Chapter 26
Twenty-six
Lane
Jameson leads us out the door, his head sweeping slowly from side to side, scanning the surroundings with sharp, deliberate movements. His hand rests on a gun at his hip, one I’ve never seen him carry before.
He stops beside his Bronco and pulls the back door open. Kam climbs in first, quick and sure, but I freeze when I see a man I don’t recognize in the passenger seat.
“That’s just Jameson’s partner, Miles. He’s a bit of an asshole,” Kam says, glancing over her shoulder when she notices my hesitation.
“I’m not an asshole, Kameron,” Miles replies, using her full name like a weapon. “I just don’t think someone should voice everything that’s in their head.”
I slide across the seat, wary, the soft leather squeaking beneath me. My muscles coil tight, nerves humming under my skin.
He turns toward me, extending his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Lane,” he says, giving me a grin, dimples popping out on both sides of his full mouth.
His hair is a tousled mess of light brown. Thick brows, a few shades darker, shadow his hazel eyes. A sharp jawline, covered in stubble, gives him a hard look. I can’t see much of his build, but judging by his broad shoulders, he’s almost as big as Jameson.
Jameson slides behind the wheel, slamming the door a little harder than necessarily. The sound echoing through the cab like a gunshot. “Don’t fucking smile at her like that dickhead,” he grumbles, turning the key, the engine roaring to life.
Miles releases my hand and smirks at Jameson as he pulls onto the road. “I was just saying hi, don’t be such a caveman.”
My eyes dart around the truck, bouncing between everyone, as panic quickly overtakes my body.
“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” I demand, voice trembling.
“I’m putting a lot of trust in everyone right now, and I don’t even know who’s after me.
Did his family hire you? Was it the police? ”
“No, it’s not his family or the police. We don’t know who it is,” Jameson answers, meeting my eyes in the rear-view mirror momentarily, before focusing back on the road. “I know you have questions, and I will answer them. I promise. Just let me get you somewhere safe first.”
Too bad I no longer believe his promises.
“Why are you helping me? Why not just turn me over?” I ask, letting the questions hang in the air.
Not that his answer matters. I can’t forgive him for this.
His eyes meet mine again, steady and certain. “Because I love you, Wildflower.” His voice is low and steady, carrying a weight that makes me want to believe him. Makes me want to trust him.
I tear my eyes away, jaw tight. “You don’t get to call me that anymore.”
The ache in my chest builds, slow and steady, as I stare out the window, watching the town I love blur past in streaks of neon and streetlight. The rest of the car ride passes in silence, the hum of the engine drowning out the sound of my heart breaking.
Half an hour later, Jameson pulls beside a small jet and kills the engine. The airfield is quiet except the low rumble of the jet's turbines. Bright lights line the short runway, cutting through the night sky.
Jameson twists in his seat, the leather creaking behind his weight, too loud in the heavy silence. “You two go ahead and board. We are going to grab our bags and will be right behind you.”
I hesitate, hand hovering over the door handle. What if this is all a set up? My gut screams at me to be cautious, but what choice do I have but to trust Jameson?
Reluctantly, I step out, the cool night air ruffling my hair. Kam follows close behind, her body pressed to mine as we walk across the tarmac to the jet. I still don’t know if I should be putting my life fully in his hands.
Each step feels heavier as my legs carry me up the short set of stairs. The cabin is compact, but comfortable, with soft lighting that gives everything a warm glow. Cream leather seats line the aisle; eight of them, arranged in pairs that face each other, divided by a narrow strip of dark carpet.
Kam and I take our seats, sitting side by side, her hand latching onto mine, holding it tight. “We will get through this.” Her eyes hold mine, full of confidence I don’t feel.
I give her a small smile and nod.
Moments later, boots thud against the metal stairs. My hand tightens on the armrest as Jameson and Miles duck into the cabin. Jameson’s eyes lock with mine, and my heart squeezes, just once, at the pain I see there.
I look away, staring out the window instead. His steady footsteps echo through the small cabin, growing closer. He drops into the seat across from me, the soft leather creaking under him.
“Lane.” His voice is soft, cautious.
A tear runs down my face, but I don’t meet his gaze.
“Give her some god damn space. She will talk to you when she’s ready,” Kam spits, voice fierce.
I hear the sigh of leather as he stands, then footsteps as he moves to a seat across the aisle.
“Just give her some time.” Miles whispers.
I’m well aware that I can’t ignore him forever. Him and I definitely need to have a conversation, but I’m not ready. It’s all too fresh, too painful. The life I’ve worked so hard to build is in danger because of him.
My eyes slowly peel open, squinting against the bright morning sun. “Where are we?” I murmur, voice raw with sleep. How the hell did I end up in a car? Did I fall asleep on the jet?
I rub my eyes and peer out the window. A blue, two-story farmhouse with a wide white wraparound porch comes into view.
The rising sun casts everything in a warm, golden-orange glow.
To the right, a brown barn stands, its weathered wood scarred by time yet clearly still in use.
Trees encircle the property, giving it a sense of seclusion and privacy.
Jameson brings the car to a stop and cuts the engine. “My parents' house in Maine.”
I glance around again, spotting a black pickup and a blue SUV parked in the driveway. “Why are we at your parents’ house?” I ask, voice cautious.
He turns in his seat, his eyes dark and unwavering. “Because my stepdad can help us figure out who’s after you.”
Unease creeps up my spine and my eyes narrow into slits. “How can he help us?”
Jameson glances at Miles, who shakes his head, before turning his attention back to me. He lets out a sharp breath. “He’s a retired FBI agent.”
“What?!” Kam and I demand, our voices melting together.
I glance around, panic clawing up my throat, making my chest tighten until I feel like a caged animal. Did he set me up? Is he going to turn me in?
“Real smooth,” Miles deadpans before getting out of the car, the door slamming with a sharp thud that echoes off the windows. My eyes trail after him as he rounds the back of the car, the trunk popping open.
“Lane,” Jameson murmurs softly, drawing my attention back to him. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You are safe here. He’s going to help us find who is after you. You have my word.”
My eyes narrow, anger seeping into my veins. “Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.”
He lets out a defeated breath, his shoulders slumping. “I know you hate me right now, but please just let me make this right. Let me keep you safe.”
Can I really trust him to keep me safe after shattering my heart with his lies? The question burns in my chest, but the truth is, I don’t have much of a choice. If he’d planned to hand me over he would have already done so.
“I don’t have a choice.” My voice sharp and cold, each word cutting like ice.
His eyes flicker with pain, his voice raw with emotion. “Let’s go inside. Vic is waiting for us.” He holds my gaze for a brief moment, then slips out of the car, the door closing softly behind him.
My heart squeezes again, the look in his eyes, almost breaking my resolve. Until I remember that he lied to me. That my whole life could very well be over. Because of him.
“Are you doing okay?” Kam asks, her hand still wrapped tightly around mine.
I shake my head, holding back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Not even a little bit, but I refuse to break in front of him.”
“I’ve got you.”
Her words steady me, and I take a deep breath.
I let go of Kam’s hand, squaring my shoulder, and push the door open, stepping out to face my new reality.
The gravel crunches beneath my boots as we follow Jameson and Miles across a stone walkway to the front porch.
A man waits in the doorway, his posture relaxed and welcoming.
He looks to be in his late sixties, with brown hair that has gone mostly gray and piercing blue eyes.
He pulls Miles and Jameson into a hug as soon as they clear the top step. “I’ve missed you boys.”
Jameson steps back and looks over Vic’s shoulder into the house. “Where’s mom?”
He leads us into the house, holding the door open. “She’s away for the weekend with her friend Samantha, but she will be back tomorrow sometime.” He gives Jameson a sympathetic look. “I had to call and tell her you were coming.”
Jameson nods, his movements stiff. He gestures to me and Kam. “Vic, this is Lane and her friend Kam.”
Vic’s lips curl into a warm smile. “Nice to meet you both, though I wish it were under happier circumstances.” His gaze flicks from the bags in our hands to Miles. “Take their bags up to the Lavender Room.”
I frown; not just at the fact the room has a name, but at what that name is. Vic catches my expression and shrugs. “My wife’s doing. But it makes her happy, so who am I to say no?”
I just nod as Miles takes my bag, there’s nothing else I can do. The exhaustion, fear, and heartbreak press down on me all at once, heavy and inescapable.
Vic, noticing my state, gives me a knowing look. “Why don’t you and Kam follow Miles upstairs and get settled in? Maybe get some rest? When you wake up, we can talk about what’s going on.”
I give him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”
I turn to follow Miles up the stairs, but Jameson grabs my hand, stopping me. “Can we please talk, Wildflower?”
I pull my hand from his grip. “I told you not to call me that anymore.” I turn and follow Kam and Miles up the steps, the boards squeaking softly beneath our feet.
“Lane, please, just talk to me,” he pleads to my retreating back.
I continue up the stairs, leaving his pleas unanswered. I can’t face him right now. I’m too emotional, too angry, too everything.
“Give her some space, Son. She’s dealing with a lot right now.” I hear Vic say softly.
I manage to hold it together until Miles leaves the room. Then a strangled sob rips from my throat as I sink to the floor. The door clicks softly shut, and Kam is there beside me in an instant. Her arms wrap around me as my body shakes with loud, uncontrollable sobs.
It’s all too much.
Jameson being sent by someone to find me. Some nameless person hunting me. Leaving my town, my life, to go into hiding. Kam being pulled into this mess right alongside me.
It’s. All. Too. Fucking. Much.
And I can’t hold it in anymore.
I sob for what feels like hours or days, until I have no more tears left. Kam holds me the entire time, stroking my hair as I soak her sweatshirt.
Even if I survive this physically I don’t know that I will ever recover emotionally. My heart will never be okay again.
I loved Jameson and he hurt me.