhelpyouup.”
Beyondtherockfacewasnothingbutsteep,wetrocks.Therewerenotreeshere,justjaggedterrainthatwouldbehelltodescend.
Yeah,notachancewe’dbeleavingtonight.Notinthedark.
Veraclimbed,somehowfindingapathbetweentherocks,probablybecauseshe’ddonethisahundredtimes.Andaboutfifteenminuteslater,Cormacclearedhisthroatbehindme.
Iwasn’tsurewhatelsehe’ddonetomaskourscentsbutIsuspectedthatifanyonecamelookingforustonightortomorrowmorning,they’dfindatrailofprintsinthesnowthatjust…stopped.
Lyla’sbreathingbecamelaboredasweclimbed.Shepushedalockofsweatyhairoffhertemple.
“Wantabreak?”Iasked.
Sheshookherhead.
“We’realmostthere,”Veratoldus.
Thescentofsnowandrockandwindfilledtheair.Ibreathedinthecoldair,hoveringclosetoLylawithmyhandsatthereadyincasesheslipped.
WhenIglancedbackatCormac,hisgazewasgluedonLyla.Onmyhands.“You’retogether.”
“Yeah.”Andifhecamenearher,ifhesomuchaslookedatherthewrongwayormadeheruncomfortable,I’dslithisfuckingthroat.
Cormacnoddedandbackedoff,givingusmorespace.
Wehikedforanothertenminutesuntilthegroundleveledoffintoacanyonbetweencliffs.Clustersoftreesandbushesgrewonthecanyon’sfloor.Iscannedthearea,assumingwe’dkeepgoing,butdidadoubletakewhenIspottedasheltertuckedagainstamassiverock.
ThehutwaslargerthanI’dexpected.Ithadfourwallsallmadefromsmalltreetrunks.Theroofwascoveredinmossandfoliagetokeeptheheatinside.
Cormachadbuilthisdaughterahome.
Itwasfarfromanyknowntrail.Noonewouldseeitfromanaerialview.Andgiventhewinding,miserablepathtogethere,itwasunlikelyanyrandomhikerorhunterwouldmakeitthisfar.
Nowonderthey’dlivedhereundetectedfortwoyears.
Vera’sframerelaxedaswestrodetowardtheshelter.Sheopenedthedoor,holdingitopenforLyla.“Comeonin.”
Lyladuckedpasther,steppinginside.Verafollowed.
Ihungback,andwhenCormacwascloseenough,Istrucksofastheneversawitcoming.Myfistslammedintohisnose.
Bloodgushedfromhisnostrils,drippingdownhischin.
“Fuck,”hehissed,pinchingitwithbothhands.
“ThatwasforLyla,youmotherfucker.”CHAPTERTWENTY-FOURVANCE
“Dad!”Veragaspedwhenwewalkedintotheirshelter.Home.Hut.WhateverthefuckIwassupposedtocallthisplace.“OhmyGod.”
“I’mfine.”Cormacheldupahandstreakedwithblood.Thebleedinghadstoppedandhe’ddonehisbesttowipehisnoseandfacecleanoutsidebeforeresettingtheboneI’dbroken,buthestilllookedlikeshit.“I,um…tripped.”
“Youtripped?”Veralookedbetweenus.
Cormacdidn’ttrip.
“Yeah,”hemuttered,goingtoasmallbowlpositionedagainstthewall.Itwasfulloffreshwater.Theymusthaveasupplysomewhereclose.Hepickedupadingycloththathadseenbetterdays,thenwashedhisfaceclean.Butevenwiththebloodgone,hisskinwaspinkandswollen.
I’dhithimwitheverythingIhad,andtomorrow,hiseyeswouldbeasblackasLyla’shadbeenthedaywe’dmet.Itservedtheassholeright.Myknuckleswerebeginningtoache,butdamn,thathadfeltgood.
Lylamovedtomyside,positioningherselfasfarawayfromCormacasthecrampedspacewouldallow.
Iputmyarmaroundhershoulders,pinningherclose,asIsurveyedthesingleroom.
Againstthebackwallweretwobedrolls.Theyeachrestedonawoodenplatformthatliftedtheblanketsaboutafootofftheground.Thecots,similartotheshelter’swalls,weremadefromneatlycutandtrimmedbranchesaboutthreetofourinchesthick.Theywereheldtogetherwithparachutecord.NodoubtsomethingVerahadboughtduringhertripsintovarioustowns.
Theknotskeepingthebranchestogetherwerefamiliarandclean.
Inouryearstogetherontheforce,Cormachadtaughtmealot,buttheoneareawhereI’dalwayshadmoreknowledgewaswithtyingknots.Square.Bowline.Prusik.Doublefisherman’s.IhadtheScoutstothankforthatskill.Asakid,I’dpracticedtyingknotsforhoursandhours.ThenI’dtaughtCormac.
Thenhe’dusedthoseknotstomakethishomeforhisdaughter.He’dbuiltaplacetokeepherfromtheworld.Fromme.
“Timetoexplain,”Isaid,crossingmyarmsovermychest.
Cormacfoldedthebloodyragandsetitaside.HelookedtoVera,archinghiseyebrows.
Asilentconversationpassedbetweenthem.They’dhadthatbeforetoo,liketheycouldreadeachother’sthoughts.
Whateverpassedbetweenthemmadehershakeherhead.“I’llgetfreshwaterfordinner.”
Shegrabbedaflashlightfromasmall,handmadeshelfbesideherbedroll,thenwentoutside.
CormacwatchedVeraleave,thenexhaled.Whenhelookedup,itwasn’tatme,butLyla.“I’msorryforwhatIdidtoyou.Veradoesn’tknow.”
Lylastiffened.“AndI’mguessingyou’dliketokeepitthatway?”
“Idon’thavemanysecretsfrommydaughter.SheknowswhoIam.You’rewelcometotellher.”
“Whydidn’tyou?”Lylaasked.
Heswallowedhard.“I’mnotexactlyproud—”
“Thatyoutriedtokillme.”
“Ihadnointentionofkillingyou.Ipanicked.Icamedownlowerthanusualtohunt.We’vebeenstockingupforwinter,andit’sbeenstressful.Whenyouwalkeduponmelikethat…notmanypeoplecansneakuponme.AndbesidesVera,Ihaven’tseenanotherpersoninalongtime.Neededtomakesureyou’dstayquietlongenoughformetogetthehelloutofthere.”Cormacjudderedandastrange,farawaylookflashedoverhisface.Itwasalmostlikehecouldn’tbelievewhathe’ddone.“Igotspooked.”
“SoyouchokedmeuntilInearlypassedoutandleftmebesideagutpile,whereanyotherpredatorcouldhavecomealongandfinishedthejobyou’dstarted.”
Shewasn’tgoingtomakethiseasyonhim.Goodforyou,Blue.
“Iwatchedyougetup,”hesaid.“Imadesureyouwereokay.ThenIfollowedyoubacktoyourcar.”
Lyla’seyesnarrowed.“HowdoIknowthat’strue?”
“Youdriveanavy-blueHonda.”
“Oh,”shemuttered.
SoCormachadhurther,thenfollowedhertomakesureshewasokay.Thatwassomething,Iguess.Isureasfuckwasn’tgoingtothankhim,butmaybeIshouldn’thavehithimquitesohard.
Nah.Hedeservedtobepunchedagainforwhathe’ddone.
Toallofus.
Lylablewoutalongbreathandwentquiet.Apparentlyshewasdonetalkingabouttheriver.Timetomoveontoadifferentdiscussion.
“ShouldwewaitforVera?”Ijerkedmychinatthedoor.
Cormacwalkedtohisbedrollandsatdownonitsend,leaninghiselbowsonhisknees.“Shewon’ttalkaboutit.FouryearsandIstilldon’tknoweverythingthathappenedthatnight.”
“What?”Fouryearsandshehadn’tspokenaboutit.“Why?”
“Iusedtoask.I’dbeghertotellme.She’djuststoptalkingentirely.Afterawhile,Idecideditdidn’treallymatter.HadleyandElsiearegone.”Hisvoicecracked.“Iwasn’tgoingtorisklosingVeratoo.”
Sohedidn’tknowwhathadhappened?Whatthefuckwashappening?WhataboutNorah?Theevidencewasindisputable.He’dkilledher,right?WhywasVeratheonlyonewhoknewwhathadhappened?
“Youmightwanttositdown.”Cormacgesturedtothepackeddirtfloor.“Verawon’tcomebackinsideuntilwe’redonetalking.I’llbequickbecauseIdon’twantheroutsideinthedarkalonetoolong.Butthere’salotthathappened.AlotInevertoldyou.”
Noshit.Ikeptthatcommenttomyselfandtookaseatonthefloor.Thiswouldprobablybethespotwherewe’dsleeptonight.I’dtakethegroundandletLylasleeponmychest.TherewasnowayI’drisktakingherdownthemountain,notonsuchasteepclimbafternightfall.
Lylaclaimedthespacebesideme,herbodytuckedclose.Thenwewaited,bothwatchingasCormacstaredatthedoor,likehewantedtobeanywherebutthishut.
“Bestwaytodothisistostartatthebeginning.Theverybeginning,”hesaid.“DidIevertellyouthatNorahandImetinabar?”
“Yes.”Once.“Youweretherewithfriends.Shewasalone.Youtookonelookatherandditchedyourcrowd.Thenyouproposedthenextday.”
Hehuffed.“Notexactlyhowithappened.Thatwasthestorysheinventedforthegirls.TherealtruthwasthatIwastherewithfriends.Shewasalone.Iwenttothemen’sbathroomandfoundherpassedoutinastallwithaheroinneedlestuckinherarm.”
IflinchedsoviolentlyLylagasped.“Whatthefuck?”
“Ididn’tproposethenextday,”Cormacsaid,draggingapalmoverhisstubbledcheek.Hehadmoregrayhairnowthanyearsago.Thewhitestrandsblendedwiththered.“IwenttovisitherinthehospitalItookhertofromthebar.Dayafterthat,wentbackagain.Itoldherthatonceshegotoutofrehabtocallme.I’dbuyheracookies-and-creammilkshakefrommyfavoritediner.”
Hisvoicewasflat.Dead.Nothingakintothewayheusedtotalkabouthiswife.
Theloveofhislife.
ThismanhadlovedNorahwitheveryfiberofhisbeing.Howcouldhetalkaboutherwithoutahintofemotion?
“Shegotclean.Andwhensheleftrehab,shefoundme.Iboughtherthatmilkshake.”Hisjawclenchedlikehewasholdingbackacurse.
“Wetookitslow,”hesaid.“Or,we’dplannedtotakeitslow.UntilwegotpregnantwithVera.Thatchangedeverything.NorahandIgotmarried.ShestayedhomewiththebabywhileIworked.Andforawhile,everythingwasperfect.Toofuckingperfect,Iguess.WhenVerawasaboutninemonthsold,IcamehometofindNorahpassedoutdrunkinthebathtub.Verawasinhercrib,dirtydiaper,screaming.Starving.Becausehermotherhaddecidedinsteadofeatinganormalbreakfast,she’ddownaliterofvodkainstead.”
Thiswasajoke.Thishadtobeajoke,right?Alie?ExceptIknewCormac.Evenafterfouryearsofhatinghim,Iknewthiswasthetruth.“Younevertoldmeanyofthis.”
“Noonereallyknew.ItallhappenedwhenwewerelivinginAlaska.Norahpromiseditwouldneverhappenagain.Shesaiditwaspostpartumdepression.Thatandthelong,darkwinters.Sowegotheronsomemedication.Istartedsearchingforjobsinthelowerforty-eight.LandedinIdaho.”
Cormacwastenyearsolderthanme,andI’dalwayslookeduptohimlikeabrother.Clearly,abrotherIknewfuckallabout.Itwaslikehe’dhadthiswholeotherlifethathe’dnevershared.
“Norahwasbetterafterwemoved.Normalseasons,sunshine,helped.Beingawayfromherfamilyhelped.Theywereastoxicasthosedrugsshe’dbeenhookedonwhenI’dfoundher.Butthere’sareasonIwaitedsolongtohavemorekids.IneededtomakesureNorahwassolid.Stable.”
Norahhadbeensolid.Shehadbeenstable.She’dlovedherdaughters.She’ddotedonthemjustliketherestofus.ThemostI’deverseenherdrinkwereacoupleglassesofredwinewiththeoccasionaldinner.Maybeabeerifwewerealloutontheboatintheheatofsummer.
She’dbeenagoodmother.She’dalwaysmadesurethegirlsbrushedtheirteethanddidtheirhomework.She’dbraidedtheirhairandmadethemeatatleasttwobitesofvegetablesbeforetheycouldhaveatreat.
Myworldwastippingupsidedownagain,likeIwaslivinginanhourglassandcouldn’tfigureoutwhichwaythesandwasflowing.Whowasthebadguyhere?
Cormac?Norah?
EverythingI’dthought,everythingI’dbelieved,wasbullshit.I’dbeenlivinginaworldofsmokeandmirrors.
ThesepeopleI’dlovedhadomittedsomuchofthetruth.Iwasn’tsurewhattothink.Icouldn’ttrustthem.Icouldn’ttrustmyownmemories.
Lyla’shandslippedintomine.
Onetouch.Thedizzyingthoughtsstopped.Thefrustrationebbed.
Ilookeddownintothosedazzlingblueeyesandfoundsteady.
Lylaheldmyhand,andIheldhers.AndwelistenedasCormaccontinuedtorepaintthepastwithuglycolors.
“Iwatchedherlikeahawkafterthetwinswereborn.Irarelyleftheralone.IfIwasworking,I’dhavefriendsjustrandomlypopby.I’dcallconstantly.Shewas…great.Happy.Weweregreat.Wewerehappy.”Cormactossedoutahand.“Hell,whyamItellingyouthis?Youwerethere.”
“Yeah.”I’dbeenthere.I’dwitnessedthisgreathappiness.
Untilithadallgoneupinflames.
“Whenmyparentsdied,Iusedmyinheritancetobuytheplaceonthelake.Boughttheboatbecauseshewantedtoteachthegirlshowtowaterski.Shegotintoscrapbookingbecauseshewasworriedwewouldn’trememberwhatthegirlswerelikewhentheywerelittle.Everythingwasgood.”Cormacclosedhiseyes.“Thatfuckingbitchmademebelieveeverythingwasgood.”
Ijerked.Never,notonce,hadIheardCormaccallNorahabitch.Evenifthey’dbeeninasquabble,he’dnevertarnishedhername.
“Thegirlswerebusy,”hesaid.“Iwasbusy.Wehadanactivityeverynight.Basketball.Softball.Swimming.Hadleywantedtotakeactinglessons.Elsiedecidedshewantedtowriteabook.”Cormac’seyesfloodedandhesniffled,wipingawayatear.“Itstillhurts…tosaytheirnames.”
WhichwaswhyI’drarelyspokenthemmyself.
Hetookaminute,breathingthroughthepain.Theresatafathermissingtwobeautifuldaughters.Mourningtwobeautifuldaughters.
Notakiller.
Hehadn’tkilledthem.
I’dbelievedhehad,forfouryears.Maybe.Ormaybedeepdown,thereasonI’dbeensodeterminedtofindhimwasbecauseI’dknowninmysoulhewouldn’thavemurderedthegirls.
Hesuckedinasharpbreath,pullinghimselftogether.
“AfriendofNorah’sfromhighschoolcametovisitusinIdaho.Ineverknewtheguy.HewasinherlifebeforeImether.Honestly,Ididn’tthinkmuchaboutit.Theymetuponceforlunch,thenhewasgone.Guessthatlunchwasallittook.”
“Tookforwhat?”
“Tookforhertospiral.”
No.Noway.Wewouldhaveseenit.
Cormacmetmygaze,thosesadeyesboringintomine.“You’rethinkingweshouldhavenoticed,right?Ifshewasdrinkingorusing,weshouldhaveseenthesigns?”
“Weshouldhave.”
“Ishouldhave.”Heslappedhischest,soharditmadeLylajump.“Ishouldhaveseenit.AndIdidn’thaveafuckingclue.NotuntilIcamehomethatnight.NotuntilIfoundherdrunk.High.Alone.”
Cormacburiedhisfaceinhishands,likeifhephysicallyshutouttheworld,hecouldmakeitgoaway,hecouldstoptalkingaboutthatnight.
Lyla’sgriponmyhandtightenedasshepeeredatthedoor,likeshecouldseeVerathroughthebranches.
VerahadbeentherewithNorahthatnight.WithHadleyandElsie.Andwhateverhappenedhadlikelyscarredherforlife.
Cormachunghishead,thetearsuncatchableastheydrippedtothedirt.“Ikissedthegirlsthatmorningbeforetheygotonthebus,butIdidn’ttellthemIlovedthem.ShouldhavetoldthemIlovedthem.ButIwasinahurry,soIjustkissedtheirheadsandshuffledthemoutthedoor.ThenIwenttowork.”
Withme.
He’dcometoworkwithme.
“Normalday.”Hesniffled.“Thatthunderstormhadrolledin,butotherwise,justanormalday.”
“Yeah.”Ithadbeenanormalday.Thelastnormalday.
“Ihadthatmeetingattheschoolafterwork,remember?Allthevolunteercoacheshadtogoinanddotheirconcussiontraining.Itwasanoffnightforonce.Thegirlsdidn’thaveanything.ItextedNorahthatI’dbringhomeapizzafordinnerafterthemeeting.”
There’dbeenapizzaattheirhouse—thecrimescene.Halfpepperoni,halfveggie.
Ithadbeenonthecoffeetableinthelivingroom,notthekitchen.Theboxhadbeenunopened,thefooduntouched.Likehe’dgottendistracted,sothepizzahadbeensetaside.
“Shewasoutofhermind.”Cormacloweredhisvoice,eitherbecauseitwashardtovoiceorbecauseheworriedVerawaswithinearshot.“Shekeptmumblingaboutswimminglessons.Howthegirlsneededmoreswimminglessons.Howtheycouldn’tgooutontheboatagainuntiltheyhadmorepracticeswimming.”
Whatthefuck?Thegirlshadbeengreatswimmers,especiallyVera.She’dbeenonthehighschool’sswimteam.Thereweren’tmanysummerweekendswhenCormacandIhadn’ttakenthegirlstubingorwaterskiing.
“Igotspooked,”hesaid.
Itwasthesamethinghe’dtoldLyla.Wasthatwhyhe’dchokedherattheriver?BecauseithadremindedhimtoomuchofNorah?Maybehe’dbeenthinkingabouthiswifeinthatmoment.Maybehe’dbeenthinkingabouthisdaughters,andwhenLylahadsurprisedhim,he’dsnapped.
“IkeptaskingNorahwhatshewastalkingabout,”hesaid.“Igotcloseenoughandsmelledthebooze.Sawhowglassyhereyeswere.Shedidn’tevenrecognizeme.ShethoughtIwasalifeguard.SheaskedmeifIcouldgogetherkidsfromthepoolbecauseitwastimefordinner.”
Theydidn’thaveapool.
Justthelake.
“Iwentoutside.Iscreamedandscreamedandscreamedforthegirls.Theboathadbeenrunupontheshore,nottiedtothedock.Thewaves,theywere…”Asobbrokefreefromhismouth.“Mygirlsweregoodswimmers.Butnotthatgood.Notinthatkindofstorm.”
Thehutwasstillforafewlongminutes.TheonlysoundcamefromCormacashecriedandswipedathistears.
“Iwentbackinsideandslappedher.Islappedhersofuckinghard,Vance.Justsoshe’dsnapoutofit.Tellmewhathadhappened.”
Theautopsyhadshownaninjurytohercheek.Thecauseofdeath,strangulation.There’dbeenalcoholinherbloodstream,butwe’dallassumedshe’dhadonetoomanyglassesofwinefromtheopenbottleinthekitchen.There’dbeennonoteofdrugs.Thoughdependingonwhatshe’dbeenon,somesubstanceslikeLSDmetabolizedquickly.Still,wouldthemedicalexaminerhaveeventhoughttotestfornarcotics?
Smalltown.Well-knownfamily.Tragicincident.Notasingleperson,includingme,hadthoughttoinvestigateNorah
NotwhenCormachadrunandcementedhisguiltinourminds.
“Shesaidshetookthemoutforswimminglessons.”Cormaclookedatthedoor.
Mygazetrackedhis.
Outsidewastheonlypersonwhoknewwhathadhappenedonthatboat.
“Ikilledher.”
Iwhippedbacktofacehim.Therewasnoremorseinhisvoice.Justfact.
“Shedrownedthem.Shedrownedmylittlegirls.”Hiseyesblazedbehindmoretears.“SoIkilledher.”
Thiswaswhyhe’drun.Alltheevidencethathadpointedtohimwastrue.He’dkilledNorah.
Thatfuckingbitch.
Fouryears,I’dblamedCormacfortheirdeaths.IguessI’dgetthenextfortytohateNorahforitinstead.
Lylaswipedatherowncheek,catchingafewtearsforkidsshe’dneverknown.Ilovedherforthattoo.Sheleaneddeeperintomyside,asilenthug,thenheldtighttomyhandwhilewewaitedforCormactodryhisface.
“Sorry.”Heshookhishead,sittingtaller.“I’venevertalkedaboutthis.”
“NotwithVera?”Iasked.
“No.Wedon’t…it’seasier.”
Easieriftheydidn’tmentionthatnight.Easieriftheydidn’tspeakHadley’sorElsie’snames.
“Ihadthegirlscremated,”Iblurted.
NorahandCormac’swillhadrequestedtheybeburiedinplotsthey’dpurchasedatacemetery.Buttherehadn’tbeenanyspecificwishesforthegirls.Parentsdidn’tplanfortheirchildren’sdeaths.Therehadn’tbeentwoopenspacesbesideNorahinthecemetery,justtheoneforCormac.AndIhadn’twantedtoseparatethetwins.
AblessingnowthatIknewthetruth.SoI’dhadthemcremated.
“Rememberthattrailwefoundagesago,theonethatledtothatmeadowwithallthewildflowers?”
Cormacnodded.
“Itooktheirashesthere.”Ithadbeenthehardestdayofmylife.
Heputahandoverhisheart,likehewastryingtokeepitfrombreaking.“Iknewyou’dtakecareofthem.”
Whilehe’dbeentakingcareofVera.
“HowdidyoufindVera?”Iasked.
“AfterNorah,Itooktheboatout.Ididn’thaveadamncluewheretolook.Itwasdark.Pouringrain.Wavescrashingoverthehull.StayedoutuntilIwassureI’ddrownwiththem.IonlycamebacktoshorebecauseIneededmoregas.Thenthereshewas,lyingonthedock.Soakingwet.Numb.Shemadeitback.Hersistersdidn’t.”
Lylaleanedintomyarm,mufflingthesoundofherowncryinginthesleeveofmycoat.
Oh,God.Mythroatclosed.Mynoseburned.Myowneyesblurredwithtears,onecascadingdownmycheek.
WhathorrorhadVerasurvived?Howscaredhadthetwinsbeenbeforethey’dbeenpulledunder?
Ipinchedthebridgeofmynose,breathingfrommymouthasmyheartbrokeforwhatfeltlikethethousandthtime.
HadleyandElsieweregone.Killedbytheirmother,notfather.Andgoddamnit,Imissedthem.
Itwasn’tfair.Itwasn’tfuckingfair.
“I’msorry,”Iwhispered.
“Metoo.”
“Why’dyourun?”
Cormacshrugged.“Itwaseitherrunorgotoprison.Iwasn’tleavingVera,notafterthat.”
Sohe’dfoundawayforthemtostaytogether.
“Verasaidyou’releavingMontana,”Lylasaid.
Cormacnodded.“Wecan’tstay.IfVancefoundme,it’sonlyamatteroftimebeforesomeoneelsestumblesuponus.We’vebeenheretoolonganyway.”
Mystomachknottedattheideaofhimtakingheraway.Ofdisappearingagain.
“Wherewillyougo?”
“ThegoalwasalwaystogettoCanada,butacoupleyearsago,wewerecomingthroughthisareaandVeragotsick.Foundthisplace.Shedidn’twanttoleave.”
“Istilldon’twanttoleave.”Verapushedthroughthedoor,armscrossedoverherchest.
Howlonghadshebeenlistening?
“It’snotupfordebate.”Cormacstood,hishairnearlybrushingtheshelter’sroof.He’dmadethishomejusttallenoughthathecouldwalkwithoutbumpinghishead.
“I’mnotgoingthistime,”shesaid.“Notagain.”
“Andwhatwillyoudo?Livehere?Alone?”
Verasighed,droppingherchin.“Youcouldstay.”
Hecrossedthespace,pullingherintohisarms.“YouknowwhyIcan’t.”
No,hecouldn’tstay.Andthiswasn’talifeforatwenty-one-year-oldyoungwoman.Shedeservedmore.
Shedeservedtheworld.
“Shecancomewithme.”Ishovedtomyfeet,helpingLylatohers.MaybeCormaccouldn’tstay.Maybehewasokaylivingalifeoffthegrid.Butthatwasn’talifeforVera.
“What?”Cormacwhirled,aglareonhisface.
“Youreallywantthistobeherlife?”Icircledafingerintheair.
Hisglareflickedtotheroofhe’dputovertheirheads.Thenitvanished,fasterthanIcouldblink.He’dprobablythoughtaboutthisalready.He’dlikelylookedintothefutureandknownsomethingwouldeventuallyhavetogive.
Thiswasnotthelifehe’dwantedforhisdaughter.
Hefacedher,givingherasadsmile.Butwhenhespoke,hisvoicewasfirm.Absolute.“You’regoingwithVance.”
Maybehe’dexpectedVeratoargue.
Butshewhispered,“Okay.”CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVELYLA
Fromthemomentwe’dawakenedintheshelterthismorning,I’dbeenreadytoleavethismountain.
ButforVera,morninghadcometoosoon.
“MaybeIshouldstay.”Verastartedtoremovethebackpackstrappedtohershoulders,butCormac’shandssettledonhers,stoppingherbeforeshecouldtakeitoff.
“No,love.YouneedtogowithVance.”
“But,Dad—”
“Youwereright.”Hebenttokissherforehead.“Wecan’tdothisforever.Youcan’tlivelikethis.”
“Whataboutyou?”Hereyesswamwithunshedtears.“Willyoustay?”
Hecuppedhercheek,givingherasadsmile.Buthedidn’tanswer.
Vera’sconfidenceinthisdecisionhadwaveredsincelastnight.
Cormac’shadcemented.
Itwasdawn.Thesnowcappedmountainpeakshighaboveourheadsweretingedwithcanaryyellow.Itwasbarelylightenoughtoseethedarkforestwe’dhavetohikethroughtoVance’struck.
Withanyluck,we’dmakeitbackintimeformetocallmybrothersandtellthemwewouldn’tbejoiningthemontoday’ssearchsotheywouldn’tworry.
Instead,onceweleftthesemountains,we’dbegoingimmediatelytomyhousetohideVeraandmakeaplan.And,hopefully,getsomerest.Myheadfeltfuzzy,thelackofsleepmakingmysoreandtiredlimbsfeelsluggish.
Noonehadsleptwellinthatcrampedhut.CormachadvolunteeredtosleeponthedirtwhileVerahadtakenhisbedroll—Ihadn’twantedtosleeponhisbed.Vancemusthavesensedit,sohe’daskedVeratotakeitinstead.Thenwe’dsleptcurledtogetheronhers.
He’dheldmeallnight,hisheartpressedagainstmyspine,ourclothesandathinblankettokeepuswarm.That,andthesmallfireCormachadstokedthroughoutthenight.Sleephadcomeinminutes,ratherthanhours.Everyoneinthatshelterhadbeentooanxioustotrulyshutdown.
We’dallfearedwhatthismorningwouldbring.
Heartache.
Irrevocablechange.
Agut-wrenchinggoodbye.
Vancestoodatmyside,hishandonthesmallofmyback.HewasatthereadyincaseIswayedonmyfeet.
IthurttowatchVeraandCormactogether,thesetwopeoplewhohadcountedononlyeachotherforthepastfouryears.They’dsharedgrief.They’dsharedthisunthinkabletragedy.
Cormac’sstoryhadreplayedinmymindonalooplastnight.Thevividpicturehe’dpaintedofNorah.Ofthatnight.
Iprobablywouldhavestrangledhertoo.
Myhandliftedtomythroat.Thebruisesandtendernessweregone.Iwasfullyhealed,insideandout.AllthatremainedwasmyhatredforCormac.Exceptitwasdifferentthismorning.Dullandfragile.
WouldIeverlikeCormacGallagher?No.I’dalwaysholdsomeanger,maybeabitoffear,whenIpicturedhisfaceandthescarthatinterruptedhischeek.
ButIwouldn’thatehim.Pity,yes.Butnothate.
“Givemeahug,”hetoldVera,haulingherintohischest.
Shebegantocry,herbodyshakingagainsthis.“Iloveyou,Daddy.”
“AndIloveyou,Vera.”Hekissedherhair,swallowinghard.Hewasholdingbacktearsbutjustbarely.“NeverforgethowmuchIloveyou.”
“WillIseeyouagain?”
“Ofcourse.”
Itsoundedlikealie.
Vancedroppedhischin,hisjawclenchingasheworkedtokeephisownemotionsincheck.
TherewasnoknowingifCormacwouldeverseehisdaughteragain.AnothermanmighthaverefusedVance’soffer.MighthaveinsistedonkeepingVeraclose.
MaybebecauseIhadsuchagooddad,IcouldappreciateCormacasafather.Irespectedhissacrificeforhisdaughter.
“Okay.”Cormackissedheragain,thenlethergo.“Let’sgo.”
Verastolealong,lastinglookattheshelterthathadbeenherhomeforthepasttwoyears.Tearsstreamedfromherbrowneyes.Butshedidn’tmoveherfeet.Instead,likeshecouldn’tmakeherselftakethatfirststep,sheheldoutherhand.
Cormactookit.
Hetookherhandbecausehe’dbeentakingitforherentirelife.He’dbeenthemanwho’dhelditforherfirststep.Nowhewastakingitagain,possiblyforthelasttime,tohelpherwalkintoabetterlife.
Myheart.Iturnedfromthem,hidingmytears.
Vanceturnedtoo,hisjawticking.Hiseyespained.Buttherewasasuretyinhisgazetoo.Inhisheart,heknewthiswastherightchoiceforVera.SoIchosetotrusthim,togivehimthatfaith.
Withanod,hestartedawayfromtheshelter.Somehow,heknewexactlytherightpathtotakeovertherockygroundeventhoughwe’donlybeenacrossitonce.
Thefourofuswalkedinsilence,alineofsolemnhearts,untilwereachedtherockfacethatwe’dhavetoscaledowntothenhikethroughtheforest.
Vancewentfirst,thenstoodatthebottom,armsoutstretchedtocatchmeasIjumpeddown.
“Thanks,”Itoldhim,breathless.Howwasitthathikingdownhillwasalmostharderthanup?
“Youdoingokay?”heasked,voicelow.
No.“Areyou?”
Hecuppedmyface,histhumbstrokingmycheek.“No.”
Maybetodaywasn’tourgoodbye,butitwascoming.IshovedthatthoughtasideandwatchedasVerascaledtherockwithpracticedease.
ShereachedthebottomandlookedtoCormac,probablyexpectinghimtocomedownnext.
Butatthetopoftherock,wherehe’dbeenstandingjustamomentago,therewasnothing.
Cormacwasgone.CHAPTERTWENTY-SIXLYLA
Ninehours.ThatwasallVanceandIhadleft.Ninehours.
Itwasn’tenough.
Neverinmylifehadtwodayspassedsoquickly.Ikeptwishingfortimetoslowdown,butfromthemomentwe’dhikeddownthatmountainwithaweepingVera,thesecondsandminutesandhourshadevaporated.
MondaywaswhenVanceandIhadwokenuptothatbeepingalarmfromthegamecamera.NowitwasThursday.HowwasitalreadyThursday?
Theywereleavingtomorrow.Friday.
Injustninehours.
AsIstoodatthekitchensink,rinsingthedishesfromdinner,Irefusedtolookatthewindowinfrontofme.Irefusedtoacknowledgethatthesunhadalreadyset.ThatFridaywasalmosthere.Buteveninmyperiphery,Icouldseethedarkbluecreepintomyyard.Icouldseetheglitterofthosefirstbravestars.
Ireallyneededacurtaintocoverthatfuckingwindow.
Vancestrodeintotheroom,hisbarefeetheavyagainstthehardwood.Hesethisphoneonthecounter,leaningagainstitandcrossinghisarms.“CaptainandIaremeetingfirstthingMondaymorning.”
“Good.”Thatwasgood,right?Thiswastheplan.Butmyheartwasinfreefall,sinkingdeeperandfaster.“DidyoutellhimaboutVera?”
“No.I’llsavethatforMonday.HethinksIwanttotalkabouttheshooting.ProbablyhopingI’llquit.”
Wouldhequit?
IfVance’sjobwasn’tkeepinghiminIdaho,wouldhecomeback?Iwasterrifiedtoask.TerrifiedtolearnthatIwasn’tenoughforhimtouproothislife.SoIdidn’task.
“Howdoyouthinkshe’sdoing?”Vanceasked,lookingattheceiling.
Upstairswastheguestbedroom.Verahadexcusedherselfafterdinnerforahotshower.Shekeptsayingitwasbecauseshe’dmissedhot,runningwater.Really,Ithinkshewentintheresowewouldn’thearhercry.
Forthepasttwomornings,I’dwokenupwonderingifI’dfindtheguestbedroomempty.IfVerawoulddecidethatbecomingpartofsocietywasoverratedandleavetotrackdownCormac.Ifanyonecouldfindhimagain,itwouldbeher.
Yetdespitemyfears,eachday,she’dshuffleddownstairs,halfasleep,hereyespuffyandredfromthetearsshe’dbeencryingintoapillow,andsaidgoodmorning.
“She’sstillhere.That’sagoodsign.”Idriedmyhandsonatowel,thenmovedintohisside,pressingmynosetohischestanddrawinginthatVancesmell.
Theywereleavingsoon.Butfortonight,theywerebothhere.
Myphonerangonthecounter,soVancestretchedtograbitandhanditover.
“Hey,”Ianswered.
“Howareyoufeeling?”Mateoasked.
“Onthemend.”
Thelietastedbitteronmytongue,butkeepingVera’ssecretwasparamount.SoI’dliedtomyfamilyandtoldthemthatI’dgottensickafterthathikewithSheriffZalinski.Mysuddenillnesswasthereasonwhywehadn’tmetatGriff’sthenextmorning.AnditwasthereasonwhyIhadn’tbeentoworkindays
Guiltforburdeningmyparentsandsiblingswiththecoffeeshopcrawledbeneathmyskin.ButI’denduredit,knowingitwouldbeshort-lived.Tomorrowmorning,I’dsaygoodbyetoVanceandVera,thengobacktowork.Gobacktomylife.
EdenCoffeewouldonceagainbemysanctuary.
“I’llbebacktomorrow,”ItoldMateo.“Howdiditgotoday?”
“Crystaltriedtoteachmehowtousetheespressomachine.”
Igrimaced.“Pleasetellmeit’snotbroken.”
“Notbroken.”Hechuckled.“ButI’mneverallowedtotouchitagain.”
MomhadpasseddownherculinaryskillstoKnoxandme.Taliawasn’thelplessinthekitchenbutcookingwasn’therpreferredpastime.MateoandEloise,well…theywerehelpless.
“Thanksforbeingthere,Matty,”Itoldhim.
“Noproblem.Itwasquiet.Crystaldidmostofthework.”
Imadeamentalnotetotextheranotherthankyou.Withouther,withoutallofthem,Iwouldn’thavehadthisextratimewithVance.
“Griffneedsahandtomorrowattheranch,”hesaid.“ButIcancometotownifyouneedanotherday.”
Mateowasapilot,andhe’dspentlastyearinAlaska,flyingplanestodeliversuppliestoremoteareasofthestate.MomhadbeenconvincedthatMattywouldnevercomehomegivenhowbadhe’dbeenaboutvisiting.Thisspring,he’dreturnedtoQuincyforwhatI’dassumedwasavacation,excepthehadn’tleft.We’dallbeensohappyhe’dmovedhomethatnoneofushadquestionedwhy.
Andhehadn’tofferedmuchofanexplanation.
Sincehe’dmovedback,Mateohadpitchedineverywhere,includingthecoffeeshop.Whereverhewasneeded,hecame.Liketherestofus,hehadspenthisteenageyearsworkingontheranchandatthehotel.
I’dfiguredthisarrangementwouldlastamonthortwo.Thathe’dgetrestlessandmovebacktoAlaska.Maybehe’dstartflyingaroundMontana.ButasfarasIknew,hehadn’tspentmuchtimeatallinhisplane.
Andasasuckybigsister,Ihadn’tpressed.
Later,afterVancewasgone,I’dfindtherighttimetopress.Justnottonight.
Besides,Mateodidn’tseemreadytoshare.ButIdidn’twantwhateverhewasfeelingtofester,notthewayCormacandVera’ssecretshadworsenedfromtoomanyyearsofbeingkeptinside.
Notthatlongago,allI’dwantedwastime.Timetothink.Timetofeel.Timetogrieve.MaybeMateojustneededmoretime.Sofornow,hehadareprieve.
“No,youdon’tneedtocomeintomorrow.I’msureI’llbefine.”Anotherlie.Tomorrow,Iwouldmostdefinitelynotbefine.“Thanksagain.”
“Allgood?”VanceaskedasIendedthecallandsetmyphoneaside.
“Yeah.I’mluckytohavethem.”
Herestedhischeekonthetopofmyhead.“I’llunderstandifyouwanttotellthemthetruth.”
“No.”ThiswasasecretI’dkeepfromeveryoneuntiltheendofmydays.
ForVera.ForVance.
Overthepasttwodays,Vancehadrarelyleftherside.He’dalwaysbeencloseby,readytogiveherahugwhenfreshtearsappeared.Iftherewasapersontogetherthroughthisroughpatch,itwasheruncleVance.
He’dguideherbacktolife.He’dbearthesecrets.He’dtellthelies.
We’dspenttwodaysformulatingaplanforVeratobecomeundeadwithoutsendingtheFBIchasingintotheMontanamountainssearchingforherfather.
VancewasgoingtoleaveMontanasuddenly.I’dtelleveryoneherethathe’dgottenaphonecallabouttheshooting’sinvestigationinIdaho.EvenWinnwouldn’tknowthetruth.
ItwouldbebestiftheworldbelievedVerahadneversetfootinQuincy,Montana.
VancewoulddrivehertoIdahotomorrowandthey’dspendtheweekendgettinghersettledintohishouse.Luckily,shewasclosetomysize,soI’dgivenhersomeclothes.Theonesshe’dbeenwearingforyearswereatthebottomofmygarbagecan.
OnMonday,Vancewouldmeetwithhiscaptainatthestation.HemighteventakeVeraalong.
Theirstorywouldbeasclosetothetruthaspossible.Hopefully,thatwouldensureitwasbelievable.Andthatifshewaspushedhardfordetails,Verawouldn’tstruggleansweringquestions.Thetruth.Justnotthewholetruth.
CormachadtakenVerathatnightfouryearsago.Truth.
HehadkilledNorah.Truth.
He’dkeptherintheremotewildernesseversince.Truth.
They’dleaveoutNorah’shistory.Atthispoint,itwouldbetoohardtoconvincetheworldthatCormacwasmostlyinnocent.Besides,nooneknewhiscurrentwhereabouts,Veraincluded.
Totheworld,Norahwouldremaininnocent.Cormacwouldremainthevillain.
He’dalwaysbeenthevillain,right?
Itdidn’tsitright.Notanymore.
Asfaraswhathadhappenedwithhersisters,well…Verahadn’ttoldCormac.Shehadn’ttoldVance.Eachtimethesubjectwasbroughtup,she’dleavetheroom.Nowayshe’dtellthepolice.Therewasn’tadoubtinmymind.
Thatstorywashersandhersalone.Maybeshe’dsharesomeday.Isuspectedthatwhoeverearnedthatconfessionwouldlikelyearnhershatteredhearttoo.Butfornow,itwaslockedaway.
“Doyouthinkthiswillwork?”IaskedVance.
“Idon’tknow.”Hesighed.“Ihopeso.”
“DoyouthinktheFBIwillcomehereandlookforCormac?”
“It’sdoubtful,consideringtheydidn’tcomewhenWinncalledweeksago.Butthere’sachancethey’llvisitafterVerareappears.Theymightmaketheroundstoeverywhereshetellsthemthey’vebeenandscopeitout.Butifwedoagoodjobofsellingthelie,they’llfocusonIdaho.”
Whereshe’dclaimtohavepartedwayswithherfather.
“Doyouthinkthey’lleverfindhim?”
Vancescoffed.“Notadamnchance.”
VerawouldtelltheauthoritieseachofthestateswheresheandCormachadtraveledthesepastfouryears.She’dtellthemwhereCormacmightgo.She’dalsotellthemwhyshe’dstayedwithhim.She’dsharemoretruths.
She’dadmitthatshe’dwantedtogowithherfather.Thatshe’dstayedwithhim,nevertryingtoescapeorrunaway.Butafterfouryears,shenolongerwantedtolivethatlife.Soshe’dfinallybrokenfree.
Whenitcametothedetailsthatneededtobetold,Vancewouldbetheonetodeliverthebiggerlies.
Whatacoincidencethathe’dbeeninMontana,tryingtolocateherfather.Meanwhile,she’dbeenmakingherwaytohisdoorstepinIdaho.ItseemedeasiertospinacoincidencethanadmitVancehadfoundCormacandVera,thenletCormacgo.
Wouldhiscaptain,wouldtheauthorities,believethisstory?
God,Ihopedso.
“Ninehours,”Vancemurmured.
“IthoughtIwastheonlyonekeepingtrack.”Ileanedback,risinguponmytoesashebenttotakemymouth.
Histonguesweptacrossmylowerlip,butbeforewecoulddeepenthekiss,footstepsdescendingthestairsbrokeusapart.
Verawalkedintothekitchenwithdamphairandsadeyes.“IthinkI’mgoingtogotobed.WillIseeyouinthemorning?”
“Probablynot.”Tomorrow,Iwasheadingtotheshopatfourtocatchuponbakingbeforeweopened.VanceandVerawereplanningtoleaveQuincyaroundsix
Herchinquivered.“Thankyouforeverything,Lyla.”
“You’rewelcome.”Iwalkedoverandpulledherintoahug,thenwhisperedinherear,“Takecareofhim.”
Shenodded.“Iwill.”
“Takecareofyourselftoo.”
Veranodded,huggingmesotightittookmeoffguard.Itwasalmostlikeshedidn’trealizeherownstrength.Butdamn,shewasbrave.Somemightthinkthatlivingoffthegrid,hidingintheMontanamountainswouldbeahardlife.Ithinkwhatshewasdoingnowwastherealchallenge.
Shecoulddoit.Vancewouldn’tletherfall.
Ilethergoandswallowedthelumpinmythroat.“Goodnight.”
Goodbye.WouldIseeheragain?
“Night,kiddo.”Vancetookmyplace,givingherahug.
“Night.”Shesaggedagainsthimforalongmoment,thenwithawave,sheretreatedupstairs.
Hewaiteduntilshewasgone,thenfacedme.Inourtimetogether,I’dneverseenhimlooksomiserable.I’dneverseenthosestormyeyessofullofregret.“Idon’tknowwhat’sgoingtohappen.”
OtherthanplanningVera’sreemergence,wehadn’ttalkedaboutwhatwouldhappenaftertomorrow.Wehadn’ttalkedaboutus.
Ididn’twanttotalkaboutus.Ididn’twanthimtosayhe’dcall,onlytoforgetifhegotbusy.Ididn’twanthimtosayhe’dmakeavisit,onlyforittofallthrough.
“Nopromises.”Iwantednopromisesthathemightbreak.
“Lyla—”
“Please.Pleasedon’tmakemeanypromises.”
Ilovedhim.Ilovedhimsomuchithurtineverycellofmybeingtoknowhe’dbegonesoon.
Ifhebrokethosepromises,I’dresenthim.Mylovewouldturntohate.
Ijustwantedtolovehim.
Hehunghisheadandnodded.“Okay,Blue.”
“Thankyou.”
Vancesnaggedmyhandandturned,tuggingmebehindhimashewalkedthroughthehouse,flippingofflightsaswemadeourwaytowardthebedroom.“Wehaveninehours.We’renotspendingtheminthekitchen.”
Itwasthrilling.Itwasmisery.Thiswouldbeourlastnightunless—
No,Lyla.ThatwasaroadIwouldn’twander.IfIletmyselfgiveintothehopethatVancemightcomeback,myentirelifewouldstop.I’dwaitandwaitandwaitforthisman.
Andinthatwaiting,I’dwitheraway,daybyday.Dyingjustalittleifhedidn’treturn.
Sothishadtobeourgoodbye.
WereachedthebedroomandVancespun,slamminghismouthonmineassoonaswecrossedthethreshold.
Theacheinmyheartwasbrushedasidefornowbythesweepofhistongueagainsttheseamofmylips.
Iopenedforhim,soakingineverymomentofthatkiss.Thesoftnessofhislips.Thetasteofhistongue.Theheatfromhisdeliciousmouth.Thescrapeofthatbeard.
Ifthiswasthelastnight,thenIwantedittobeanightneitherofuswouldeverforget,soIgavehimeverythingIhad.Mypalmsflattenedontheironplaneofhischest,hisheartthrummingbeneathhisshirt.
Oneofhishandsstretchedbehindmyback,shovingthedoorclosed.Thenhebent,swoopedmeupbeneathmyassandcarriedmetothebed.
Wecrashed,amessoftangledlimbsandfrantickissesasweworkedtostripawayourclothes.
Heatradiatedoffhisbody,hotandliquifyingagainstmybareskin.Imeltedintothemattressashesettledhisweightonme,almostcrushingandsopowerful.God,Ilovedtobetrappedbeneaththisman.
Histongueflickedagainstmine,sendingashiverdownmyspine.Thenhebrokeaway,trailinghiswetmouthalongmyjawtomyear.“Fuck,butIwantyou,Lyla.”
“Thentakeme,”Ibreathed,wrappingmylegsaroundhiships.
Hereachedbetweenus,fistinghiscockashedraggeditthroughmydrenchedcenter.“Thisisn’tgoingtobesweetorslow.”
“Yes,”Ihissed.
“You’llfeelmefordays.”
Daysafterhewasgone.
Iarchedintohim,mynippleshardandpebbled,zingingastheyrubbedagainstthecoarsehaironhischest.
Hefilledmewithasinglethrust.
“Vance.”Hisnamewasamewlasmybodystretchedaroundhis.Mynailsdugintothecordedmusclesbracketinghisspine.
I’dleavemymarktoo.
Leaningup,IlatchedontohispulseasIkissedandsuckedagainsthiscollarbone.Inippedathim,myteethleavingenoughofabitethathegroaned.
“Youwantitharder?”Herammedhishipsforward,sendinghiscockimpossiblydeep.
“Oh,God,”Imoaned.“Yes.”
“Fuck,youfeelgood.”Hepulledoutonlytohammerinsideagain.
Strokeafterstroke,hedidn’tgivemeachancetocatchmybreath.Everytimehedroveustogether,theairrushedfrommylungs.
Hegrowledasasheenofsweatcoveredhisbody.Thenhebentandtookmythroatinhismouth,suckingsohardIknewexactlywhatI’dfindwhenIlookedinthemirror.Redmarks,pepperedalongthecolumnofmyneck.
Fortherestofmylife,Iwouldn’tseetheinvisiblebruisesfromCormac.
I’dseethehickeysVancehadgivenmeinstead.
Iloveyou.Iwouldn’tsaythosewords,buttheyraninmymindashekissedme.
Hewasthorough.Hewasdeliberate.
Vancemarkedmeashis.
Notthatheneededto.I’dbeenhisforweeks.
“Toomuch.”Myorgasmwasracingtowardmetoofast,toohard.Itwouldleavemeinruins.“It’stoomuch.”
“It’snotenough.”Vancedidn’tstop.Ifanything,mywhimperonlyspurredhimonfaster.Theupholsteredheadboardknockedagainstthewallinamutedthump,thump,thump.
Mytoescurled.Mybackarchedaspleasurefloodedmyveins.AndthenIwasgone,shatteringintotheoblivion.StarsexplodedbehindmyeyelidsasmypussyclenchedaroundVance’slength.
Hedidn’tstoporslow,notuntilheplanteddeepandcameonaroarintothecrookofmyneck.
Vance’sbodyshookwithmine,hismusclestautandtrembling.Thenhecollapsedontopofme,givingmehisfullweightforafewmomentsasourraggedbreathsfilledtheroom.Withaquickflip,heshiftedsoIlaybonelessonhischest.
MyearwaspressedagainsthisheartandIclosedmyeyes,memorizingthatsound.
Vance’shandtraileddownmyspine.Itwasn’tanabsent,mindlessmovement.Therewastoomuchpressureinhistouch.Hedidn’tdrawrandompatterns.Hetouchedmewithintent.Tomemorize?
Hisotherhandcametomythroat,touchingthemarksIknewwereblooming.“Youstillgotyourscarves?”
“Yes.”Asmiletuggedonmylips.
“Good.”
Heproppeduponanelbow,glancingattheclockonmynightstand.Afrownmarredhishandsomeface.“Eighthours.”
Beforemyhearthadachancetosink,herolledusagain,oncemoretrappingmeashishandsfoundmine,claspingthemwhilehegavemeatender,sweetkiss.
Eighthours.
Weusedthemall.Everyminute.Everysecond.
***
Toosoon,Iwassittingbehindthewheelofmycar,slowlybackingoutofthedriveway.
Vancestoodontheconcrete,hishandstuckedinhisjeanspockets.
Wehadn’tsaidgoodbye.We’dclimbedoutofbedthirtyminutesago,andwhileI’dshowered,he’dbegunpackingclothesinhissuitcase.
Thenhe’dwalkedmetothegarage,kissingmebeforeI’dslidintothedriver’sseat.Andnowhewasfollowingmedownthedriveway.
Ireversedintothestreet.
Vancestoppedattheedgeofthepavement.
Itwasdark,butIsawhimasclearlyasifitwerebroaddaylight.AndthiswashowI’drememberhim.
Disheveledhair.Ahandonhisjaw,rubbinghisbeard.Thattall,broadframecastintheshadowsoftwilightwiththebrighteststarsfightingthedawn.Gray-blueeyeslockedwithmine.
Heraisedahandintheair.
Ipressedoneagainsttheglass.
ThenIaimedmyeyesontheroad.
AndasIdroveaway,Ididn’tletmyselflookback.CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVENLYLA
“Lyla?”Talia’svoicerangthroughthekitchenatthecoffeeshop.
“Onesecond,”Icalledfromthewalk-inrefrigerator.Myvoicewasscratchy.I’dcomeinherehopingthecoolairwouldquelltheburninginmythroat.
ItwasinevitablethatI’dhavetotellmyfamilyVancewasgone,thathe’dleftthismorning.ButI’dhopeditwouldbeMateoorKnoxorGriffinwho’dcometotheshopfirst.Itwouldbeeasiertotelloneofthemtodisseminatethenews.
Unlikemysisters,mybrotherswouldn’twanttotalkaboutmyfeelings.Ididn’twanttotalkaboutmyfeelings.Theyweretooraw.
MaybeI’dgetluckyandTaliawouldwanttospendherlunchhourtalkingbabynames.Fingerscrossed.
Steelingmyspine,Igrabbedablockofmuensterandthebutter,thencarriedthemtothepreptablebeforesettingthemdowntohugmysister.“Hi.”
“Hey.”Taliawasdressedinbluescrubs,herpregnantbellyroundandadorable.We’deachpulledourdarkhairintoaponytailtoday,andpeoplealwayssaidthatwewereeasiertotellapartwhenourhairwasup.
“Wantsomelunch?Iwasjustgoingtomakemyselfagrilledcheese.”
“Sure.”
Iwasgratefulforthetaskofcooking.ItmeantIdidn’thavetomakeeyecontact.MysisterwouldseetooquicklythatIwasbarelyholdingittogether.
“Feelingbetter?”sheasked.
“Much.”Islicedtwopiecesofcheese.
“Whatwaswrong?”
“Idon’tknow.Ijustfeltsick.”
“Didyouhaveafever?”
“Um,no?”
“Whatwereyoursymptoms?”Thiswastheproblemwithhavingadoctorinthefamily.Doctorsaskedquestions,andgooddoctors,likeTalia,couldtellthedifferencebetweenafakeillnessandanactualillness.
“Iwaskindofsore.Likebodyaches?IthinkIoverdiditonthehiking.”
Herstareburnedintomyprofile.Ididn’tneedtolookathertoknowhereyeswerenarrowed.Thatshecouldhearthelieinmyvoice.
“Lyla.”
“Yeah?”Iwalkedtotheshelfandtookdownaloafofbread.
“Vanceisgone,isn’the?”
Shit.Thatdidn’ttakeherlongtofigureout,didit?Myshouldersslumped.ThenInodded,keepingmybacktomysister.IfIsaidthewordsaloud,ifIlookedather,I’dcry.
Andbysomemiracle,Ihadn’tcried.Notyet.
NotfromthetimeI’dleftVanceinmydriveway.Notthroughmyentiremorningroutine.I’dfoughtthetearslikeawarrior.ButthiswasabattleI’dlose.Itwasn’tamatterofif,butwhen.Thetearswouldcomeinadevastatingwave.
Justnotyet.
They’dhavetowait.Ihadtogetthroughmyworkdayfirst.Ihadtomakegrilledcheesesandwiches.
“Areyouallright?”Taliaasked.
No.Notevenalittlebit.
Ishrugged,returningtothetable.Ifoundaserratedknifeandbeganslicingtheloaf.“Ialwaysknewthiswouldhappen.”
“Didhesayanythingaboutcomingback?Maybestaying?”
Ilovedmysister,butGod,didwehavetotalkaboutthisrightnow?Ishookmyhead,thefireinmythroatblazinghotterthanever.“It’snotlikethat.I’mnot…”
“Notwhat?”Taliaputherhandovermine,forcingmetostopcutting.
“I’mnottherightshadeofblue.”
Deepdown,IknewthatthereasonVancelefthadnothingtodowithme.Butthedoubtswerecreepingin,cripplingandheartbreaking.Wouldhehavestayedforanotherwoman?
Talia’seyebrowsknittedtogether.“Huh?”
“Nevermind.”Islidmyhandfreeofhersandsettheknifedown,movingtoturnonthecooktop.
“Youdon’twanttotalkaboutthisrightnow,doyou?”
Ishookmyhead.
“Okay.”Shewenttomyoffice,wheelingoutmydeskchair.Thenmybeautiful,happysisterspentthenextthirtyminutestalkingtomeaboutbabynameswhilesheatehersandwichbeforegoingbacktowork.
Asthedayworeon,theexhaustionfromasleeplessnightbegantotakeitstoll.Mybonesfelttooheavy.Mymusclesweak.Butsomehow,Ipersevered,andwhenIfinallyturnedthelockonthefrontdoorandflippedthesigntoclosed,Ibreathedasigh.
Ireachedforthelightswitch,dousingtheshopinshadows.Thestreetlampoutsidecastitswhitehuethroughthefrontwindows.Normally,thatlightwouldscatter,barelybrighteningthefrontthirdoftheshop.Tonight,itwaslikeaspotlightshonedirectlyontheemptytableandchairbythewindow.
Vance’schair.
Asobescapedmythroat.Igaveintotheburninmythroat.Andtearsbeganstreamingdownmyface.
Thewarwasover.SoIstoppedfighting.
Instead,Iburiedmyfaceinmyhandsandcriedforthemanwho’dchangedmylife.ThemanIloved.
Themanwho’dwalkedaway.CHAPTERTWENTY-EIGHTVANCE
Thedrivefromthestationtomyhousewaselevenminutes.
Forthepastelevenminutes,I’dfeltlikeI’dforgottensomethinginthecaptain’soffice.
Notjustsomething.
Mybadge.
Effectivetoday,IwasnolongeradeputywiththeKootenaiCountySheriff’sOffice.AndeventhoughI’dplannedforthis,elevenminuteshadn’tbeenlongenoughforthisnewrealitytosinkin.
Iwasn’tacop,notanymore.
TherewasaduffelbaginthebackseatofmytruckfullofeverythingI’dhadstuffedinmylockeratwork.EventhoughChristmaswasstillafewweeksaway,Alec’swifehadmademeatinofholidaycookies.Theywereinthepassengerseat.
Ihauledeverythingoutofthetruckbutleftitonashelfinthegarage,nothavingtheenergytodealwithitrightnow,thenheadedinsidethehouse.
ThemomentIwalkedthroughthedoortothelaundryroom,Veracamerushingaroundthecorner.Hersock-coveredfeetslidlikeiceskatesacrossthehardwoodfloor.“So?How’ditgo?Didyouquit?”
“Itwent.Andyes,Iquit.”Isighed,settingmykeysontopofthedryer.
ThereusedtobeahookbesidethedoorwhereI’dhangmykeys.Butwhenwe’darrivedinIdahosixweeksago,thehookhadbeenmissingalongwithalonglistofotherthingsthatTiffhadtakenwhenshe’dmovedout.
Inthepastsixweeks,Ihadn’tbotheredtofindanewhook.Ornewnightstandsformybedroom.Oracoffeetableinthelivingroom.
Thefurniturehadbeenmine,thoughapparentlyTiffhadn’tcared.Veradidn’tseemtomindthattherewereholeswherepiecesoffurnitureshouldbe.AndIdidn’tgiveashitabout,well…alot.AtleastnotmuchhereinIdaho.
Forthepastmonthandahalf,ithadbecomeglaringlyobviousthatI’dleftfar,fartoomuchofmyselfinMontana.
WithLyla.
“Areyouokay?”Veraasked.
“Allgood,”Ilied.“Yougotahaircut.”
Itwasstilllong,theorange-redstrandsbrushingagainstherheart,butitwassixinchesshorterthanithadbeenwhenI’dleftthismorning.
“Itwasstillscraggly.”Shepluckedatalock.“Itneededtogoshorter.”
Whichwasexactlywhatthestylisthadtoldherthefirsttimewe’dgonetothesalon—ithadtakenVeranearlyamonthbeforeshe’dleavethehousewithoutme,soI’dtakenhertothatfirsthaircut.Anddespitethestylist’sadvice,Verahadn’twantedtolosetoomuchlength.
Shelikedherlonghair.AndIthinkshe’dfearedthatifthereweretoomanychanges,she’dloseherself.She’dlosethegirlwho’dspentthoseyearsinthewildernesswithherfather.
Iwasproudofherforgoingtheretoday.Formakinganotherchange.
“Itlooksreallygreat.”
“Thanks.”Sheshrugged.“Ilikeit.”
“Thenthat’sallthatmatters.”Itoedoffmyboots,thenItookoffmywintercoat,gladIhadnowhereelsetogotoday,becausetheroadsaroundtownwereslickandcoveredinsnow.“Maybeit’stimeIgotanotherhaircuttoo.”
ThedayI’dtakenVera,I’dhadminetrimmedtoo,butthathadbeenweeksagoanditwasgettinglongagain.WithoutLylaaroundtorunherfingersthroughit,theredidn’tseemlikemuchpointinlettingitgrow.
“Wecouldwalktothesalontomorrow,”Verasaid.
“Oryoucouldpracticedriving.”
Sheshookherhead.
Verawasn’treadytodriveagain,notyet.Withoutanypracticeinthepastfouryears,shehadalotofrelearningtodo.Fornow,whereversheneededtogo,shewalked.Evenso,sherarelyleftthehouse.
“Onmywalkback,Ipickedupstuffatthestoretomakesoup.It’sreadyandIsetthetable.Areyouhungry?”
No.Mystomachhadbeeninaknotalldayandwouldneedawhiletounravel.Theideaoffoodonlymadethecrampworse.
Butaweekago,VerahaddeclaredthatshewantedtocontributemorearoundthehouseandthatIneededtolethercontributemorearoundthehouse.ApparentlyI’dbeenbabyingher.Soinanefforttobackoff,I’dputherinchargeofdinnereverynight.
Ifshe’dmadesoup,thenitwastimetoeatsoup.
“Souponacolddaysoundsgreat.”
“Okay.”Shestoodalittletaller.Atinysmilegracedhermouthbeforeshewhirledaroundandslid-shuffledacrossthefloortowardthekitchen.
ThatsmallsmilewasaboutasmuchjoyasVerashowedthesedays.Itwashardtorememberwhatshelookedlikewhenshewasactuallyhappy.Therewasnolaughterinher.Noblinding,toothysmiles.
ImissedthatVera.AndIwasn’tsurehowtogetherback.
SoI’dfocusedonthepracticalitiesinstead.
Turnsout…bringingakidbacktolifewasaclusterfuckofpaperworkandskepticism.
Mostpeople,likeAlec,hadneededanin-personvisittobelieveourstorythatVerahadshownuponmydoorstepsixweeksago.
AfterI’dcalledtotellhim,lettinghimbethedryrunbeforemymeetingwiththecaptain,AlechadrushedoverandstaredatVera,speechless,foralmostthirtyminutes.
Otherpeople,likemycaptain,hadrequiredDNAteststoproveVerawasinfactVera.
Wasitstrangenottofeeltheweightofmybadgeonmybelt?Yep.Butfuck,IwasgladI’dneverhavetoseethatasshole’sfaceagain.
Sortingthroughthemesshadbeenanightmare,butwe’dmadeitthrough.TheworldnowknewthatVeraGallagherwasalive—thelocalpapershadplasteredherphotoonthefrontpageforweeks.Afewnationalnewssourceshadpickedupthestorytoo.
Butthestorywe’dspuninQuincywithLyla’shelphadheldup.Asexpected,Verastillrefusedtotalkaboutthatnightwithhermother.Sincetherewasn’tadamnthingpeoplecoulddotomakehertalk,they’dhadtoaccepttherestofthedetails.
CormachadtakenVera.They’dbeenlivingoffthegridforfouryears.Andfinally,she’dleft.She’dcomehometoafamilyfriend.UncleVance.
TheFBIhadrushedtoIdahoinhopesoffindingCormac,butalsoasexpected,theyhadn’tfoundhim.Andjustlikebefore,they’dmoveontoothercases.NowthatIwasn’tsearchingforCormac,theworldwouldlikelyforgetheevenexisted.
Themediaattentionhaddwindled,thoughnotfastenoughformyliking.Notonlyhadtheydrudgedupthedetailsfromthatnightyearsago,butsinceIwaslinkedtoCormac,thegasstationshootinghadmadearesurgencetoo.
Thankfully,thatinvestigationwasover.
I’dbeenclearedofanywrongdoing,thankfuck.Butthedamagehadalreadybeendone.Thecaptainwantedmetokeepalowprofile,sohe’dputmeondeskwork.Therumorsaboutthefamilysuingthedepartmenthadfaded—probablybecausethey’drealizedtheirchancesofwinningwereslimtonone.Still,hehadn’twantedtotakeanychances.Hadn’twantedtobroadcastmyfacetothepublic.
Apparently,theattentionIwasgettingwithVerawasalreadytoomuch.
Soforthepastsixweeks,I’dbeendoingpaperwork.Alotoffuckingpaperwork.Ithadjustaboutsentmeovertheedge.ButI’dstuckitout.ForVera.
I’dwantedtobeatthestation,inthedepartmentwithafewresourcesatmydisposal,untilshewasafull-fledgedmemberofsociety.
Shehadhersocialsecuritycardreinstated.Shehadadriver’slicense.Shehadacheckingaccountandacreditcard.
AndsincetheFBIseemedtohaverunoutofquestionsforher,well…Iwasthinkingwewereoutofthewoods.Sotoday,I’dcalleditquits.
“Doyouwantmilkorwater?”Veraaskedfromthekitchen.
“Water,please,”Ianswered,walkingthroughthehouseasashiverrolledovermyshoulders.“Isitchillyinhere?”
“Notreally.”
“Huh.”Maybeitwasjustthishouse.
Haditalwaysbeenthiscoldandsterile?Yes.EvenwhenTiffhadlivedhereandIhadn’tbeenmissingfurniture,thisplacehadn’thadmuchofapersonality.Thewallswereadullgraythatseemedtosuckupthelight.Mylackofhomedécorskillsmeanttherewasnoartworktobringcolorintothespace.Notosspillowsorthrowblanketsorhouseplants.
Itwasnothinglikethewarm,invitingfarmhouseontheoutskirtsofQuincy,Montana.
Goddamnit,ImissedLyla.
Ishouldhavemadeherpromises,evenwhenshe’daskedmenotto.
AllIwantedwastopickupthephoneandhearhervoice.Everyday,IfoughttheurgetodrivetoMontanaforaglimpseofherbeautifulface.Itkilledmetothinkofhermovingon.
ButIwouldn’ttellherIwascomingback,notuntilIknewitwastrue.Iwouldn’tcallher,dragheralong,andmakepromisesthatImightnotmanagetokeep.
Wassheokay?DidshemissmeafractionofhowmuchImissedher?
“Bigspoonorlittlespoon?”Veraasked.
“Big.I’llgetnapkins.”
Withtheminhand,Iwenttothetableandtookmyusualseat.
Veracarriedoverabowlofsoupmadewithgoldenbroth,carrots,noodlesandchicken.
“Looksdelicious.”
“I’venevermadechickennoodlesoupbefore.”
Istirreditforaminute,lettingitcool,thentookthatfirst,steamingbite.Saltfilledmymouth.Itwaslikeswallowingagulpofoceanwater,butIfoughtagrimaceandchokeditdown.“Yum.”
Veratookherownbite.Andimmediatelyspititbackintothebowl.“OhmyGod.It’sawful.”
“It’snot.”Itookanotherbite.Fuck,itwasawful.
“Itasteditanditwasn’tsaltyenough,soIaddedsomebut…”Shesetherspoonasideasthecornersofhermouthturneddown.“Sorry.”
“Don’tapologize.You’reagoodcook.Onesaltysoupisn’ttheendoftheworld.”
Herchinbegantotremble.
“Vera.”Icoveredherhandwithmineastearsfilledhereyes.“It’sjustsoup.”
“It’snotevenaboutthesoup.”Shesniffled,wipingatherlashes.“ThecashieratthestoretodayaskedmeifIwasthatgirlfromthepaper.”
Shit.“Whathappened?”
“Iliedandtoldherno.”
Becauseotherwise,Verawouldgetbombardedwithquestions.Peoplehadnoqualmsaboutsteppingpastboundariesifitmeantsatisfyingtheircuriosity.Peopleweretheworst.
“I’mtiredoflying,UncleVance.I’mtiredofbeingrecognizedeverywhereIgo.”Shecaughtanothertear.“AndImissmydad.”
“Iknowyoudo,kiddo.”
“Ithought…Ithoughtitwouldfeeldifferentbeinghere.Ithoughtitwouldfeelmorelikehome.Ithought…”Veratrailedoffanddroppedhergazetothesaltysoup.
“Thoughtwhat?”
“ThoughtIwouldfeelthem.”
HadleyandElsie.
Maybe,ifwecouldhavevisitedthespotwhereI’dscatteredtheirashes,Verawouldhavefeltthatconnection.Butthesnowwasheretostay.Ifshewantedtovisit,itwouldhavetobethisspring.
“Whatarewedoinghere?”Shesniffled,dryingbotheyes.“YoumissLyla.”
Imissedhersomuchitwashardtobreathe.
IfVerawantedtogobacktoQuincy,I’dstartpackingtonight.ButIalsoneededhertosaythewords.Tochoosethatpathforherself.
TheonlyreasonIwasinIdahowasforVera.Togiveherwhateverlifeshewanted.ButifwewentbacktoMontana,thatwasit.Therewasn’tafuckingchanceI’dleaveLylaagain.
“Whatareyousaying,Vera?”
“I’msaying…Ithinkwemadeamistake.IthinkweshouldgobacktoMontana.”CHAPTERTWENTY-NINELYLA
Crystalwalkedintothekitchenwithhermouthflappingopen.“Youpaintedsnowflakesonthewindows.”
“Well,yeah.Idoeveryyear.”
“ButusuallyafterHalloween.Whenyoudidn’tdothembyThanksgiving,Ifiguredyouwouldn’tdothematall.”
Ishrugged.“Justtookmealittlelongertogetintheholidayspirit.”
Itwasalie.Theonlyspiritcurrentlyoccupyingmybodywasmisery.
ButifI’dperfectedanythinginthepastsixweeks,itwasfakinghappy.Fakingnormal.
Everyyear,Ihand-paintedsnowflakesonthewindowsofEdenCoffeesothatwhentouristsandlocalscameinforacappuccinoorpastry,they’dbegreetedwithcharming,winterdécor.Solastnight,afterclosingdowntheshop,I’dspentfivehoursadorningtheglasswithsnowflakesofvariousshapesandsizes.
IthadbeenwellaftermidnightwhenI’dmadeithomeandcrashed.ThenI’drousedatfour,returningtotheshoptospendanotherdayfakingit.
“You’renotwearinglipsticktoday,”Isaid,takinginthesoftpinkofhermouth.
Sheshrugged.“Icouldn’tpickacolor.”
“Well,lipstickornot,youlookpretty.”Ismiled.ItwasSundayandherdayoff.Whyhadshecomeintotheshop?“Whatareyouuptotoday?”
“IcamedowntowntoshopforChristmaspresents.Butit’sbusy,soIwantedtopopinandmakesureyoudidn’tneedhelp.”
“Thanksforchecking,butI’llbeokay.”
IpickedupthetrayofmuffinsI’dpulledfromtheovenearlierandhadsetouttocool.WithCrystaltrailingbehindme,Icarriedthemtothecounter,scanningtheroomtomakesurenoonenewhadwanderedinwhileI’dbeenintheback.
Nearlyeverytablewasfull.Everytablebuttheoneagainstthewindow.
Vance’stable.
Andthereasonitwasn’tfullwasbecauseI’dtakenawayhischair.Bothchairs,actually.Diditlookridiculoustohaveanemptytableinthecorner?Yes.ButIcouldn’tbeartoseeanotherpersoninthatspot.Notyet.
TheminuteIappearedwithfreshmuffins,threepeoplecametothecounter,eachbuyingonetotaketotheirseats.AmanI’dneverseenbeforeaskedforarefillonhiscoffee.
Thistimeofyear,there’dbeaplethoraofunfamiliarfacesinQuincy.TheweekendsfromnowuntilNewYear’swouldbeslammedattheshop.Touristswouldflocktoourlittletowntoshoporenjoyawintergetawayinthecharmingatmosphere.
ThestreetlampsalongMainwereallstrungwithwhitetwinklelights.Minewasn’ttheonlyshopwindowdecoratedfortheseason.AndEloisetoldmeyesterdaythatthelastopenroomatthehotelhadjustbeenbooked.TherewerenovacanciesuntilJanuary.
“SoIhadthisidea.”Crystalproppedherhipagainstthecounteroncethecustomershadallbeenserved.“Let’sjoinadatingapp.”
Thatwasheridea?Hardpass.“Beenthere,donethat.Idon’tthinkI’mthedating-apptype.”
Monthsago,shemighthaveconvincedmetotryagain.Butnow?
Everythingwasdifferent.
Inthepastsixweeks,Ihadn’theardfromVance.Notaword.NotthatI’dexpectedacallortext.NotwhenI’dbeentheonetoinsisthemakenopromises.
Buthehadn’ttrulydisappearedeither.
I’dreadthenewsarticlesaboutVera.Abouthim.Andbeyondthat,hewashere.Hewasinthisshop,aghostatthetablewithnochairs.Aphantomroamingthehallsofmyhouse,remindingmeeverymorningandnightthatIwasalone.
Imissedhimwitheverybeatofmylonely,lonelyheart.
Ithadbeensixweeks.Hewasn’tcomingback,washe?
No.Hewasn’tcomingback.
“WhatifIsetuptheprofileforyou?”Crystalasked.“Thenallyou’dhavetodowasswipethroughanymatches.”
“IsthereevenadatingpoolinQuincy?”
“EmilyNelsenwasinyesterday,andshetoldmethatshe’sbeenseeingaguyinMissoula.Theymetonanapp.”
“Crystal,Idon’t—”
“Justthinkaboutit.”SheheldupahandbeforeIcouldprotest.“That’sallI’masking.”
Isighed.“Okay.I’llthinkaboutit.”
DidIwanttojoinadatingapp?Hellno.There.Thoughtaboutit.
“Thankyou.”Shesmiledastheshop’sfrontdooropenedandthebelljingled.
Mateostrodeinside,hisheadcoveredinablackbaseballcapthatseemedtoaccentuatethesharpcornersofhisstubbledjaw.Gonewasmylankyyoungerbrother.He’dgrownintoastrong,handsomeman,theresemblancetoGriffandKnoxalmostuncanny.
Crystal’scheekspinked,likeshe’dturnedshywithoutaboldlipcolor.IfMateoshowedevenahintofinterest,thisdating-appideaofherswouldgosailingoutmysnowflake-adornedwindows.
Buthislovelifeconsistedoftheoccasionalflingwithatouristhe’dpickupatabar.Notonceinthetimehe’dbeenbackfromAlaskahadhetakenawomanoutonadate.Hewasasallergictorelationshipsashewasshellfish.
“Hey,”hesaid,placinghishandsonthecounter.
“Hi.”Istoodonmytoesashebenttokissmycheek.
“Crystal.”Hedippedhischin,andherfaceturnedfrompinktobrightred.
“Hey,Mateo.”Shelookedeverywherebutathisface,herhandsfidgeting.Thenshepushedoffthecounteranddidacurtseywithafingerwave.“I’llseeyoulater,Lyla.”
“Bye.”
Shescurriedaroundthecounter,thenrushedforthedoor.
“Didshejustcurtsey?”Mateoasked.
Igiggled.“Ithinkshe’sgotalittlecrushonyou.”
“Ithoughtshewasintowomen.”
“People.”
“Ah.”Henodded.“Ifshehasacrushonme,isitgoingtogetawkward?”
“Idoubtit.It’sateensy,tinycrush.Mostly,Ithinkshejustfindsyouprettytolookat.”
“Obviously.”Hesmirked.
IflickedthetipofhisnoselikeIusedtodowhenwewerekids.“What’sup?”
“Nothingmuch.CametotowntopickupafewthingsGriffneedsontheranch.ThoughtI’dswingbyandseeifyouneededanything.”
Mateowasstillfocusedonhelpingeveryoneout.Griffinontheranch.Eloiseatthehotel.TaliaandFosterhadjustbuiltahouseontheranch,andsinceshewasdueanydaynow,Mateohadspentweekshelpingthempackandmove.
Hewasagooduncle,alwaysvisitinghisniecesandnephews.Justlastnighthe’dbabysattheboyssoKnoxandMemphiscouldgoonadate.AndwheneverIneededhelp,Mattywasonlyaphonecallaway.
“I’mgood.Areyou?”
Heliftedashoulder.“Yeah.”
“CanIaskyousomething?”Ijerkedmychinforhimtocomearoundthecounter.
MateotookthespotwhereCrystalhadbeenleaning.“Shoot.”
“Why’dyouleaveAlaska?”
I’dwantedtoaskhimthatquestionforweeks,butthere’dneverseemedagoodtime.We’dalwaysbeenbusyorworking.ButI’drealizedlastnightasIpaintedsnowflakesdayslate,Icouldlosemychanceentirely.
Ifthepastsixweekshadtaughtmeanything,itwasthateverythingcouldchangeinablink.
“Imissedhome,”hesaid.
WhileIdidn’tdoubtthatanswerwastrue,itfelt…superficial.“Mateo.”
“Lyla.”
“I’mworriedaboutyou.”
“That’smyline.”
Igavehimasoftsmile.“Soitis.”
Mateohadmadethatdeclarationcountlesstimes.Sohadeveryothermemberofmyfamily.
AsmuchasItriedtopretendIwashappy,everyoneknewthatwhenVancehadleftQuincy,he’dtakenapieceofmewithhim.
“Iwassleepingwiththiswoman.”Mateo’sstatementsurprisedme.Maybehewassickofpretendingtoo.“Itwassupposedtobecasual.”
“Shecaughtfeelings.”
“Icaughtfeelings.”
“Oh.”
Heshrugged.“That’snotwhatshewanted,sowebrokeitoff.Kindoffuckedwithmethough.Ilovedflyingeveryday.IlovedAlaskaandmadesomedecentfriends.But…”
“Itwasn’thome.”
“Itwasn’tMontana.”
“Fortherecord,I’mgladyou’rehere.”
“Metoo.”
“Onemorequestion.”Iheldupafinger,earningmeateasingeyeroll.“Ifyouloveflyingeveryday,why’dyoustop?”
Hisbluegaze,thesamecolorasmine,shiftedovermyshouldertoablankspotonthewall.“Iguess…IwenttoAlaska,hopingI’dfindwhatIneeded.Didn’tquiteworkoutthatway.”
Sohe’dcomehome,andinsteadofexploringhisownpassions,chasinghisowndreams,he’dhelpedhissiblingswiththeirsbecauseitwaseasier.Familiar.
Itrequiredthathemakenodecisionsabouthisownfuture.Takenorisks.Itwasatemporarysolution,butsoonerratherthanlater,IhopedMateowouldfindhisowndirection.Hisownpurpose.
“Okay,enoughwiththeheavy.”Iwavedoffthatsubject,sensinghewasreadyforachangetoo.“Wantsomethingtoeat?Ijustmademuffins.”
“Sure.”
WespentthenexthourtalkingaboutnothingwhileIattendedtomycustomers.Afterheleftfortheranch,Imadeafreshpotofcoffee,helpingmyselftoasteamingmugtofighttheyawningthatwouldn’tstop.
WithoutVanceinmybed,sleepseemedelusive.Still,Ikeptmysmilefirmlyfixedinplaceasthehourspassedonanotherday.
Thesunsetsoearlythistimeofyearthatitwasdarkevenbeforethedinnerrush.Whilethedayswerehecticandbusy,peopletendedtoretreattothewarmthandsafetyoftheirhomesoncenightfell.
LeavingmealoneinacoffeeshopforonemorehouruntilIcouldgohome.
Andbealonetheretoo.
Theshopwasempty,thetablesclean,soIwenttothekitchenandmademyselfapeanutbutter,bananaandhoneysandwich.WhileIate,Ipulledoutmyphonefrommypocket.
I’dmissedsixtexts.ThreefromEloise.OnefromTalia.ThelastfromMom.
NothingfromVance.
Amonthago,I’dgonethroughaperiodwhereI’dbeensoangryathim.I’dbeenfuriousthathecouldjustgobacktohislife.Thathecouldforgetaboutmesoeasily.Butthatangerhadbeenshort-lived.
I’dneverbeenthetypewhocouldstaymadatsomeoneIloved.
And,oh,howIlovedVanceSutter.
Evenifwelivedourlivesapart.EvenifIneversawhisfaceagain.IwouldloveVancefortherestofmylife.
Thedoor’sbelljingled,soIshovedthelastbiteofsandwichinmymouth.ThenIgulpedadrinkofwaterbeforewipingmylipsdryandhurryingtothecounter.
Threestepsdownthehallway,Ifroze.
Amanstoodjustinsidethedoorway,hisbackturnedtowardme.Hisgazewasaimedatthetableagainstthewindows.
Myhandpressedagainstmyheart.
I’dknowthosebroadshouldersandthatdark,disheveledhairanywhere.
Iclosedmyeyes,surehe’dbegonewhentheyopened.
Hewasn’t.
Vancestoodmotionless,staringattheplacewherehischairhadbeen.
Iriskedanotherstepbutstoppedagain.IfIgottooclose,wouldhedisappearinapuffofsmoke?
Heturned,tookastepofhisown,thentwistedtolookatthetableagain.Hisjawticked.Whenhefacedforward,itwaswithascowl.Hisgazesweptacrosstheemptycounter.Thenitdarteddownthehallway,andwhenhespottedme,hestopped.Hisexpressionblanked.
MyheartclimbedintomythroatasIungluedmyfeetandwalkedout,stoppingwhenIwasthreefeetaway.
God,helookedgood.Likeadream.WasIdreaming?
Vance’sgray-blueeyestracedalineupanddownmybody,headtotoe.
IwasinapairofjeansandacharcoalHenley.HisHenley.Ithadgottenmixedinwithmylaundry,andwhenhe’dpacked,he’dleftitbehind.EventhoughIhadtorollupthesleevesandtuckitinsoitdidn’tlooklikeadress,Iworeitatleasttwiceaweek.
“Hi.”Hisvoicewasraspy,likehisthroathadgonedry.
“Hi.”
Vance’sfrowndeepenedandheplantedhishandsonhiships.“Wherethehellismychair,Blue?”
Tearsflooded.Mykneeswobbled.Alaughescaped,ormaybeitwasasob.
Whateverthenoise,itrelaxedhisframe.Thenhesurged,closingthegapbetweenus,andhauledmeintohisarms.
Iburiedmyfaceinhischestandinhaled.Soapandspiceandearthandwind.Heaven.“Isthisreal?Areyouhere?”
“I’mhere.”Hebreathedinmyhair.“Fuck,butImissedyou.”
“Youdid?”
“Everydamnday.”
Isqueezedmyeyesclosed,ballinghiscoatinmyfiststokeephimfrommoving.“Iputyourchairaway.Icouldn’tlookatitemptyeveryday.Ican’tlookatitemptyeveryday.”
Ifhewasjustgoingtoleaveagain,heneededtogo.Now.WhileIcouldstillstandonmyown.
Heeasedmebacktoframemyfaceinhislargehands,histhumbsstrokingmycheeks.“Itwon’tbeempty.Neveragain.That’sapromise,Lyla.”
Apromisehe’dkeep.“Ilikepromises.”
Thecornerofhismouthturnedup.Thenheslammedhismouthonmine.Histonguestrokedmybottomlip,tenderandslow,coaxingmymouthopen.Whenheslidinside,itwasslow.Torturous.Heexploredmymouthlikethiswasthefirstkiss.
Inaway,maybeitwas.
Imeltedagainsthim,theacheinmychestabatingwitheverysoftkissuntilhebrokeaway,hisgazecollidingwithmine.
“Iloveyou,Lyla.”Thosegray-blueeyeswereasbrightasstars.ItwasacolorI’dseeninthembefore.Ijusthadn’tnamedityet.Love.
“Iloveyoutoo.”
“Iloveyousofuckingmuch.”Hisholdonmetightened.“Icouldn’tbreathewhenwewereapart.”
“Don’teverleavemeagain.”
“Notachance.”Agrowlescapedhisthroatashismouthcrushedmineoncemore,kissingmeuntilIwasbreathless.Thenweclungtoeachother,hisarmsbandedaroundmyback.Hisfaceburiedinmyhair.
Isnakedmyarmsaroundhiswaist,pressingmycheektohisshoulderasImoldedaroundhishard,broadframe.
Westoodlockedtogetheruntilsomethingvibratedbetweenus.Vance’spocket.Heshifted,lettingmegojustenoughtodigouthisphone.
“It’sVera,”hesaid.
“Whereisshe?”
“Atthehotel.Shejusttextedtosayshe’stiredfromthedriveandwilljustseeusinthemorning.”
ThelastreservationatTheEloise.Thatwashim.
Iclosedmyeyes,leaningagainsthisheart,listeningtoitsbeatandfeelingtheheatfromhisbodyradiateintomine.
WashereallydonewithIdaho?Whatabouthisjob?Whathadhappenedwiththeinvestigationintotheshooting?
There’dbetimeforquestions.There’dbetimetotalkaboutthefuture.Butnotyet.Tonight,Ijustwantedtotakehimhome.
“I’mtheonlyoneheretonightandstillneedtocloseup.”
“I’llwaituntilyou’redone.”Hetookmyfaceinhishandsoncemore,hisgazefullofloveandsomethingnew.
Peace.Hewasatpeace.Anditwasbreathtaking.
“I’llgetyourchair.”EPILOGUELYLA
Threemonthslater…
Fourconversationsfloatedaroundmyparents’kitchen.
DadwastellingGriffandKnoxabouttheflattirehe’dgottenonWednesday.
TaliawaslamentingtoMomandWinnabouttheupcomingendofhermaternityleave.
FosterandJasperwerediscussingsomeUFCfight.
Memphis,EloiseandVerawerehuddledoveraphone,shoppingforHarrison’sfirstbirthdaypresents.
“We’regettingmarried.”
Allfourconversationscametoascreechinghalt.
Vanceshookhisheadandchuckled.“SomuchforkeepingittoourselvesuntilMateogothere.”
“He’slate.”Ishrugged.“That’snotmyproblem.Besides,someonewouldhavenoticedthering.”
AndIrefusedtotakeitoff.
Myfamily,momentarilystunned,gapedatus,theneveryoneseemedtomoveatonce.Therewerehugsandhandshakes.Momdabbedtearsfromthecornerofhereyes.Andwhentheoverlappingconversationsstartedagain,thistimethetopicwasourengagementandweddingplans.
Thenoiseintheroomspiked,excitementinfusingtheair.Thekids,sensingtheenergy,chasedinandoutofthekitchen,racingalonganinvisiblepaththatwoundaroundlegsandchairsandafewscatteredtoys,allwhiletheadultstalked.
Thesolitairediamondringonmyfingerstillfeltabitforeignagainstmyknuckle.Butsomeday,afterI’dwornitfordecades,IhopedthatwheneverIslippeditoff,I’dseeitsindentationinmyskin.
Vancehadtakenmeonahikethismorning.Theweatherhadwarmedoverthepasttwoweeks,enoughthatsomeofthesnowhadmeltedinthefoothills.ItwasonlyMarchandwe’dundoubtedlygetanotherstormortwo,buthe’dwantedtotakeadvantageofwinter’sreprieveandmydayoff.
Thetrailhe’dfoundhadtakenustoasecludedmeadowintheforest.Maybehe’dplannedthehike.Maybehe’dscopedouttheareainadvance.Maybehe’djustgottenluckytofindsuchapicturesqueclearinginthetrees.
Iwasn’tsureandwasn’tasking.
Theminutewe’dbrokenthroughthetreeline,Vancehaddroppedtoakneeandaskedmetobehiswife.
MycheeksflushedjustthinkingabouthowVancehadfuckedmeagainstthetrunkofanearbycottonwoodafterI’dsaidyes.Thenwe’dcelebratedagaininthebackofhistruck.Andagainwhenwe’dgottenhome.Twice.
Likehecouldreadmythoughts,Vance’sgazemetminefromacrosstheroom.
“Iloveyou,”Imouthed.
Hewinked.
“Where’sMateo?”Eloiseasked,poppingacarrotfromtheveggietrayintohermouth.
“Idon’tknow.”Momcheckedherphone.“Hesaidhewascoming.”
“Well,I’mgettinghungry,”Dadsaid.“I’llstartthegrill.Wecancookhisburgerwhenhegetshere.”
Alineofmen,eachcarryingacocktail,trailedfromthekitchentothedeck.Apparentlyittooksixmalestoturnononebarbeque.
“Sowheredoyouwantthewedding?”Momasked,takingtheburgerpattiesshe’dpreppedearlierfromthefridge.
“Iwasthinkingthebarn.Ifthat’sokaywithyouguys.”
“Ofcourse.”Sheclapped,giddywithexcitement.“Whatabouttheceremony?”
“Theweatherisalwaysarisk,butmaybewecouldhaveitoutside.”
“Wecouldsetuptentsjustincaseofrain,”Winnsaid.
“Oh,Isawthisamazingpicturetheotherdayofanaltar.”Memphisscrolledthroughtheplethoraofweddinginspirationpicturesshe’dsavedonherphoneasaneventplanner.Shefoundtherightoneandhelditoutforusalltolookat.“Isn’tthatprettywiththewoodarchesandflowers?Wecouldeasilyaddarooforcovering.”
“Iloveit.”Ismiled.“Willyoubemyweddingplanner?”
“Aww.”Shepressedahandtoherheart,thensweptmeintoahug.“I’dbehonored.”
“Howareyourclassesgoing,Vera?”Taliaasked.
Verahadbecomearegularatourfamilydinnersthesepastthreemonths.She’dactuallybecomearegularatMomandDad’s,period.
AfterVancehadcomebacktoQuincy,he’dtoldmeabouttheweekswe’dbeenapart.Howmiserablethey’dbeenforVera.
HisplaceinIdahohadsoldafewweeksago,alongwithmostofhisfurniture.We’dallgonebackforaweekendtopackhisremainingbelongingsandmovethemtomyplace.
TheplanhadbeenforVeratokeeplivingintheguestbedroomatourhouse.Butthenshe’ddeclaredshewantedherownplace.Shewantedtostartlivinglikeanormaltwenty-one-year-oldwoman.
Vancedidn’tthinkshewasquitereadytobeentirelyonherownagain.Maybehewasjustbeingprotective,butafterfouryearsofisolation,Iagreedthateasingherintothingswasprobablythebestbet.
SoI’dcalledmyparents.
Therewasaloftabovethebarn.Mateohadlivedthereforatimeaftercollege.ThenmyuncleBriggshadcalledithomewhenhisdementiahadbecomeworseandDadhadwantedhisbrothercloser.Afterthedementiahadbecometooadvanced,Briggshadgoneintoanursinghome.
Thelofthadbeenemptyeversince.
ItseemedliketheperfectplaceforVeratofindherfooting.
Myparentsadoredher.Theyinvitedheroverfordinneratleastthreetimesaweek.Dadhadtakenituponhimselftohelpherrefreshherdrivingskills.AndMomwasteachingherhowtocook.
Meanwhile,Verahadwantedtodivestraightintoafull-timejob,butinstead,we’dencouragedhertogetherGEDfirst.She’dacedhertestslastmonthandhadstartedtwoonlinecoursessince.
“Ireallylikethem,”Verasaid.“IstillhavenoideawhatIwanttodo,butforrightnow,Ilikehavingoptions.”
Shewasenrolledinanutritionclassandapsychologycourse.Twowildlydifferenttopicsbutbothseemedtopiqueherinterest.Formoney,she’dbeenworkingatthecoffeeshop.BetweenherandCrystal,IwasabletotakeFridaysandSaturdaysoff.
Iwasn’tsurehowlongI’dgettokeepherattheshop.MomandDadhadallbutadoptedVerainthepastthreemonths,soifthedaycamewhenshewantedtomoveoutforcollegeoracareer,they’dmissherterribly.
Butfornow,sheseemedcontent.Whenshewasn’tworking,shespentalotofherfreetimewithVance.Anddaybyday,hersweetsmileappearedmoreandmore.
WhileIwantedtogiveVanceandmyfamilyandmycoffeeshopcreditforhergrowinghappiness,Isuspectedapartofithadeverythingtodowiththehikesshetookintothewoods.
Shewassearchingforherfather.
NeitherVancenorIaskedifshe’dfoundhim.Westayedquiet,lettingherdowhateveritwassheneededtodo.
PoorDadthough.Thefirsttimeshe’dgoneonahikealone,Dadhadpanicked,worryingshe’dgetlostorhurt.Vancehadpromisedmyparentsthathe’dtalktoher.Andhe’dreassuredthemthatifanyonewassafeinthewilderness,itwasVeraGallagher.
Noonebeyondthethreeofusknewthatwe’dfoundVerawithCormac.Myparents,liketherestoftheworld,believedthatVerahadjustshownuponVance’sdoorstepinIdaho.
AndthoughI’dbracedforit—andsohadWinn—noonefromtheFBIhadbotheredtovisitQuincy.
Thedoortothedeckopenedandtheguysstreamedbackintothekitchen.Vancecametomyside,haulingmeclose.Hesmelledlikesoapandearthandwindand…mine.
“Zalinskicameintotherestaurantforlunchtoday.”KnoxpulledMemphisagainsthischest.“Hementionedretiringsoon.Ididn’trealizehewasconsideringit.”
“Newstome,”Winnsaid.
“Samehere.”Dadnodded.“ButIthinkit’stime.”
“Areyouinterestedinrunningforsheriff?”JasperaskedVance.
“Nah.Toomuchpolitics.”HegrinnedatWinn.“Besides,Ilikemynewboss.”
“Thanks.”Winnsmiledback.“Ifyouwanttorunforsheriff,youknowI’llsupportyou.Butselfishly,pleasedon’tleaveme.”
Vancechuckled.“I’mnotgoinganywhere.”
WinnhadtoldmenotlongagothatVancewaslikeabreathoffreshairatthestation.MostofthecopsthatworkedforherhadgrownupinoraroundQuincy.Vancebroughtadifferentperspective.Differentexperience.Sheappreciatedhissteadynature,histotalaversiontogossipordrama.Andsheknewhewasloyal.He’dhaveherback.
ThefrontdooropenedandbootstepscamethuddingdownthehallbeforeMateoappeared.
“Thereyou—”Mom’seyeswidened.“What’swrong?”
Thecheerfulmoodfromjustsecondsagovanishedaswealltookinhisashenface.
“I,um…”Heblinked,shakinghisheadlikeitwasinafog.“IhavetogotoAlaska.Tonight.”
“Tonight?”Dadasked.“Why?What’sgoingon?”
Mateoswallowedhard.“Ithink…IthinkIhaveadaughter?”
TheroomeruptedinquestionsthatMateodidn’tanswer.
Hewasalreadyoutthedoor.
***
“Youokay?”Vanceaskedaswedrovehomefromtheranch.
“Yeah.”Isighed.“Worried.”
DinnerhadtakenanentirelydifferentturnafterMateo’sannouncement.Momhadspenttherestofthenighttryingtocallhim—hehadn’tanswered.AndI’dkeptmymouthshutaseveryoneelsehadspeculatedaboutthepossibilityofMateobeingafather.
Nooneelseseemedtoknowaboutthewomanhe’dtoldmeaboutmonthsago.Thewomanfromhisnot-so-casualfling.SoIjustassumedhehadn’twantedanyonetoknow.I’dlethimexplaintoourparentsandsiblings.
ButIwasdefinitelytellingmyfiancé.
“Awhileago,Mateotoldmethathe’dbeenseeingthiswomaninAlaska.Hehadhopeditwouldgosomewherebutshewasn’tinterested.Doyouthinkthat’sthemother?Ofthisbaby?”Iasked.Vancewouldn’tknowtheanswer,butIcouldn’thelpthinkingoutloud.
“Idon’tknow,Blue.”Hestretchedanarmacrossthecab,takingmyhandandbringingittohislap.
“Ugh.Ihatenotknowingwhat’shappening.”
“He’llfigureitout.Givehimtime.”Hebroughtmyknucklestohislips.“Yourdadsaidhewascoolwithushavingtheweddingreceptioninthebarn.”
Vancealwaysknewwhenitwastimetochangethesubject.Andhewasright.AllwecoulddowasgiveMateotime.Whenheknewwhatwashappening,he’dtellus.
“Iwantabigwedding,”Isaid,goingalongwiththenewtopic.“Thewhitedress.Thecake.Theparty.IwantaLyla-and-Vanceday.”Thatwastheweddingofmydreams.
“ALyla-and-Vanceday,”hemurmured,likehewastastingtheideatoseeifitwassweet.
“Ifyou’dratherhavesomethingsmall—”
“Iloveyou,Lyla.Ifyouwantabigwedding,thenwe’llhaveabigwedding.”
“Iloveyoutoo.”
“CouldItossoutoneidea?”
“Ofcourse.”
Heslowedthetruck,easingtothesideoftheroad.Buttherewasnothingtosee,justdarknessandourheadlightsonthepavementahead.
Vanceunbuckledhisseatbelt,thenbentovertheconsole,crookinghisfingeruntilIwascloseenoughtokiss.Itwasslowandlazy,theswirlofhistongueagainstminecausingalowachetobloominmycenter.
Whenhebrokeaway,Iunbuckledmyownseatbelt,readytoscrambleintothebackseatandhavearepeatofourrompearlier.Meridinghim,rockingthetruckuntilwebothcriedoutinecstasy.
ButbeforeIcouldmove,Vanceheldupafinger.“Aboutthiswedding.”
“Yes,”Idrawled.
“Youwantitthissummer.”
“Preferably.”
“Deal.”Hisgray-blueeyeslockedwithmineasasmirkspreadacrossthatsexymouth.“Butyouletmegetyoupregnantfirst.”
NotatallwhatI’dexpectedhimtosay.ItwasthebestideaI’dheardallnight.“You’reon,Sutter.”
***
WantmoreLylaandVance?DownloadtheBonusEpilogueHERE
***
TheEdensseriesconcludeswithSablePeakSABLEPEAK
VeraGallagherischasingconstant.Forfouryears,herlifewasanythingbutnormal.Andtheyearsbeforethatsherefusestoevenremember.Dwellingonthepastonlyhurts.Lifeisfragile,alessonhermothertaughtherwell.She’sdeterminednottowasteamomentofhernewfoundfreedom.
MaybesomewouldconsiderhercrushonMateoEdenwastedtime.Maybesomewouldcallherafoolforlovingamanwhohasn’toncedroppedacrumbofinterestherway.Still,toVera,it’sMateoornothing.
He’shandsome.Charming.Witty.AndheloveshisfamilythewayVeraloves—withherwholeheart.
Maybehe’llnevernoticeher.Maybeshe’stoodamaged,toobroken,tofindthatnormallifeshecraves.Maybehersecretswillalwayskeepthemapart.ButVerawilllovehimanyway.WhetherMateorealizesitornot.
***
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ThankyouforreadingCrimsonRiver!SpecialthankstoElizabethNover,myincredibleeditor.ToJulieDeatonandJudyZweifelforyourproofreadingexpertise.ThankyoutoSarahHansenforthestunningcover.ThankstoVickiforhelpingmekeepmylifeinorder.ToLoganforthelongphonecallsandcinematicmasterpiecesandgeneralawesomenessonadailybasis.ThankstoMonica,MarniandValentineforbeingthebestVegasPartyBuscompanionsIcouldwishfor.ToBill,WillandNash,thankyouforthejoyyoubringmeeachandeveryday.AndtoNina.IcouldfillahundredpageswithhowmuchIadoreandappreciateyou.Thanksforallyoudo.ABOUTTHEAUTHOR
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