13. Sunny
THIRTEEN
SUNNY
The small hotel room on the outskirts of Timber Creek feels like a cage wrapped in faded wallpaper and the stale smell of old cigarettes and cheap cleaner.
The carpet under my boots is scratchy and worn thin in spots, the kind that makes my skin crawl every time I shift my weight.
My wrists ache from the rough rope Derek used to tie me to the rickety wooden chair, the fibers biting into my skin with every tiny movement.
The single bulb overhead flickers weakly, casting ugly yellow shadows across the threadbare bedspread and the cracked mirror on the wall.
Outside the thin curtains, I can hear the distant hum of highway traffic and the occasional gust of wind rattling the windowpane, carrying the faint scent of exhaust and pine from the nearby trees.
I’m so afraid. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since Derek dragged me away from that snowy field, the memory of Harlan crumpling in the snow playing over and over in my mind like a nightmare I can’t wake up from.
The metallic smell of his blood still lingers in my nose, sharp and terrifying.
Is he okay? Is he alive? The thought that he might be gone, my strong grumpy cowboy lying cold in the snow, makes fresh tears burn behind my eyes.
No. I can’t let myself think like that. He’s tough.
He’s my Daddy. He promised he’d always keep me safe.
He has to be fighting to get back to me right now.
Derek paces in front of me, his blond hair messy and his eyes wild with that possessive gleam I remember too well from Colorado.
His boots thud heavily on the thin carpet, and every step sends a puff of dust into the air that makes me want to sneeze.
He smells like cheap cologne and sweat and the anger that always seemed to roll off him in waves.
The gun he used on Harlan is tucked into his waistband, the metal glinting coldly under the flickering light.
"You and me, Sunny," he says for the hundredth time, his voice slick and insistent as he stops in front of my chair. "We’re meant to be together. I told you that from the beginning. You ran because you got scared, but I forgive you. I always forgive you. That mountain trash back there? He doesn’t know you like I do. He can’t take care of you the way I can. "
I shake my head, my golden hair falling into my face in tangled strands that stick to my tear-damp cheeks.
The rope burns deeper into my wrists as I tug against it, the rough texture scraping my skin raw.
"You shot him, Derek. You hurt the man I love. He’s good.
He makes me breakfast and holds me when I’m scared and calls me his sunshine.
He keeps me safe in ways you never could. "
Derek laughs, that ugly sharp sound that used to make me flinch.
He crouches down in front of me, his face too close, his breath hot and sour against my skin.
His fingers grab my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him.
His touch feels wrong, nothing like Harlan's rough but gentle hands that make me feel cherished.
"You always were a dreamer with your stupid fucking ideas. But I’m your reality, baby.
I tracked you across states because we belong together. No one else gets to have you."
Tears spill down my cheeks again, hot and salty as they drip onto my lap.
The room feels smaller, the air thicker with the smell of his cologne and my fear.
I can still feel the cold wind from the field whipping across my face, hear Harlan's weak voice calling my name.
The memory of his strong arms around me last night, the way he moved inside me so deep and perfect while whispering that I was his good girl, makes my chest ache with longing.
I want him back. I need my grumpy cowboy.
The one who turned my world from running and hiding into something bright and safe and full of hope.
"Please," I whisper, my voice cracking in that quirky way that usually makes Harlan smile. "Just let me go. Let me check on him. I can’t lose him. He is everything good in my life now."
Derek's grip tightens on my chin, his blue eyes narrowing. "You will forget about him. We are leaving tonight. Starting over somewhere new. You will see. I am the one who loves you enough to chase you across the country."
I close my eyes, trying to block him out.
Instead I picture Harlan's cabin. The warm scent of coffee and pancakes in the morning.
The way his flannel shirts swallowed me whole and smelled like pine and safety.
The charged electricity between us every time our knees brushed under the table.
The way he held me through the storm, his low voice promising everything would be okay.
I love him so much it hurts. He gave me a family at Haven 7.
He showed me what it means to have a Daddy who protects you instead of controls you.
The minutes stretch into what feels like hours.
Derek keeps talking, pacing and ranting about our supposed destiny, but his words blur into noise.
My shoulders ache from the awkward position, my throat is raw from earlier screaming, and the cold from the field still lingers in my bones.
Every creak in the hallway makes my heart jump, hoping it’s help, fearing it’s something worse.
Then it happens.
A loud crash explodes through the room as the door bursts open, wood splintering with a sharp crack.
The sound is deafening, sending splinters flying across the carpet.
Bright lights flood in from the hallway, blinding after the dim bulb.
Men pour through the broken doorway, voices shouting commands that cut through the air like thunder.
"Hands up! Timber Creek Sheriff! Don’t move!"
I recognize Silas's voice immediately, strong and authoritative. Then more familiar faces. Boyd. Rhett. Thorne. Wyatt. Gavin. Eli. Rafe. Chase. The men of Haven 7, rugged and determined, filling the small room with their presence. The air shifts instantly, charged with power and purpose instead of fear. Derek spins around, reaching for his gun, but Boyd is faster, tackling him to the ground with a heavy thud that shakes the floor. Handcuffs click loudly. Derek curses and struggles, but it’s useless against the sheer force of the men surrounding him.
"Sunny!" Harlan's voice cuts through everything else, rough and full of that protective gravel I love so much.
I turn my head and there he is, pushing through the chaos despite the bandage visible under his torn flannel.
His shoulder’s wrapped tight, blood still seeping through in places, but he’s standing.
Alive. Moving toward me with that determined stride that makes my heart soar.
His face is pale, lines of pain etched deep, but his eyes lock on mine with fierce love and relief.
"Harlan," I sob, the word breaking free as tears pour down my face. The rope around my wrists feels tighter now, but I don’t care. He’s here. My grumpy cowboy mountain man came for me.
Harlan drops to his knees in front of my chair, his rough hands gentle as they work the knots loose.
The feel of his callused fingers brushing my skin sends sparks through me even now, that familiar charged chemistry flaring bright between us.
The rope falls away and I throw myself into his arms, burying my face in his neck.
He smells like blood and sweat and pine and home.
His good arm wraps around me tight, pulling me against his solid chest where I can feel his heartbeat thundering strong and steady.
"I’ve got you, sunshine," he murmurs into my hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve got you. It’s over."
I cling to him, sobbing against his flannel as the scent of him fills my lungs.
His body’s warm despite the injury, solid and real.
I can feel the slight tremble in his muscles from pain and relief, but he holds me like I’m the most precious thing in the world.
The room around us fades. Derek's shouts as they drag him away become distant noise.
All that matters is Harlan's arms, his breath warm against my ear, his hand stroking my back in slow soothing circles.
"You’re alive," I whisper, my voice muffled against his chest. "I was so scared. I thought... I thought I lost you. The blood in the snow... it was everywhere."
He pulls back just enough to cup my face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away my tears. His touch is rough but tender, his dark eyes blazing with that protective fire I fell in love with. "Took more than one bullet to keep me from you, baby. I promised I would keep you safe. I meant it."
I rise up on my knees and kiss him right there on the dirty hotel floor, pouring every ounce of fear and love and relief into it.
His mouth tastes like salt and determination, his stubble scraping my chin in that delicious way that always makes me shiver.
The kiss is deep and charged, full of the on-fire chemistry that has burned between us since the beginning.
His good hand threads into my hair, tilting my head so he can claim me completely, and I melt against him like I always do.
When we finally pull apart, both breathing hard, the room has cleared somewhat. Silas stands nearby, giving us space but nodding with satisfaction. "Derek’s in custody. He won’t bother you again."
Harlan helps me to my feet, his arm staying wrapped securely around my waist. My legs feel shaky, but with him beside me I feel steady.
The men of Haven 7 surround us, their rugged faces warm with relief and brotherhood.
Boyd claps Harlan on his good shoulder gently.
Wyatt gives me a small smile. They all came for me.
For us. This incredible found family on Wedding Cake Mountain.