Chapter Sixteen #2
“Well, there was a tree. My guess is it broke my fall from the fireball that was once my plane and by the grace of God or the devil’s amusement, I didn’t die from the freezing cold or get torn apart by wolves like Cassie.”
“What an ordeal you must have had,” he dryly replies with a strained smile. “Thankfully, all of that is behind you now. You’re safe. You’re alive.” More pointedly, he adds, with his gaze flickering toward the silent, fuming man next to me, “You must be eager to get home.”
“Eh,” I say with a shrug. Khalil grumbles unhappily when I move away to slowly circle the room, giving myself a tour. The living room looks straight out of a home catalog. There’s no personal touch to be found anywhere. “Not really.”
“E-excuse me?”
“I said I’m not ready to go, but you can. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine and enjoying this little corner of the world, so not to worry. I’m sure you have a lot to do back home.”
“Is this a joke?”
“What part sounded funny to you?” I stop to pick up a statuette of a slender deer with large antlers.
While we were in town earlier, Khalil had been approached by a few people who were eager to have him carve custom pieces like this statuette for them.
I was even more surprised to learn that he sold his for a fraction of the price of whatever designer company the decorator had purchased it from.
“Aurelia, you can’t possibly think that I’ll allow you to stay here. Your place is with me back in the States.”
“You didn’t seem to think that when you sent me here.”
“That was for your own good,” Uncle Mars volleys back.
“I think a plane crash and all the people who died horrible deaths except for me would beg to differ.”
“You can’t blame yourself for that.” He waves dismissively.
“Then who should I blame, Uncle? You?”
“It’s no one’s fault. It was a rogue blizzard. An act of God.”
“Well, that act of God came with a warning that you ignored, and it got nine people killed.”
“Eight.”
I freeze, and out of my peripheral I could swear Khalil does the same. “Run that back?”
“The crash only killed eight. You weren’t the only survivor, Aurelia.”
It feels as if I’ve been punched in the gut. Sensing the change, Khalil rushes over to me, and I grab his arms to steady myself. I don’t even care that my uncle is witnessing me fall apart or that I’m accepting comfort from a strange man.
“W-who?” I finally ask even though my tormented heart has already whispered his name to me.
“Tyler Westbrook,” he offers immediately. “Your bodyguard.”
“No. I…I saw him. The avalanche… It pushed him over the cliff.”
Thorin and Seth’s whispered conversation during one of my brief bouts of consciousness after they saved me from the storm came rushing back.
“She kept calling me Tyler.”
“You mean the kid we found a week ago?”
And then later, when the four of us were lounging in Khalil’s bed just needing to be close after Thorin tried to give Seth a haircut and Seth tried to disembowel him with the scissors. Khalil had been acting like a jealous boyfriend wanting to know if I’d slept with my bodyguard.
I told him that the answer didn’t matter because he was dead, and none of them corrected me. They let me believe the worst so they could have me all to themselves.
“No.” I shake my head. “That’s impossible.”
Was it? the voice in my head asked. Was it truly impossible that Tyler survived the avalanche, or did I simply not want to believe that my mountain men had lied to me?
“He survived,” my uncle insists. “Tyler’s alive. He was found by search and rescue and brought home.”
My gaze flies to Khalil, whose jaw twitches when he reads the accusation in my eyes.
You told me he was dead.
I know. Later, his eyes seem to plead.
But what possible explanation could he have for intentionally causing me pain?
“Westbrook was in a coma for a few weeks, but he’s already made a swift recovery,” Uncle Mars continues. “I’m sure knowing you made it too will make up for the loss of his leg.”
My uncle coldly delivers that last bit of news like the dagger to the heart it’s intended to be.
Bile riles in my throat when I fail to push away the image of Tyler waking up in the hospital, confused, scared, and missing a limb.
All my fault.
“Come with me.” My uncle’s tone is gentle when he holds out his hand. “I can take you to him. I know how close you two were.”
It’s a lie. If my uncle had the smallest inkling how much Tyler had meant to me as my only friend, he wouldn’t have hesitated to fire him and have him blackballed from the industry to ensure we were never in the same room again.
“I…I can’t.” I realize how that sounds when the sheriff shifts in agitation and starts eyeing Khalil like he’s imagining him in handcuffs. “I-I mean I want to stay. My place is here.”
The microscopic shift in my uncle’s demeanor would be undetectable to the untrained eye.
Unfortunately, I’ve had a lot of practice recognizing and navigating my uncle’s temper.
I know the moment his mask starts to slip when he realizes his plot to use Tyler to manipulate me is failing.
“What about Tyler? Don’t you want to see him? ”
“Yes, but not if it means going back with you.”
“Why the hell not?”
I barely suppress the urge to flinch and keep my voice light like I’m just a girl who’s lost in the throes and machinations of love and new beginnings. It can’t be helped. “Because I like it here. I want to stay.”
“No. That is not an option.”
Seeing that we’re getting nowhere, I turn and face the gruff older man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Sheriff, would you mind waiting outside?”
The sheriff’s gaze bounces between Khalil, my uncle, and me. “Would that be wise?”
My uncle visibly bristles when it becomes clear that no one in this room trusts him alone with me.
“My niece is perfectly safe in my care. If anything, I should have your badge for your blatant incompetence in finding her and bringing her home. She’s been missing for months, and here she is standing in front of me without a scratch on her and no explanation.
It’s clear she’s no longer sound of mind, and I’m still deciding who to hold responsible,” he says with a pointed glare at Khalil.
Khalil merely cracks his neck before adjusting his stance and crossing his arms. The move makes the huge muscles in his arms bulge, effectively warning off anyone stupid enough to consider trying him.
Ignoring my uncle’s tirade, I turn to the sheriff, who suddenly looks unsure. “I’ll be fine.”
“If you insist. I’ll be right on the porch,” he warns before nodding, tipping his hat, and leaving.
When my gaze travels to Khalil, he immediately catches on and growls before I can make the request. “Don’t even think about it, Goldilocks.”
Foolishly, I wanted the chance to face my uncle alone and prove he had no real power over me, but I can tell that Khalil won’t give a damn.
“Fine. You can stay,” I utter under my breath. “But promise me that no matter what you hear, you will not interfere. I have to deal with him on my own. In my own way.”
A few emotions play across Khalil’s face as he internally battles with that part of himself that sees me as being strong and capable and the other part that wants to defend me no matter what.
One false move and he won’t hesitate to snap my uncle in half.
Actually, as amusing as that would be to watch, it’s not worth the risk with the sheriff right outside.
On the other hand, Khalil doesn’t look like he gives a damn about that either.
It’s hard to be upset with him knowing he’d do anything to keep me safe, but it’s not a get-out-jail-free card.
I’ll scream and curse and cry at his betrayal later. Better to do it when Thorin and Zeke are around to receive my ire as well. I won’t have to rinse and repeat.
As soon as the sheriff is gone, my uncle gestures toward Khalil—the only other threat in the room that’s keeping him from saying and doing whatever he wants with me. “Who are you?” he demands even though the narrowing of his gaze tells me he already knows.
“He’s the man who saved my life. One of them anyway.”
“And you’ve been with him? This whole time?”
“Pretty much.”
“So what do you want?” my uncle asks Khalil. “Money?”
Khalil growls and bares his teeth.
I clear my throat. “I wouldn’t do that again if I were you.”
“Do what?” my uncle snaps.
“Insult him. He’s not here for money. He’s here for me.”
“Aurelia, you’re an incredibly wealthy woman.
Don’t be so naive. This is why you need me.
This is why you cannot stay here and continue pretending you’re dead.
It’s going to be hard enough explaining your disappearance without some internet personality with a few followers calling it a hoax.
How many gullible people do you think it will take for the rumor to spread like wildfire and become popular opinion?
” Before I can respond and tell him just how little I care, he plows on, his voice turning desperate and pleading.
“Right now, the world is mourning you. For fuck’s sake, you’ve practically been given sainthood!
But if it gets out that you’re not only alive but allowing everyone to believe you’re dead so you can shack up with this…
this…Neanderthal, we’ll end up right back where we started. Worse even!”
Classic Uncle Mars. Only ever concerned about the optics.
I’m so glad I’ve decided not to live like that anymore.
The best part of being dead is no fucks to give.
“I hear you, Uncle Mars, but I don’t care, and it’s not up to you.
I’m not the same girl you sent up here to lick her wounds. You can’t control me anymore.”
“Is that what you think I was doing? I raised you. I protected you. Goddamn it, I made you!”
“No. You used me.”
“I made you a star.”
“And fattened your pockets while you were at it, so I’d say we’re even. I don’t owe you a thing.”