CHAPTER 76 – ANTONIO
I press myself tighter against Caspian.
“Do you want me to throw him out?” he asks, his voice a reassuring murmur in my ear.
I feel the familiar signs of anxiety gripping me, but Caspian’s presence feels stronger. I let his body anchor mine.
“It’s fine,” I whisper. “At least for now. I want to see what happens.”
“Everyone, positions!” Becky hisses.
Ryan stops by the counter and tips an imaginary hat.
Nothing in his demeanor suggests he’s a bully.
For a second, I worry that no one will believe me. That it will go like it
always does, and Ryan will somehow convince everyone I’m lying.
I turn my head slightly so my cheek rests against Caspian’s chest. His heart beats steadily under my ear, telling me it’s okay. Then I realize it is okay. It actually is. I know what happened. I know the truth. I know I wasn’t asking for it.
Ryan hasn’t spotted us yet.
“I’m Ryan Rutherford. I just wanted to stop by and say hello,” he says pleasantly to Dorothy, who’s standing behind the till. “I’ve been house-hunting.”
“What? House-hunting, you said? Oh my gosh, you caught me completely off guard!” Dorothy says, her voice unnaturally loud.
Ryan blinks.
“Did you hear that sound?” Delilah asks, equally loudly. “It was my jaw hitting the ground!”
Becky sighs.
Earl takes a step toward Ryan. His owl has materialized in his lap, and Earl strokes its wing.
“This is Bob,” he says, beaming with pride. He thrusts the bird closer to Ryan, who takes a step back. “Bob used to be a bully.”
“Wh—what?” Ryan stammers.
Earl’s sincere smile is the most terrifying thing in the room.
“Don’t worry,” he says kindly. “His skin was removed very gently.”
Ryan pales. Honestly, I think everyone pales. I wonder how well this town even knows Earl.
“We have a motto!” Steve announces so loudly he’s almost shouting. “Die another day!”
“That’s a Bond movie,” Ann-Sabrina groans. “Not a motto.”
“Really? Not sure I’ve seen that one,” Steve says.
Maija steps forward.
”In Finland, we welcome guests into the sauna.”
A pause. A calm sip of coffee.
“Bullies always burn.”
Ryan tries to laugh, but it dries up in his throat.
“Is that a threat?”
Maija smiles broadly. I didn’t know her face could do that. It’s deeply unsettling.
“Only if you’re a bully. Are you a bully, Mr. Rutherford?”
Ugly red blotches crawl across Ryan’s cheeks.
“Fun fact,” Eliot offers. “Men who rely on intimidation often underestimate community response.”
Juniper kisses him.
“My husband is so clever.”
Eliot beams.
“Another fun fact is that men named Ryan have a statistically elevated risk of death by hubris,” he continues.
“No one dies of pride,” Ryan snaps, but he’s sweating now.
“That’s what late Ryan Diddle-Swaddle used to say.”
Ryan turns for the door.
J?rgen is there. For a man as big as he is, he has entered very stealthily.
“I carve coffins,” he says, crossing his massive arms. “I offer a discount to
people who plan ahead.” He looks Ryan up and down. “Five feet nine inches?”
“I’m not—I’m buying a house, not a coffin!” Ryan sputters.
“The Finns plan funerals for fun,” Maija comments.
She tilts her head.
“What’s your favorite hymn, Mr. Rutherford? I personally like “Those Who Mock Shall Melt”—but if you want something less cheerful, “The Gentle Roasting of the Wicked” could suit you.”
Ryan makes a choked sound and spins.
That’s when he spots me.
His eyes bulge, his gaze flicking from me to Caspian’s arms tightening around me.
And I see it.
The confusion. The frantic rearranging of a story he thought he had figured out . In Ryan’s narrative, I’m alone. I’m the easy target—small, anxious, friendless.
No one stood behind me.
No one objected.
Until now.
And suddenly his story doesn’t work anymore.
Caspian—whose name Ryan used to say with respect, whose name stands for status and power—is holding me like I’m the only thing in the world worth holding.
And all around us, Baywood stands shoulder to shoulder.
This town would help me bury a body, and Ryan is finally realizing he’s the only one without a shovel.
His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. For once, he has no script.
I clear my throat, drawing courage from Caspian’s arms around me.
“Relax,” I say, surprised by how steady I sound. “You always get so worked up, Ryan.”
Throwing his own words back at him feels enormous. Monumental.
Caspian kisses my temple. “You make me so damn proud,” he whispers.
Ryan looks like he might faint.
Then Dorothy and Delilah step in front of him, glowing with glitter and grace.
“You will never be welcome in this town, Mr. Rutherford,” Delilah says.
“We protect our own with everything we’ve got,” Dorothy continues. “And this?”
They gesture around the coffee shop, where everyone is staring at Ryan with nothing but contempt on their faces.
“This was just a preview.”
Disbelief and fear flicker across Ryan’s face when he looks at me one more time.
Then he bolts.
The bell jingles.
“Ding-dong,” Ann-Sabrina cackles.
Suddenly I’m so exhausted I can hardly stand, but Caspian’s got me.
He won’t let me fall.
“We’ll go home now,” he says. “Thank you, Baywood Justice Squad.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Thank you.”
Steve wipes his eyes.
“It was an honor.”