I sit up too quickly, my head throbbing in protest. It feels like it’s going to collapse on itself, but pure instinct has me fighting against waves of nausea. With what remaining strength I have, I pull myself up. My right hand is near useless from the shoulder wound. I get to my feet by leveraging my weight onto my left side and hanging onto the fence post for dear life. My nerveless legs wobble like a fucking newborn deer, but I manage to stay upright.
My whole body aches and I’d rather be run over by a MACK truck than take another step, but I have to. All I can think of is Peyton’s face, bone white with fear, as she turned to flee.
With Alice, gun drawn and following close behind.
The inspiration of nightmares. My nightmares.
The very thing I’d fought so hard to keep from happening again, has happened.
I pull off my T-shirt one-handed, leaving me in a thin wifebeater soaked in my own blood, and rip a strip from the arm. I lose a lot of time wrapping the cloth around the still seeping wound, but I know if I don’t at least staunch the flow of blood, I’ll be useless. When it’s as bandaged as it’s going to be, I grit my teeth.
I inch my way up the path, supporting my weight against the handrail, thankful the shot had been a through and through, at least. Alice had been so blood-hungry, she hadn’t stopped to check and see if I was down for good. At least that’s one thing in my favor.
If Cal were really here, he’d tell me to man the fuck up. It’s just a scratch.
Because his voice still rings all too clearly in my ear, I white-knuckle it up the path, ignoring the pulsing burn emanating from my shoulder. My ears strain for signs of life, for anything. But it’s as quiet as a funeral. The kind of quiet that makes all my not-so-forgotten instincts light up like crazy.
My truck sits in the parking lot where I left it. Alice’s SUV—I hadn’t paid much attention when I pulled in—is parked next to it.
“Peyton!” Alice calls from somewhere in the forest beyond the parking lot. “You’re gonna break your pretty neck running around like this. Come back so we can talk about it.”
I dive into the brush, crashing through the scrub and trees like a belligerent bear. I don’t give a fuck. Let her come. Better me than her.
Better me than her.
Stumbling over a root, I go crashing to the ground, my wound screaming, and I nearly black out. When I get to my knees, it’s with a gun to my head.
“Well, if I can’t get her on my own, at least I can use you to find her. People will do anything for love.” She jams the gun against my back. “Get up.”
I do as she says, but I inch toward the tree line hoping Peyton is running deeper into the forest, away from Alice. I’d die happily if it meant she could live.
“You’ve got me, just let her go.”
Alice digs the gun into my ribs. “Not a chance.”
My heart clenches in my chest. “Please, Alice. I’ll do whatever you want.”
“What is it about these women that gets you men so wrapped around their fingers? Is it the sex? The drama?”
I lift a shoulder then instantly regret it. “You want me to explain it to you?”
“We’ve got all the time in the world. Tell me, Ford, I want to know. How is it she got you so under her spell? She reminds me so much of my sister. At first, I thought it was a cosmic joke. They’re both pretty, petite. Tell me, is it her looks?” Alice herself is tall, almost as tall as me. It’s no wonder Peyton thought she’d been a man on the boat. She could pass for a linebacker.
“It’s everything, Alice, though I doubt you’d understand. She’s my person. So, if you’re planning on pulling that trigger, you better pull it now before I send you to hell for what you’ve put her through.”
“Such a hero,” Alice snarls.
An engine revs, sounding like a plane coming to land it’s so loud. I throw myself down to the ground more out of muscle memory than intention. A streak passes in front of my vision, and at first I think I’m going to pass out—which would have really pissed me off—but it’s Peyton in my truck, gunning the engine and aiming straight for Alice.
In the split second before the truck crashes into her, Alice raises her gun, madness bright in her eyes, and fires three times in rapid succession.
I move too quickly then, knocking my shoulder against a tree in my haste and someone flicks off the lights.
“Ford? Ford, honey, it’s Peyton. Can you hear me?” I scowl at her nagging. This woman will be the death of me. “That’s it. Come back to me.”
I know I should open my eyes, but I’m terrified to find that her voice is a dream. When I do manage to sack up and look. I find Peyton leaning over me, her face wracked with worry.
“Hey there, sunshine,” I say hoarsely.
Laughter bubbles up and she sobs, falling over my chest. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Me, too. For a second there, I thought I wouldn’t be.” I manage to sit up. “Where’s Alice?”
Peyton’s eyes cloud over. “The ambulance took her. Hadley showed up about five minutes after…after. They weren’t sure if she was going to make it. Her husband was with him. He tried to climb in the ambulance and hurt her for killing Lola.”
I’d laugh, but it’d hurt too much. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. Go easy on me,” I say, as I gather her into my arms. “I won’t ever be able to get that image out of my head…” I’m horrified to find my voice cracking.
“Sure you will,” she says. Her words are so soft, I have to lean closer to hear. “That is, if you’ll have me. I’d like to spend the rest of my life making new memories to replace these.”
I shake my head and she frowns. “Why not?” she asks.
“I wouldn’t change the past few months with you for anything,” I tell her. “Though I wouldn’t have waited so long to get you back in bed.”
She laughs, then winces. “That’s what you’re thinking about?”
“No, what I’m thinking about is that I almost lost you when I’d just found you. That I came so close to never getting to tell you how I feel about you.”
“Ford,” she whispers.
I pull her down and taste the salt on her lips. “I love you, Peyton,” I say. I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life. She’s the rock that’s kept me from drifting away. The certainty in a life full of unknowns. The calm in the middle of desert sandstorm and I don’t want to live another day without her knowing it.
Epilogue
Ford
Three Months Later
“I knew it,” Peyton says, her voice ringing out over the shouts of children and the sounds of splashing water. “You’re trying to kill me. This whole time I thought you were trying to help me, but nooo.”
I glance down at her and hold back a laugh. Her blonde hair is matted against her head and draped over her shoulders like tentacles. Her blood-shot eyes shoot daggers as I say, “If I wanted to kill you, I could have saved myself the trouble and let you drown the first time.”
Her fingers dig into my biceps, even though I’ve got her securely by the waist. “I think it’s your long game. You lulled me into a false sense of security, and now that I’m not expecting it, you’re going to go for the throat.”
Pulling her closer to me, I bring her ear to my lips. “I could think of other ways I could torture you that would be much more pleasurable.”
Peyton slaps my arm, but I don’t miss the way her eyes darken and a smile teases her mouth. “Stop playing. I’m trying to concentrate.”
“It’s not rocket science, sunshine.”
“So says you.”
“So says the five-year-old behind you, who is literally swimming laps around you.”
Her head whips around and she flushes prettily. “Clearly that child is a prodigy. Notify the U.S. Olympic team. We’ve found the next Phelps.”
“Stop worrying about it. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
She eyes the water with blatant mistr
ust. “It’s not you I’m worrying about. It’s what lurks beneath the murky depths that scares me.”
“Nothing down there but fish and frogs wondering what the hell you’re doing on dry land.”
“If you must know, I’m currently deciding whether or not I should risk dunking your head underwater. The thought terrifies me, but it would give me immense satisfaction.”
I step in front of her, blocking her view of the lake and guide her gaze up to mine. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll be here the whole time. All you have to do is hold onto me.”
Her body softens and her grip eases on my arms. “Okay, okay, fine.” She grimaces, then takes a step forward. Guided by my hold, I ease her a couple feet into the water, going slowly so she can acclimate.
“Thank you for not throwing me in,” she says as we pause.
My grin is slow in response. “I don’t mind at all, baby. I’ve got the best view in the place. You in that swimsuit is all the motivation I need, and you can take all the time you want.”
“You’re terrible.”
“And you’re stuck with me.”
As we wade deeper into the water, her movements turn jerky and the color bleaches from her face. “That fact has never been more evident, considering you’ve got my life in your hands.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.” But it is the first where the thought doesn’t send me running scared. Instead, I want to hold her closer. I want to let her know she can always count on me to be there for her, that she can trust me to stick when shit gets slippery. “So tell me,” I say to distract her, “how is it you never learned how to swim?”
She squints into the sunlight, diamonds of water dripping off all her delectable curves. “I was one of those girly girls who stuck to the beach and worked on my tan.”
“Damn shame,” I say.
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause you sure as hell look good all wet.”
“Don’t get me all worked up.”
I chuckle. “We’ll save that for after you swim.”
“You’re very optimistic today. What’s with that? Where’s my pessimistic grouch?”
“He’s on vacation. I’ve got a pretty girl, a cold beer waiting in a cooler, and some fish with my name on them. I’m thinking fish fry tomorrow. Maybe we invite Mercy and Lexie over, Nell and her family. Make it a whole thing.”
“We should invite Hadley, too. He deserves it after we gave him such a hard time the past couple months.”
“Well, all right then.” When I tug on her arms she comes with me, her weight resting on my chest as I take us deeper into the water. “That’s it, baby. I’ve got you. Just let your legs float up. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
Her arms wrap around my shoulders and I have to admit I could get used to these swimming lessons. I’ll take any excuse to have her half naked body pressed against mine.
“I have something to talk to you about. I figure now is a good time since I’ve got a good hold on you, so you won’t be able to run away.”
“I’m not going anywhere, so why don’t we give floating a try.”
She squints at me again. “You’re not allowed to make a quick escape, Ford Collier.”
“I won’t.” I help her flip over and steady her with my hands splayed over her spine. “The trick is to relax your body, it does most of the work for you. If you start to sink, arch your spine a little and bend your knees. That’s it. You’re doing great.”
“I like having you as my own personal cheerleader. I could get used to it. Did they teach that in the Marines?”
“Keep talking,” I tell her and then whisper all the filthy things I can do to that smart mouth if she keeps it up.
When I finish, her skin is flushed, but it isn’t from the sun. She clears her throat. “Anyway, I got a phone call from Uncle Bradley today. The lawyer who embezzled the rest of the funds from my parents’ accounts has been charged, and the emergency relief fund generated by the bar associations for these sort of circumstances is cutting me a check for the amount he stole.”
My eyes trail down her tight stomach and the flare of her hips. “That’s great news. I’m happy for you.”
“Would you still be happy if I told you I was going to stay in Windy Point? Permanently.”
My head jerks back, my body stiffens, and I study her serene expression intently. “Permanently?”
Her hands make lazy angel wings on the surface of the water. “That’s right. After Alice was convicted, you know her husband put the business up for sale. It seems he’s going to move back to his hometown up north.”
My throat goes tight. “I heard that somewhere. Small towns, you know.”
A smile plays at her lips. “I’ve heard that somewhere. Anyway, I decided to buy it using the money from the trust. I’m going to reopen it doing the same things, but also offer children’s classes, art showings from local artists. I have a ton of ideas.”
“You’re staying?” I manage, all jokes aside. I hadn’t given much thought to what would happen after everything settled down. In the moment, I’d only been concerned about keeping Peyton alive, and then about enjoying what time I had with her. I couldn’t ask her to put her life on hold for me, not when she was finally enjoying her freedom again. The last thing I wanted to do was put her in a cage.
“Of course I’m staying. My life is here.”
“The business is a great opportunity for you. I’m proud of you.”
She gets to her feet, faces me. “I wasn’t talking about the business, although that’s one part of it. I was talking about you.”
Suddenly, I’m the one afraid, although it’s not because of the water. “Me?”
“That is, if you’ll have me?” Her eyes shine up at me, and I wonder what I did to deserve someone so perfect for me in every way.
I cup her jaw and brush my lips over hers. “I was going to ask you at some point, but I wanted to give you time. I guess you beat me to it.”
“You were taking too long. I got impatient when I saw the way you were looking at me. You aren’t mad that I didn’t let you be the dashing hero and let you ask me first?”
“I don’t give a damn about that. All I want is you, any and every way I can have you.”
“I love you, Ford. So much,” she says against my mouth. “I don’t want to go a day without saying that to you.”
“And I don’t want to go a day without you.”
Tears slide down her cheeks and she brushes them away with her fingers. “I’m not going to cry and since today is a day for firsts—the first day of the rest of our lives together, because now you’re stuck with me—I’m going to swim.”
I squeeze her hand to let her know I’ll be here, whenever she needs me. With a deep inhalation, she dives into the waist-deep water and begins to kick her feet. Her first attempts are more error than success, but with each trial, she goes a little deeper, stays up a little longer.
By the time the sun starts its descent and most of the other people have cleared out, she’s streaking through the water like a dolphin, and I’ve retreated to the chairs set halfway in the gentle waves for my first beer. I’d planned on fishing hours ago, but that can wait for tomorrow. There’s plenty of time for solitude, I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime anyway.
Speaking of solitude, I think of the contents of the box Tate’s family had forwarded to me. I’d called his mother when I finally got the balls to open it and we spent some time remembering Ryan. She asked me what it was like when he died and I told her the truth. He’d fallen asleep and it was as peaceful as any one of us could have wished. When she thanked me, she asked that I pass along the contents of the box to the appropriate parties. Considering it was the least I could do, the package and its contents were now on their way to Cal, who’d either kill me or worse when he realized who it was from.
But I’d deal with it either way, because I wasn’t alone anymore, and I never would be again.
When Peyton
comes back to me to sit on my lap and kiss me crazy, then bounds off to dive back into the water, I realize she needed someone to give her room to breathe and I needed someone who’d stick—no matter how much I tried to push them away.
As her laughter rings in my ears, I relax back into my chair. If every day from now until my dying day is a repeat of this one, I’d go to the grave a happy man.
Operator
Cal
Sweet Creek, Tennessee
Cal, the package begins, I know you don’t much want to hear from me, but I figure someone has to man up and be the one to reach out, and it may as well be me. I know how you feel about me and I understand, but there are some things you should know.
If my gut is right, and you may disagree, but you may not, then you may be in danger. I would have called or emailed, but I wasn’t sure if you’d have taken it. Everything you need to know is in this package. If you want me to drop it, I will, but Ryan deserved better. We all did.
I’m available if you want to talk.
Miss you, brother. Be well.
Ford
Twin flames of grief ignite in my chest as the piece of paper with the familiar scribble crumples in my hand. The box lay innocently on my stoop, an unwelcome reminder of a past I want nothing more than to forget.
I down the beer I’m drinking and unlock the door, then kick the package through with the toe of my boot. It skids across the scuffed wood floor and lands underneath the jutting expanse of the bar. I leave it there like a live grenade that I want fuck all to do with.
Instead, I get another beer after tossing the other, retreat to my favorite recliner, and turn on a random sports channel for the white noise. I drink two more before my phone rings, interrupting the buzz I’m trying to work on.
When I see the name on the phone, I consider ignoring it, too. Must be a day for blasts from the past, but I have no real interest in a history lesson.
Traitor (Last to Leave Book 1) Page 18