CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Nova
STEPPING OUT OF MY SUBARU, I CLOSED THE DOOR AND tipped my face up to the sun. It was one of those magical fall days, when even though the temperatures had dropped, the sun took the edge off. I felt … lighter.
And when I closed my eyes, I swore I could still feel Kol’s arms around me, his big body almost cocooning me. Those rough fingers ghosting over my jawline.
“Whatcha thinkin’ about so hard over there?”
The familiar voice had my eyes flying open and my hand fisting around the adorable angry cat key chain Kol had given me. Reese Gatlin stood about twenty feet away with a grin on his face.
Anger surged as I reminded myself to breathe. The back door of the Boot was only ten feet away or so. If I screamed, someone would come running.
“Wylder’s going to have you arrested for trespassing,” I warned the reporter.
Reese simply grinned at me. “I’m on the art gallery’s property, actually. So I think I’m safe.”
I muttered a curse as I saw that he was, in fact, right. “What do you want?”
He held up both hands in surrender. “I’m not trying to make your life harder. I’m really not. I was over the moon when they found you alive. With all the time I spent covering your case … I feel like I know you.”
“You don’t,” I snapped. I thought about asking him about the news clippings, but something told me he’d get a charge out of my discomfort. Better to make him think it hadn’t bothered me at all.
He lifted one shoulder and then dropped it. “I bet I know more than you think. I know that you come from a tough family situation. Mom has been arrested for public intoxication five times. Dad lost his license after a second charge of drunk driving. Brother in prison for armed robbery.”
My fingers curled tighter around the angry cat key chain. It wasn’t as if people hadn’t dug up those details before; it was just that they weren’t usually hurled at me in person.
“You worked hard to get yourself out of that situation,” Reese went on. “Worked hard to break the cycle.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted blood.
Because he wasn’t wrong. I’d known from an early age that I didn’t want to be anything like my parents.
Didn’t want anything to do with the stuff they drank that burned when you smelled it.
I didn’t want to fight and throw things like they did.
I didn’t want to have kids and then ignore everything about them.
“Let me tell the real story,” Reese cajoled. “Beginning to end. In your voice.”
“Not interested,” I clipped and stalked toward the back door of the Boot, making sure to keep the reporter in my periphery.
“Come on, Nova,” Reese called. “I’m gonna tell it with or without you. Don’t you want to have some control?”
Damn him to hell. Of course I wanted some control. That was the thing I’d clung to my whole life. A safety blanket—one that had been ripped out from under me and torn to shreds when Travis took me. Because I realized I’d never had any control to begin with. No one did.
I punched in the code on the Boot’s back door and yanked it open, stalking inside. The moment it snicked closed behind me, I stopped. I took a second to breathe because I knew if Brae or Wylder saw me now, they’d know that something was up.
In and out. Nice and steady.
Reese could write whatever the hell he wanted to write. He could make a stupid documentary. It wouldn’t be my voice, my story. Because that would always belong to me.
The reminder helped. With a long exhale, I started down the hall toward the voices. We had about fifteen minutes until opening, so the music was still turned down low.
“I’m telling you,” Piper said with a sigh, “he is the absolute dreamiest. And a true gentleman. He opened doors, paid for dinner, walked me to my porch, and only kissed my cheek.”
“What’s going on?” I asked as I took in the crowd around the bar.
Cora and Brae were refilling salt and pepper shakers while Fiona was working on the ketchup. Aidan frowned as he sliced lemon wedges, and Piper was pink-cheeked and practically vibrating.
Brae grinned at me. “Piper’s met herself a real live cowboy.”
“A bull rider,” Piper amended.
I let out a low whistle as I stuck my bag into the cabinet where we housed our belongings for our shifts. “This is big news.”
“You know,” Aidan cut in, “I rode a bull once.”
Fiona arched a brow. “The only bull you know is bull hockey.”
“Hey,” he shot back, offended. “It might’ve been mechanical, but I set a record for that bar over in Clover Creek.”
Brae let out a soft snicker, and Cora just shook her head and moved on to the next pepper shaker.
“It counts,” Aidan pressed.
Piper reached across the bar and patted his arm. “Keep telling yourself that.” She did a little spin away from the bar. “I’m telling you guys. I think this is it. Love.”
Fiona’s lips curved. “Ah, to be young.”
Cora’s gaze lifted, a cross between pain and worry in her eyes. “Just be careful. You don’t know a lot about him yet.”
An invisible fist ground against my sternum. She’d learned that you never really knew anyone in the most brutal of ways.
Piper stilled, her face falling. “Of course. I’m taking it slow.”
“Good.” Cora wiped her hands on a bar towel. “I’ll get the front doors open. It’s almost time.”
“I’ll help,” I offered quickly, meeting her on the other side of the bar as she headed toward the entrance.
I didn’t say anything as I fell into step beside her. But Cora’s gaze flicked to me for the briefest of moments. “I’m fine.”
“It would be okay if you weren’t.” I realized I was the biggest fraud, walking around telling everyone I was okay when I was far from it but encouraging Cora to be honest about her feelings.
“But I also get that it doesn’t always feel safe to let anyone else in on that.
Find someone. Just one person you can let in. It helps.”
Cora’s gaze flicked to the back hallway and held as Wylder appeared, his dark hair a little rumpled, and his scruff a little longer. Then her focus flicked back to me. “You find someone you can be honest with?”
I thought about it for a long moment. “I have. And I think it’s starting to set me free.”
Cora let out a long breath as she flipped the locks. “I’m gonna find that one day. Freedom.”
I wanted to reach out and squeeze her shoulder or her arm. But I wasn’t quite brave enough. Not yet. “I know you will.”
We got to work on the trickle of customers who were there right at opening and wrapped up refilling all the condiments and restocking the bar. As I finished with the limes, I glanced at Wylder.
“Need something?” he asked, not looking up from his phone. If there wasn’t a customer in front of him, his gaze was on that screen. But he didn’t look like he was playing a game or scrolling social media. It looked like he was reading something. Or maybe he was a crossword puzzle aficionado.
“I have a question.”
He straightened, his gaze swinging to me as he locked his phone and shoved it into his back pocket. “I may have an answer.”
“How would you feel about training me behind the bar? I could be a backup bartender when things get busy.”
His dark brows rose. “You wanna tend bar?”
I shrugged. “I’d like to learn. Maybe I’ll hate it, but it seems kind of fun.”
Wylder’s lips twitched. “It can be. It’s a hell of a lot to memorize.”
“I can make flashcards.”
A low chuckle left him. “All right, then. You can start with beers. Once I see you’re not pouring drafts that are half foam, we can move on to simple drinks. But why don’t you stay behind the bar with me for the first few hours today? You can handle food and beer as you watch and learn.”
I did a little half jump. “Thank you.”
Wylder shook his head but did it with a smile. “You might regret this when I’m asking you to pull the night shift for me.”
“We’ll just have to see about that.” I dumped the lime wedges into the container and then turned toward the bar. I nearly stumbled back a step as I took in the man opposite me.
Jack.
I remembered his name from the Compass meeting I’d attended, but it was the dark shadows playing across his features that I’d truly memorized.
Clearing my throat, I forced a smile as I grabbed a menu and deposited it on the bar top. “Hey there. Can I get you something to drink while you’re looking at the menu?”
“Coke.” His voice sounded just a little rusty. “Please,” he added.
“Coming right up.” I used the ice scoop to fill a glass and then reached for the soda gun. “Straw?”
Jack shook his head.
“Here you go. Do you know what you’d like to eat?”
He studied me for a long moment. “I saw the news article.”
Everything in me went rigid.
“That reporter bothering you?” he growled.
The tension running through me eased. Jack might be a little scowly, but he was just checking on me.
That knowledge had a smile coming more easily to my lips. “He’s nothing I can’t handle.”
Jack studied me for a long moment before giving me a slight nod. “You let me know if you want me to handle him instead.”
There was an edge to Jack’s voice that worried me.
Not because it was directed at me, but because I could tell it came from pain.
I understood it. Losing your wife to a serial killer—someone you knew—was bound to mess with your head.
But I worried that he was so on edge, he might do something he regretted.
“Thanks for the offer,” I said softly. “You just make sure you’re taking care of yourself, okay?”
Jack didn’t answer for a moment, then moved his head in a small, jerky nod. “Can I get the fried chicken wrap with sweet potato fries?”
“You bet.” I scrawled the items on my pad and placed the paper on the order wheel. “Order in.”
“Thanks, honey,” Fiona called with a smile.
As I turned back around, I caught sight of movement.
The bar was getting more crowded, but it didn’t matter; my whole body was attuned to the man crossing the space.
Kol wore those olive-green tactical pants he often donned for fieldwork and boots that had seen their share of miles.
His tan Forest Service tee skimmed over his broad shoulders and muscular chest.
Everything about him was like a finely tuned weapon. My gaze went up, up, up, until it collided with hazel eyes, darker than usual, the demons swirling.
My stomach twisted. Something was wrong. I was already moving to the end of the bar, and Kol met me there. “What’s wrong?” My voice came out a little choked.
Pain flickered over Kol’s eyes as if he didn’t want to say what he was about to. “A woman went missing from a campsite by Three Creeks Canyon Trail.”
The world fell away. There was no din of conversation, no country rock wafting from the speakers, no clatter of dishes. And only specific words punched through.
Woman.
Missing.
Three Creeks Canyon Trail.
A woman like me. Vanished. And all I could wonder was if she had been taken. If, even now, there was still a monster haunting those woods—or worse, if they were walking among us.