Chapter 16 Drive It Home
DRIVE IT HOME (KANE)
The September sun warms my back as I walk down Sully Bay’s main strip with an Americano in hand that smells good enough to inhale through my nose.
Dan and Sophie are captivated by a couple street musicians.
There are three of them. One guy strums a guitar, his partner plays the accordion, and a girl belts out an emotional song with a violin tucked under her arm.
Her voice is haunting, but when Guitar Guy joins in, Sophie’s eyes start to shine.
Damn.
I might have to start worrying about her and boys sooner than I think.
Dan grins too, loving the way Accordion Man bangs a snare drum with his foot as he plays, perfectly synced.
“Super cool, Dad. Do you know how hard it is to play multiple instruments like a boss?” Dan asks.
Guitar Guy has long shaggy hair pulled back in a ponytail, and whenever he leans closer to the mic to sing, he closes his eyes.
“It’s something,” I agree, scanning to see where Margot went.
She came into town with us and ran off to the nearby craft booths to look for more info on stained glass and a safe way to pry that door open.
We figured the kids would be entertainment. They love the candied apples, too.
I couldn’t say no at the coffee shop when I saw the huge green balls on a stick slathered in caramel.
Soph bites into her half-eaten apple, smacking her lips.
I sip my coffee and goddamn, is that good.
We needed this today.
Especially with more unsolved mysteries piling up.
Even so, Margot’s taking her time, and I crane my head, trying to spot her through the swirling crowd.
A lot of older folks crowd around us, making the most of the sunny day and easy atmosphere.
The woman crooning into the mic grins at us and winks at Sophie.
Finally, I see Margot—talking with Viola Babin.
They stand like alley cats, shoulders tense, their hands locked into fists by their sides, and—
Fuck.
“Stay here,” I tell the kids, who just give me absent nods.
I trust them to listen—or at least to stay hooked on the music—as I bolt over to avert a standoff.
“—I should’ve known. Just the kind of nasty shit you expect from a Blackthorn!” Viola spits, her mouth twisted. Gone is the kind, folksy blueberry farmer, replaced with this venomous snake. “You always treated us like redneck criminals!”
“I never treated you like anything,” Margot throws back. “Your beef was with Gramps. Maybe he had a good reason to—”
“Hey,” I say sharply, grabbing Margot’s arm.
Her gaze flicks to me and she jumps, like she was expecting a physical attack.
Just seeing her this on edge makes me want to wrap her in my arms and rip Viola Babin a new mouth she can’t bitch with.
“There a problem here?” I look at Viola sharply with knives in my eyes.
“She sicced the cops on us,” Viola snarls. “Imagine, making us feel like petty criminals in our own home. People talk, y’know? And guess what they’ll say? It should be the Blackthorn brat for once getting dirty looks and whispers—not us!”
I stare at her coldly, just long enough to start melting the hatred off her face.
“If you didn’t do the break-in, then you didn’t do it. Let the evidence speak for itself,” I say flatly. “Even if you feel targeted, that gives you no damn right to go harassing Margot in public. Don’t you think she has enough going on right now with the house?”
“You think I care?” she huffs loudly.
“Clearly not. Let me give you a good reason to start caring, Viola.” I step closer, all quiet fury now.
“If you don’t start keeping your distance, then I’ll have to start getting lawyers involved.
Your shit-fight with the Blackthorns affects my family as long as we’re here.
Maybe you didn’t break in, no, but I can nail you for harassment and child endangerment.
Maybe dig up an old arson case or two while we’re at it. ”
“Arson?” Her eyes widen. “What the hell you think you’re—”
“Don’t think we don’t know. And don’t think I won’t defend Margot Blackthorn like my own if you keep this little grudge rolling. Stay away from them, and keep off the damn property, too.”
“You people are all the same,” she snarls, “thinking your fancy money and ten-dollar words solve everything.”
“Let me make myself crystal clear.” I walk closer again, and she takes an automatic step back. “I look out for good people. For folks with less than noble intentions, you don’t want to find out what I do. Understand?”
“I—”
“Simple question, Mrs. Babin. Yes or no.”
She grits her teeth, but nods, her face streaked red from holding in a thousand curses.
“Good,” I clip. “Have a blessed day.”
Without giving her another second to yap, I take Margot’s hand and lead her away.
Yes, I’m fucking erupting, but I know my girl wouldn’t want me to make more of a scene.
She stops short before we reach the kids, not ready to face them. Her eyes are too dark and disturbed in her pale face.
“I think that went well,” I joke bitterly. “You okay?”
“I’m fine, yeah. I just hate that I’ve made another enemy here—or remade an old one. Or whatever. I thought the Babins were just trying to scare me into selling the place. But if it’s someone else… I wish it was that simple.”
“Not your fault, duchess.” I grab her shoulders until she meets my gaze. “The ugliness, the refusing to accept an apology, that’s their problem. And even if they didn’t do it, it’s no surprise our minds went there, knowing the history.”
She almost smiles.
“I can’t believe she went off on me here.”
“I can. She’s got a lot of resentment toward Leonidas. Since he’s gone, she’s firing her salvos at you. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I mean, I could’ve done without the public freakout, but…” She gives a little angry laugh. “Can you believe I ever felt bad for them and wondered if we should apologize? I actually tried. For all of ten seconds before she went nuclear. God.”
“Come again?” I frown. “What do you mean, you felt bad for them?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks flush red. “The cops called yesterday and told me they didn’t do it. The boots didn’t match. Ditto for the tire tracks. I guess they had a solid alibi, too.”
What the fuck?
“You didn’t tell me?” My confusion boils into frustration.
“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t want to worry you.” She sighs, turning her face down. “With everything going on, I just thought…”
Right.
She thought I’d stress the fuck out if the Babins aren’t our culprits—and she’s right. Because that means someone else is.
“Margot.” I clasp her chin and tilt her face up. “This is the kind of shit I need to know. No excuses.”
She sighs again, leaning into me.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I just… Everyone’s been on edge lately. Including you. Especially you. I know you’ve got a lot on your mind with the kids.”
And you.
I don’t say it, but she knows.
I slide a hand around her waist, pressing her against me.
“You know I can’t protect you or the kids if I don’t know who the hell I’m protecting you from.”
“Yeah. But we don’t know anything right now. The detective was a guy from down in Bar Harbor, and he said they’ll keep looking into it. He wants to follow up on some smaller crimes outside Sully Bay. Until then, we just have to be careful.”
“Next time, you tell me if something comes up, okay?” I growl, meeting her gaze. “Even if you think it’s news that’ll ruin my day.”
“Okay.” She nods slowly. “You’re right. It was selfish to keep it to myself.”
I look at the kids. They’re still right where I left them, fixated as the musical trio launch into another song.
Blissfully oblivious to our dilemma.
Just as it should be.
If I could, I’d keep them like that forever, but we all grow up.
“Try not to worry,” I tell Margot now, noticing the lines around her eyes. “Viola Babin won’t start more shit. If she gets in your face a second time, I’ll make sure she’s behind bars.”
She shakes her head. “I dunno. It’s not worth it. It’s not even your problem, Kane.”
“I meant what I said. I protect the people I care about, whatever the cost.” That absolutely means Margot Blackthorn too.
I’m not afraid if she knows it.
I also don’t care if she knows how precious she’s become.
“Easier said than done. I don’t want you having to back that up,” she mutters. A small smile pulls at her lips.
“Trust me.” I swipe my thumb across her jaw. “While I’m around, you let me do the worrying for both of us.”
I realize my mistake the second I say it.
While I’m around.
She straightens and turns away from me.
I hate how accurate that is.
She might be safe for as long as I’m here, yeah—but that isn’t long enough.
Less than a week to go.
Less than seven days before we’re back home, separated with nothing but ashes of kisses and dead promises.
“Right. Well, thanks for the reminder. I appreciate everything you do.”
“Margot,” I start, but she’s already shaking her head.
“It’s cool. We both know it’s coming eventually. I mean, neither of us live here. We can’t turn everything upside down for… for this.” Her throat ticks as she swallows.
Now isn’t the time.
There are people swarming around.
Still, I see the way she’s closing off, reverting back to the pretty, remote woman I first met, before she softened up and showed me the person inside.
Less than a week.
Less than a fucking week.
One day at a time, though.
While I’m here, I’ll damn sure make the most of our time, even if I have to spend it keeping her safe.
I hate that she might have to stay longer, just to make sure the place doesn’t burn down mysteriously.
Maybe I can figure out some workaround.
She doesn’t even have to tell me that’s what she’ll do if it comes down to it. But with the kids, I can’t risk staying much longer.
I can’t be her personal shield when I have a family and handing them off to my mother only works for so long.
But leaving her alone, without worrying about her here?
Fucking impossible.
With the pissy way the Babins keep acting, I don’t trust them not to do something, no matter what the police said.
“Shit,” I whisper, taking her wrists, pulling her into me again.
She doesn’t ask what I mean.