Chapter 10 Kelsie
Chapter ten
Kelsie
Noah and I didn’t return to Brightwater for three long weeks.
To my surprise, he didn’t lock me in a motel room the entire time we were gone.
Instead, we actually did things, like hiking at national parks, stocking up on fresh fruit at a farmer’s market, and dumb touristy stuff, like visiting the world’s largest ball of twine.
Even though I hated the circumstances that got us here in the first place, I appreciated the chance to spend some quality time with my brother. As much as I craved my independence, I still liked hanging out with Noah.
But it killed me that I couldn’t contact Ryker and he couldn’t contact me. No texting, no phone calls, not even an email.
At a rest stop, I overheard Noah on the phone with Ryker. But the conversation was brief, for information only. And Noah wouldn’t relay it to me, no matter how much I pestered him about it.
Then one morning, I woke up nauseous. All I could stomach for breakfast was a bottle of water and a handful of crackers. Noah pressed his hand to my forehead, hitting mother hen mode.
“Could be food poisoning,” he said. “Our diet has been pretty rough lately.”
I shook my head, giving up on the package of crackers I’d barely touched. They tasted like paste anyway.
“Some of those public bathrooms were petri dishes,” I said. “I could have been exposed to any number of viruses and bacteria.”
“The alternative was squatting in the bushes on the side of the road,” Noah offered brightly.
My stomach pitched and bile burned in the back of my throat. I groaned, tipping my head back in my chair.
“You’re enjoying this way too much. I can barely keep my breakfast from coming back up, and you’re cracking jokes.”
“I mean, we could change the subject. Would you like to talk about the roasted tarantulas that are served in other parts of the world—”
“Noah!”
He chuckled. I heard him moving around the room, followed by the rush of water. Then he draped a cold, damp washcloth over my eyes. I sighed with relief.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yeah. Just…don’t bring up the barbecued spiders again. Please.”
“Would you prefer barbecued grasshoppers instead?”
I gagged and removed the washcloth from my eyes to glare at him. Noah grinned.
That playful attitude was a distraction.
When he thought I wasn’t looking, I’d seen Noah positioning himself in restaurants with his back to the wall, facing the door.
I’d seen him scanning our surroundings everywhere we went—gas stations, visitor’s centers, coffee shops, grocery stores—like a watchdog on patrol, alert for danger.
At night, he rarely slept.
Even though we were hundreds of miles away from home, Noah still didn’t think I was safe.
“Noah, we can’t live like this forever,” I said. “What about the Veteran’s Day Gala?”
He shrugged.
“That’s not until November. We have plenty of time.”
I scoffed.
“Not when you’re the founder and lead organizer.”
My brother lived for the Veteran’s Day Gala, almost as much as he looked forward to Christmas every year.
When he first started working as a physical therapist for veterans, Noah noticed right away how many soldiers didn’t have families of their own to come home to.
They needed something to cheer them up, to welcome them into the community, to make them feel like someone cared about the sacrifices they made and the work they did to defend their country.
So, he put together the Gala. With food, dancing, a live band, and a baked goods fundraiser, the proceeds went to charity, assisting wounded veterans who needed housing and medical care.
Noah would never miss the Gala as long as there was breath in his body. And I was not going to be the reason that he skipped it this year.
“There are dozens of people who coordinate and plan the event now,” Noah protested. “No one would even notice that I was gone.”
“Noah,” I said sternly.
Aside from a brief walk in the park, I’d been laid up in bed all day, watching TV or napping. My upset stomach had ruined my appetite, but I still managed to eat some fruit and yogurt. If I was going to be this useless, we might as well go back to Brightwater where I could be sick at home.
“Three weeks isn’t long enough to shake this guy who’s stalking you,” Noah said. “Stalkers can be persistent, you know. I think we should give it another week or two.”
My stomach churned. I missed the comfort of my own living space, not these temporary, stale motel rooms. I missed my job and the kids.
I missed Ryker.
“At this rate, I should just pack up and move to another town,” I replied, wryly.
“Not a bad idea,” Noah mused. “I’ll come with you.”
I huffed a dry laugh. Of course he would say that.
“Look. We’ve been getting along pretty well so far. I think we should call it quits before that changes and we’re at each other’s throats.”
Noah twisted in his chair to glance at me.
“Why are you so eager to get home? Aren’t you enjoying some time off?”
I sighed and rubbed my forehead.
“I just…I want my life to go back to normal, Noah. This damn stalker has ruined everything and I’m tired of it. And if you don’t take me home, then I’ll start driving myself."
Noah put out a hand to stop me.
“Cool your jets, butterbean. You’re not getting anywhere near my Jeep until you have a barf bag on hand with the state you’re in. And for the record, I’m still uneasy about going home. So if I smell a whiff of trouble, we’re changing plans. No arguments. Got it?”
“Yep,” I said with a nod.
Smiling to myself, I wiggled deeper into the mattress. I couldn’t wait to see Ryker again.
By the time we made it back to Brightwater, September had passed and October had arrived in full color.
The aspens were a brilliant golden yellow against the clear blue sky.
Jack-o-lanterns began to appear on porches and in windows with their crooked grins.
A chill hung in the air and the first frost left feather patterns on windows before the sun’s heat melted them away.
Noah insisted I had to stay with him at his house until we were absolutely sure that the threat of my stalker had passed.
So, I held my breath and waited.
One week faded into another. October slowly marched toward November.
Everything was quiet. Ordinary. No signs of my stalker.
The nausea I’d endured on the road trip dissipated and my appetite gradually began to return. Noah reluctantly agreed to return my phone to me, as long as I kept him updated throughout the day to make sure I was safe.
Slowly, I felt myself relaxing. Piece by piece, day by day, I was getting my life back.
Then one morning, just as I was getting ready to leave for work, I emerged from the guest room to see Noah pouring a cup of coffee for Ryker in the kitchen. I screeched to a stop at the sight of them, standing together, looking like night and day.
Noah had golden cherub curls and a smile that lit up his whole face. There was something magnetic about his personality, his charm. Despite his overbearing nature with me, he still radiated this warmth and friendliness that made people feel safe with him.
By comparison, Ryker looked like a knife prepared to slash.
Where Noah was casual and relaxed, Ryker’s body was tense, poised to move, to hit back.
His cold blue eyes flicked to me with an assessing look, but there was nothing in his gaze that suggested any of the familiarity we’d shared that night we spent together in his cabin.
It was the first time I’d seen Ryker in weeks. I’d envisioned this moment so many times while I was away. How he would smile at me with unmistakable affection in his eyes, and wrap me in a hug that lingered for too long because neither of us wanted it to end.
Instead, there was…nothing.
And it hurt.
I knew it had to be exactly like this.
But my eyes burned with tears and my jaw ached from clenching it so tight, preventing myself from crying.
“Hey, Kels,” Noah said. “Ryker stopped by to say hi. I’m trying to bully him into going to the Veteran’s Day Gala, but you know he hates stuff like that.”
Ryker wrenched his gaze away from me.
“How many times do I have to tell you? I can’t dance for shit.”
“It wouldn’t kill you to learn. Besides, the other soldiers don’t care if you have two left feet. They’re happy if you just show up and chat. Grab some food. Swap stories.”
“I’m bad at that, too, in case you haven’t noticed,” Ryker protested.
“Well, you won’t get any better at it by hiding out in the woods."
“I’ll think about it.”
“In Ryker language, that means no,” Noah said. “I’ve been running this gala for years, and you always say I’ll think about it. But you never show.”
I watched Noah and Ryker banter back and forth. This is what it looked like—returning to normal as if nothing had ever happened. My stalker was gone. And Ryker was just my brother’s best friend. Not the guy I slept with.
After another minute or two, Ryker set his coffee mug on the counter.
“I’d better get out of your hair,” he said. “It’s good to have you back in town, Noah. Glad to hear your trip went well.”
He held my gaze as he passed me. But he didn’t say anything. My fingers itched to reach out and touch him. To slide my hands under his shirt and trace his skin the way I did that night.
Licking my lips, I forced myself to look away, swallowing the hot coal of my desire.
Then Ryker was gone. An emptiness settled in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I should have known it would be painful to see him again, burdened by the understanding that I could never have him. But I wasn’t prepared for the excruciating torture it would be.
The Veteran’s Day Gala was a whirlwind of activity. The town hall had been transformed with streamers, fairy lights, balloons, and a buffet table.