Chapter 24 Ellie
TWENTY-FOUR
Ellie
“Ellie, this is a bad idea,” Sawyer said, trailing behind me.
The house felt suspended in time—clean but almost forgotten. I couldn't tell if someone still lived here or not. Maybe I was crazy for crossing this threshold uninvited, but recklessness had taken hold of me.
Following cryptic journal entries and breaking into someone's home should have felt insane. It probably was insane, but I wanted answers.
The front door had been unlocked, after all. That had to mean something. Was it an invitation? Or at least justifiable if anyone asked questions.
That was what I kept telling myself.
The living room was normal enough—decent furniture, just a little dated. In the kitchen, I found what I was looking for. There it was, sitting on the windowsill above the sink: a picture of Sawyer’s house and the willow tree. I glanced at Sawyer, who sighed and walked toward me.
“Shit,” I muttered. “It’s her. Where is she, though?”
His brow furrowed. “No idea.”
A car pulled up, tires crunching over gravel.
My heart stopped. “Oh my gosh.”
“Fuck,” Sawyer said.
“What do we do? We can’t just talk to her when we’re inside her home!”
“I don’t know! This was your idea!”
“Let’s run out the back,” I hissed, pointing to the door like it was some brilliant plan I’d invented.
Sawyer didn’t argue. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. We were halfway there when a voice snapped from behind us.
“What the hell!”
We bolted.
I stumbled down the back steps, adrenaline thrumming so loud, I could barely hear myself think. The backyard was muddy and uneven. I was absolutely not built for speed. Sawyer, of course, was annoyingly fast. His long legs cleared the yard in seconds.
“Seriously, Ellie?” he called, already a dozen paces ahead before doubling back.
“I’m trying! It's not my fault you have eight inches on me!”
He flashed that cocky grin even while running. “I got more than eight inches you haven't discovered yet.”
“Oh my God. Did you seriously just—” I stumbled, caught between laughing and wanting to smack him. “Now is not the time for jokes!”
But I tripped over something—a root or a pipe or maybe just my own bad decisions, and before I could hit the ground, Sawyer was there. He scooped me up like I weighed nothing, one arm under my knees, the other cradling my back as he took off running again.
“You crazy, reckless, beautiful fucking girl,” he muttered, not even winded.
I busted out laughing. I couldn’t help it. It was half hysteria, half joy, all tangled up in the thrill of being in his arms as he ran. By the time we reached his truck, my heart was thundering. He yanked the passenger door open with one hand and practically threw me inside.
“Sorry!” he shouted as I landed on the seat with a bounce. He slammed the door, sprinted around the front of the truck, and dove into the driver’s side.
Behind us, the woman rounded the corner, fury in every step. “What the hell were you doing in my house?”
Sawyer didn’t wait to answer. The engine coughed once and roared to life. In a spray of gravel and tire smoke, we peeled out of the trailer park.
We were silent for a few seconds, both of us breathing hard, the truck rattling as it sped down the uneven road. I turned around and watched the woman disappear.
Sawyer let out this sharp, choked sound—somewhere between a breath and a laugh. And I cracked.
A laugh escaped me, then another, and I was gone, completely lost to it. I pressed my palm to my forehead and smiled.
“What the actual hell just happened?” I gasped.
“You—” he started, pointing at me, eyes wide. “You walked into that house like it was yours. Like, no hesitation.”
“The door was open!”
“That doesn’t mean break and enter, you lunatic!”
“Oh, please. You followed me.”
“I had to!”
I smacked his arm. “You did not!”
“You’re not going into some random person’s house alone. Bodyguard duties are part of the deal, remember? I’d think randomly walking into someone’s home qualifies for that need!”
I wiped at my eyes, grinning so hard, my cheeks hurt. “Okay, maybe I got a little carried away.”
He shook his head, laughing as he turned onto the main road. “A little?”
There was a long beat of silence as the laughter finally settled. The wind still whipped through the tiny crack in the window. My chest ached in that good, breathless way.
“Jesus,” he murmured. “We could’ve gotten arrested.”
I opened my mouth, but then came the lights. Red and blue lit up the back window like the damn Fourth of July.
Fuck.