Chapter Thirty-two
Kenna
I can still feel the kiss lingering on my lips.
Even in what seemed like my darkest hour, his touch grounded me.
Which is why I’m so grateful for his offer to stay at the cabin.
I don’t understand it, but I’m grateful for it.
I still wonder why he’s doing all this. He barely knows me.
I could be anyone. A liar. A criminal. A kidnapper.
For some reason, he trusts me. And I’m beginning to trust him more than I’ve trusted anyone. Maybe more than I should based on past experiences. But he’s shown time and time again, this isn’t the same, and he isn’t them.
I’m grateful Amelia has fallen asleep in the back seat, because Carter wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to make sure we weren’t followed.
We wound through town three times, headed toward the city, then doubled back before taking back roads up north.
Thankfully, all the snow has been plowed, leaving large piles lining the streets, but the roads clear and passable.
And even though I’m fairly sure we haven’t been followed, I drive the entire way with one eye on the rearview mirror as I follow Carter down the winding roads.
More than ninety minutes after leaving his house, we’re pulling up to a cabin. It’s small and a bit dilapidated, but Carter was right, nobody will find us here. For that reason alone, I already love the place.
I park my car next to his and get out, zipping up my coat as the cold wind swirls around me.
I eye the frozen lake out front. The snow-covered trees lining the sides of the property.
The icicles hanging off the roof. But the lane leading from the road up to the steps is clear.
“How did this get plowed? It’s so remote here. ”
“We contract with a service to plow when there’s more than four inches. We also have a caretaker who comes around every few weeks to make sure the power is still on and trees haven’t fallen and things like that.”
“Good thing,” I say, scanning both sides of what I think is a gravel driveway, studying the feet-high mounds of snow. “Because we’d never have gotten in here without having four-wheel drive.”
He opens the back door and pulls a sleepy Amelia from her car seat. Her head slumps on his shoulder as he carries her inside. She wakes up when he sets her on the couch.
She yawns. “Are we here?”
In the car, before she fell asleep, I gave her the abridged version of what was happening.
That we weren’t going to Florida… yet… but to a log cabin in the woods.
She was still sad to be leaving Calloway Creek, but she was happy we’d only be an hour away from everyone she’d come to love over the past weeks.
“Sorry it’s so cold,” Carter says, adjusting the thermostat. “We turn the heat way down when nobody is here. I’ll start a fire.”
“Why is there a fish on the wall?” Amelia asks.
It’s now that I take a really good look around. Not only is there a fish, but fishing poles of various sizes are lining one wall, and a massive set of antlers hang over the fireplace.
The main room is a pretty good size. The kitchen area is larger than what we had in Carter’s basement, with a full-size, yet ancient model refrigerator, a microwave, and a small oven. The table that seats four looks like it might have been handcrafted from fallen trees.
“This is a fishing cabin,” Carter explains. He points to a fishing pole. “See these? When the lake isn’t frozen over, you can catch fish and eat them for dinner.”
“Yucky.”
“What are you talking about, yucky?” I say. “You eat fish.”
“Not from a lake.”
“Where do you think fish come from?”
“The store.”
Carter and I both laugh, and a little more of the tension that’s been creeping in again leaves my shoulders.
The cabin is warming quickly, mostly due to the blazing fire. Despite the testosterone-heavy vibe of the cabin, I think I’m going to like it here. It’s cozy. Quaint. But mostly, I like it because it feels safe. Still, we can’t stay here forever. Something will have to give. But what?
“Will you be good here for a little while? I need to get over to Bart’s before it closes.”
“Bart’s?”
“It’s a mom-and-pop grocery store a few miles from here, the only one around. There isn’t much to eat in the cabin other than some canned food.”
“I’m sure whatever you have will be fine. I can go shopping tomorrow.”
He shakes his head. “I really don’t think you should leave the cabin.”
“Then why bring my car?”
“So it wouldn’t be in Calloway Creek. With all the street cameras, it wouldn’t be that hard to track down a license plate, especially if he has all the resources you say he does.”
“So we’re stuck here.” I sigh. “For how long?”
“As long as it takes. I told you I’m keeping you safe. Now stay here and warm up. I’ll get food and then fetch your things.”
I watch as he bundles up and heads for the door, wanting to ask him once again why he’s going through all the trouble. But his words echo in my head. ‘If you are so blind that you can’t see how things are between us, then you’re not half as smart as I’ve given you credit for.’
What does that mean exactly—how things are between us? How are they?
I know how I feel. Despite trying to keep it from happening, I’ve fallen for him, and fallen hard. Could the same have happened for him? Or is he simply playing the part of knight in shining armor to my damsel in distress?
But for the hundredth time, I can’t help wondering how he would feel if he found out I’m not in as much distress as he imagines. That my issues don’t carry nearly the weight he thinks they do. That I’ve lied to him.
I’m not stupid. I know he thinks I’m running from an abusive ex.
Even though I told him that wasn’t the case, if I look at it from Carter’s point of view, it’s the only thing that makes sense.
And now he’s met Cyrus in person. He’s seen what lengths he’s gone to in order to find me.
And he’s scared. I could see it the second I told him who showed up on his doorstep.
To pass the time, Amelia and I explore the cabin. I chuckle at the ridiculous bedspread. Fish and beer cans. Who sells this kind of bedding? I imagine Mia doesn’t frequent this place. It’s a bachelor pad if I’ve ever seen one.
Having stripped the bed and started a load of laundry in the small, stacked washer and dryer in the kitchen, I find a nighttime snack of semi-stale crackers for Amelia. She never got one at Carter’s thanks to Cyrus’s untimely appearance.
By the time Carter returns, Amelia is asleep on the still-unmade bed, wrapped in her favorite blanket, Horton at her side. I close the door to the bedroom so we won’t wake her.
My eyes go wide at all the bags of food Carter puts on the counter.
I cock my head. “Just what army do you think you’re feeding?”
He shrugs and goes back outside, coming in moments later with our suitcases. Then he disappears again to retrieve the boxes from my car. “Can I help you unload?”
I check the time. “You need to get back to Christian. It’s late and he’ll be worried.”
“I’ve been checking in with him. He’s fine. I need to get you settled.”
I sweep my arm around the room, at the food, our stuff. “You’ve done enough for one day, don’t you think?”
I expect him to leave, but he sits on the couch. “Kenna, we need to talk about Cyrus.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
It’s a stupid thing to say, because we both know it’s a bald-faced lie.
“Okay, listen. I don’t know why he’s after you.
In my head, I’m thinking the worst things.
Things like he hurt you or Amelia, or that he would do the unimaginable to either of you in order to pay off his debt.
Things that involve the word trafficking.
Things that make me want to hunt him down and make sure he can never get to you.
I might even consider it if I didn’t have Christian. ”
Christian. Oh, my God, Christian! “Carter, you need to protect Chistian. And yourself, for that matter. Just by helping me you may be putting yourself in harm’s way.”
“You think it would come to that?”
“I’m not sure what he’s capable of, but do you really want to take that chance?”
He gets out his phone, calls his son, and tells him to go next door until he gets home. A modicum of relief settles in. At least he trusts me enough to validate my fears. That, or Cyrus showing up scared him more than I’d like to think about.
“Okay, so I won’t leave Christian alone at the house until this is resolved.
If he can’t go next door after school, he can come to the shop.
And my siblings are always there for him, twenty-four seven.
But Kenna, we need to be smart about this.
Is there anything you can tell me about Cyrus?
Something we can take to the police? Build a harassment case? ”
I feel bad that he’s thinking all these things. Guilt eats away at me knowing he’s torn up inside, and all because I’m too scared to reveal my true circumstances. “I told you before, going to the police is pointless.”
“There must be something, though. You worked for the guy as his assistant. You must’ve had access to information about him. Emails? Maybe things you didn’t think were pertinent then but are.”
“I wasn’t privy to sensitive information. He even did his own billing.”
“Just think about it. Even the smallest detail could be important. We can talk more when I come back. Or if you come up with anything, you can text or call me.”
I lift a brow. “You’re coming back?”
He grins and tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers tickling my neck. “Did you think I was just going to dump you in my cabin in the woods and leave you to fend for yourself?”
I motion to all the food. “I’d hardly be fending. You’ve set us up pretty nicely. And speaking of that…” I reach for my purse. “What do I owe you for the food?”
“Don’t worry about it. And I’m not going to abandon you here. I’ll come back tomorrow after work.”
“Carter, you shouldn’t do that. You have Christian.” I pull a few hundred dollars from my wallet. “Here.”
He pushes my hand away. “Stop giving me money, Kenna.”
I lean over and tuck the bills into his front pocket. This amuses him.
“Well, this might be fun,” he jokes, glancing at my purse. “How much more do you have in there?”
I roll my eyes and laugh.
“Seriously, Kenna, I don’t want your money. There’s already a pile on my counter I’m never going to touch.” He hesitates. “But I have to ask… did you rob a bank or, I don’t know, run some sort of money laundering scheme? It’s okay, you can tell me. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not a criminal, Carter.”
“Phew.” He mocks relief.
I gesture to his pocket. “Put it in Christian’s college fund. I’m not your charity case.”
“I never said you were.”
“Then quit treating me like one and take the money.”
He holds up his hands. “Fine.”
“And don’t come back tomorrow. You have a son. And a business to run. And siblings who are worried about that business.” I look up at the antlers. “Speaking of your siblings, doesn’t Mia ever come here? Between those hideous things and the ridiculous bedspread, I can’t imagine.”
“Mia’s not big on fishing. And don’t knock the bedspread. I love that thing.” He looks around. “I love this cabin.” He sighs. “This place holds some of the only good memories of my childhood. Which is why it bums me out that tomorrow when I meet with the others, I’m going to suggest we sell it.”
“Sell it? Really?”
He nods sadly. “I thought about it the whole way here. It’s ludicrous to hang onto it when we have the balloon payment looming over our heads.”
“There’s got to be some other way. If you love this place, you should keep it.”
“I don’t think it’s possible. Even with the proceeds, we’ll come up short.
We knew the payment was coming due, but we were foolish.
We thought we’d be able to save more this year, but with how it’s looking now, we’ll be refinancing for sure.
” He leans forward, forearms on his knees, staring at the old wood floor covered by an area rug with, you guessed it, fish on it.
“It’s not the end of the world, but damn it, we were really counting on owning the shop outright and then starting to realize all the profits.
I was going to be able to save for Christian’s education.
Now… I don’t know. He might have to settle for going to the local college in Calloway Creek. ”
There’s a college in Calloway Creek? Oh, right. I recall Mia saying she met a grad student. I wonder if they offer personal finance courses. My brain gets way ahead of me when I think how nice it would be to finally earn a degree.
“How much is your payment, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Two hundred fifty thousand, give or take. Selling the cabin might only get us a bit more than half of that, but it’s something. The four of us have been living on shoestring budgets for months since we found out that other shop was coming to town.”
“Which is exactly why you need to stop refusing my money.”
He laughs and nods to my purse. “Unless you’re Mary Poppins and there’s an endless well of cash in there, it won’t do much good.”
I close my eyes and swallow. Because… dang… he has no idea.
I put a hand on his back, trying to be a soothing presence for him. It’s clear the thought of selling this place is distressing. “Don’t go putting a for sale sign out just yet.”
He looks into my eyes. “Not a chance. Not as long as you’re here. But later… yeah, it might have to happen.” He closes his eyes. “Damn it.”
“Carter, you should go. It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, okay.” He stands hesitantly.
“We’ll be fine. Seriously. I promise to call if I need anything. But I won’t. You’ve thought of everything. Thank you.”
He pulls me to him, wrapping me in a hug. “Promise you’ll be here when I get back. Promise you won’t go running off to Florida. Swear to me you’ll tell me before you—”
I put my finger to his lips. “I’m not going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”
He nips my finger then smiles deviously. “Good. Because you see that fire over there? The next time I’m here, I’m going to make love to you in front of it.”
My insides melt like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. But then I look at the door my daughter is sleeping behind and know it can’t happen.
He must read my mind. “You just leave that to me. Believe me—it’s going to happen.” He nibbles on my earlobe. “That’s one promise I intend to keep no matter what.” He cups my chin. “Until then…”
His lips brush against mine. Softly at first, then more demanding. And just like when he kissed me before leaving his house, I get lost in his lips. His touch. His presence. Him.
And I know I’ll be keeping the promise I made as well. The one about not leaving. Because I also thought of a lot of things on the way here. Mostly about how I can no longer imagine a life without him in it.
And if that’s a life I want, I may have to make sacrifices. Hard decisions. But maybe, just maybe, I’m willing to give up everything for the man who asks for nothing.