“Saw y’all comin’ in late last night.” He said, darting his eyes knowingly between Max and I. I lowered my gaze to the floor as a light blush creeped across my cheeks. I risked a quick look up at Max, catching a glimpse of his sly smirk and a playful wink, his eyes twinkling.
As if the universe was throwing me a proverbial bone of avoidance, my phone chimed from the counter. I flipped it over to see who might be texting me. This kitchen held most of the people on my daily call log, so I couldn’t imagine who’d be texting me this early.
A gasp escaped my lips as my breathing hitched, a cold sweat breaking out across my brow, and my heart pounding in my chest.
Unknown Number: u can run but u cnt hide
I immediately felt light-headed and gripped the countertop behind me for support.
That was impossible.
It had been a month already, with radio silence. How had they found us? Had they found us?
The questions swirled through my head like a hurricane. I felt the rapid beat of my heart in my ears as I fought to breathe.
I sensed a warm presence step in front of me. He slowly took the coffee cup I’d been absent-mindedly clutching from my hand and set it on the counter.
I felt like I was floating in an ocean and everyone was speaking to me from above the surface, their voices muffled. Max’s words of comfort were lost in a blur, his voice a whispered hum against the roaring in my ears.
“Ma!” Charlie’s tiny voice called out through the haze,breaking me from my stupor. I shook my head, trying to clear away the fog of panic, the dizzying rush of fear still clinging to me like a shroud.
“Stella. What’s wrong?” Max asked while gently putting his hand around my phone in an attempt to pry it from my clutched hand. I loosened my hold on the device and Max took it, studying the message that had sent me off the deep end. I could see his rage bubbling to the surface as he stomped over to the table and slammed the phone down in front of Ray.
In her defense, she didn’t flinch. She read the message over with a furrow between her brows and looked at me in confusion.
“What is this?” She asked, her eyes scanning the cryptic message one more time.
Ray was perceptive, but I’d left everyone but Max in the dark about the danger Charlie and I were in. I didn’t want them being dragged into the darkness that I knew would eventually catch up with me.
Sighing, I sat down in one of the wooden chairs around the table. With a sigh, I knew it was finally time to share what had happened.
“I guess it’s time to tell y’all what brought us to Firefly Cove…” I started. Max sat beside me, taking my small hand in his, a warm reassurance that he was here for support, but this wasmystory to tell.
After twenty minutes, a million questions - primarily from Ray, and one scrambled egg induced meltdown, I’d finally coughed up a watered-down version of our story. I left out the gritty details of seeing Dean’s lifeless body, but gave a comprehensive overview of how much danger we’d brought to their little town.
“I know this is a lot, and I don’t expect any of you to just up and throw yourself into the drama that I’ve brought to your doorstep. These people are unhinged and dangerous. I can’t expect you guys to put yourselves in their sights.”
The room was silent except for the nervous drumming of my fingers against the table as everyone absorbed the weight of my words. I had expected them to insist that we move, but without hesitation, Pops stood up, placed his hand on my shoulder, and declared with the weathered gruffness only found in a cowboy, “Family takes care of their own. We’ve got you.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from falling as I dropped my head in relief. The process of learning to accept help from others had been challenging, but I was slowly getting better at it. I realized that I needed to embrace the community we had built and stop fighting them every step of the way. These people had proven time and time again that they weren’t going to run at the slightest hint of trouble.
Ray excused herself with the promise that she was going to call her dad and have him come over with any resources he could supply. Having the Sheriff in your back pocket at a time like this wasn’t a bad idea. The thought of retelling the whole story again filled me with dread, but Max’s comforting hand squeeze reassured me that I wouldn’t face it alone.
Less than thirty minutes later, Sheriff Cortez sat across from Max and me in the dimly lit living room, the air thick with tension as I repeated the story for what felt like the hundredth time. I’d insisted Wade and Ray take Charlie outside; I needed to share the unvarnished truth and I didn’t want Charlie hearing all the gory details.
I figured they also didn’t need the gruesome specifics, but I wanted to ensure the Sheriff received every piece ofinformation we possessed, no matter how unpleasant it was to recount.
“I can assure you, Stella, we will do everything in our power to catch these guys. I appreciate you being forthcoming in the information you’ve provided.” He had promised.
Instead of Ray coming to the ranch, I’d frequently drop Charlie off at their home, meeting Ray’s father in relaxed, unofficial encounters–usually in the midst of cheerful morning chaos. He was always warm and inviting, a loyal family man. He loved to recount how Charlie’s playful nature and unwavering optimism kept him young, that she was a constant reminder of the world’s goodness.
Having raised ten kids of his own, you could tell he was comfortable taking on that fatherly role. I hadn’t heard much about Ray’s mom being in the picture, but I wasn’t about to pry into her home life. I hadn’t ever seen her when I came to visit, so maybe one day she’d feel comfortable opening up to me about her.
Ray’s father showed no surprise when Ray placed Charlie on his lap during my first visit, even while she went back to grab things from the car. He’d tried everything to make her laugh: cooing sweet nothings, pulling funny faces, and bouncing her playfully on his knee, making horsey sounds.
Seeing him in his uniform and role as the hardened officer had thrown me off at first. One moment he was jovial and carefree, the next a stern protector; yet, both sides were driven by a fierce protectiveness.
I felt uneasy as I recalled the events to the best of my ability. When I got to the part in the story describing my near assault, I could feel Max’s hand tighten around mine. He’d refused to let go at any point between reading the text and now. That grounding touch was comforting, a familiarweight that steadied me and gave me the strength to continue.
