Chapter 18
“Oh my God!” my mother cries, dancing around the living room.
I grin and tighten my grip on Travis’s hand.
“I can’t believe we saw that on the news, you could have told us it was tonight!” Chief grumbles.
“Wait, you didn’t ask Chief for permission?” I question Travis, lightly.
He grins. “Course I did, baby. He just didn’t know when it was going to happen.”
“Oh, it’s all so romantic. I want to watch it over and over and over...” Mom sighs.
Chief grunts. “Alright, woman, calm down.”
“Why can’t you do something romantic like that, Caden?”
He snorts. “Do you want me to do it again? I can get down on one knee now, Angel, so I will.”
“Yes, and I want a ring and roses and...”
“Always were hard to please!” he teases.
“Was not,” she retorts, hands on her hips.
He flashes her a grin. “Was too.”
I laugh. “Alright, you two!”
“A baby, a wedding...” Mom hugs me, and I can feel her heart pounding purely from excitement.
“Wedding after the baby,” I say. “I need to get skinny for my wedding dress and this belly is only going to grow.”
“Oh darn, but you’re right. My grandbaby first.”
“We are getting married first anyway, can’t give you all the fun, kid,” Chief winks.
Mom turns to him. “Yes! We should.”
“What’s stopping us?” he murmurs, sliding a hand down her cheek. “You name the date, I’ll be there.”
“Let’s do it next month then!”
I laugh and Travis chuckles.
“Done.”
She cries out with pure happiness and leaps on him. “Oh, Caden, see, you can be romantic!”
Another grunt.
I roll my eyes. “Well, now you’ve stolen the spotlight, father...”
He grins. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”
“Good on you, Travis,” Mom turns to him, hugging him tight. “I knew one day you would make her yours.”
He laughs. “Well, the baby wasn’t planned but I had to give her a reason to say yes.”
I nudge him with my shoulder. “I would’ve totally said yes anyway.”
He winks at me. “I know, baby.”
“Anyway, now I am pregnant, I need sleep. I can’t party all night like I used to,” I announce.
“Get used to no sleep, kid, you’ve got years ahead,” Chief throws at me with a shit-eating grin.
“Thank you, Dad. Always saying the right thing at the right time.”
“You’re welcome. Seriously, though, I’m proud of you, Mischief.”
My heart feels warm. “Thanks, old man.”
His eyes swing to Trav. “You take good care of my baby and her baby, Travis.”
“You got it.”
“Come back tomorrow so we can organize my wedding and talk babies.” Mom beams at me.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face, so happy to see her radiant and glowing.
Just as we are about to leave, Jasmine walks in. She rushes over, grabs my hand and lifts it. “I had to see it up close! That was so epic!”
“It was!” I grin.
“I can’t believe he did that on stage—oh, where can I find one?”
Travis snorts and I laugh. “I think Marcus is free.”
Jasmine grins. “Oh yeah?”
“Over my dead fucking body,” Chief snaps.
“Oh, poo! You always ruin my fun,” she teases.
He shoots her a look; she gives it right back.
“Mom and Chief are getting married next month,” I tell her. “They just decided.”
Jasmine turns to them. “Congrats, you two, that is awesome.”
“I need two bridesmaids,” Mom says.
Jasmine looks touched and her eyes water. My chest warms. Mom doesn’t have to care for Jasmine, but she does. She loves Chief, and that means she loves Jasmine. That’s just the kind of person she is.
“Big, ugly green dresses for us,” I joke.
Mom scoffs. “Hey, give your old mom some credit—I have good taste.”
“We trust you,” I say, hugging her one more time. “I’m off to bed. Love you guys.”
They hug me, then Travis and I leave. Back at his place, he pins me against the wall and kisses me. “Best night of my life.”
I smile. “Mine too.”
“Hey, what’s that?” he says, letting me go. There’s an envelope on the carpet by the door. He picks it up, opens it, and his face goes pale.
“What is it?” I ask, taking it from him.
I read the handwriting and my heart seizes. Shivers ripple across my skin, and my hand flies to my mouth. Another note from his obsessed stalker.
I told you, I warned you, but you didn’t listen. I won’t ask again. Watch your back, Violet, because you may just find a knife in it.
“We need to call the police,” I say, my voice thick. “This is too close to home now. Something needs to be done.”
He nods and pulls out his phone and dials them. He has already made a report, but this time, he isn’t messing around. Both of us don’t feel right about these notes, and it is beginning to scare me. What if there is someone out there, just waiting to hurt me and it isn’t just an obsessed fan?
An hour later the police arrive, ask a heap of questions and examine the note.
On their way out, an officer stops in front of us.
“It’s hard in these situations to know who’s behind it.
Travis is a rockstar, and unfortunately this happens often.
We’ll check fingerprints, security, phone records at Phoenix Records, but can’t promise anything.
If anything comes up, call us immediately.
I recommend you stay with family as much as possible until we can figure out what is going on. ”
When they’re gone, I turn to Travis. “Are you sure you don’t know who this is?”
“No, I truly don’t, but I am going to be paying a lot more attention moving forward. I’m going to call Chief tomorrow and get eyes on our house at all times. The club will cover us. I’ll figure this out, baby. I promise you.”
I put a hand on my stomach. “We have so much to lose now.”
He glances down, then back to me. “I won’t be losing fucking anything. I will find who is doing this, and I will stop it.”
I hope so.
Because if whoever this is gets to me first, things could go very bad.
“Ohhhhh,” I groan, leaning against the kitchen counter, my eyes locked on the stack of golden-brown pancakes sizzling in the cast-iron skillet. The sweet smell of melted butter and maple syrup drifts up, but all I taste is something that resembles metallic blood.
Travis stands at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping each pancake.
We decided to come have breakfast at Chief’s, because we didn’t have any eggs or flour, and I didn’t feel like going to the store.
This was our compromise, and I’m glad, because my mom is here and she always knows how to make me feel better when I am fighting this hard to keep the contents of my stomach down.
Travis chuckles at my pitiful groans. “Poor baby,” he teases, turning with a grin. “Being pregnant really sucks, huh?”
I fold my arms across my chest, the waistband of my leggings pressing against my already swollen belly.
“That’s an understatement,” I mutter, my voice thick with fatigue.
He offers me one of the pancakes on his spatula. I shoot him a half-hearted glare.
“You wanted them ten minutes ago,” he prompts. “You sure you don’t want to try some?”
“Who I was ten minutes ago isn’t who I am now,” I huff.
He laughs.
A sudden commotion breaks through the peace.
Raised voices and footsteps on the porch.
I glance at Travis, and his brows go up.
Chief’s deep voice carries through the front door, followed by another voice I don’t recognize.
Whoever is out there has got Chief unhappy.
We make our way out of the kitchen door and step out into the morning air.
The porch is wide and wooden, its planks bleached by years of sun.
Chief stands rigid at the top of the steps, his broad shoulders squared, facing an older couple—Lillian and Jeremy’s parents.
I haven’t seen them in a very long time.
My heart seizes.
I stiffen, my breath catching in my throat when their gazes meet mine. Janette’s lips tremble and Peter’s hands are clenched at his sides. Chief’s voice rumbles again, telling them to get the fuck off his property.
“Please,” Janette murmurs, voice barely above a whisper. “We want to speak with her.”
“Your son fucked up her life,” Chief snaps, voice low and threatening. “Don’t you dare step inside and make it worse.”
Peter swallows. His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “We aren’t here to ruin it, please, Caden.”
Chief’s jaw tightens. “That’s my daughter, Janette. She doesn’t need this.”
“It’s okay,” I say, my voice small but firm.
Blood drums in my ears as I step down the stairs. My legs wobble. Chief spins, eyes blazing with concern. “Mischief, you don’t have to do this.”
“I do,” I answer, my tone quiet but unwavering.
Travis descends the steps beside me. He stares at Janette and Peter, his gaze hard. “Why are you here?”
Janette hesitates but straightens her shoulders. “We wanted to talk with her. It won’t take a moment.”
“Whatever you have to say, she doesn’t want to hear,” he barks. “She doesn’t need that guilt shoved into her heart again.”
“We’re not here for that,” Janette explains.
I press my hand against his arm. “It’s okay,” I whisper.
He turns, staring at me, confusion flickering. “Mischief...”
“It’s okay,” I repeat. “Let them talk.”
Chief casts an angry glance between me and the visitors, then reluctantly turns and follows Travis back up the porch steps. The wooden boards creak beneath their weight as they stand, not leaving, but giving us enough space. I turn, knees trembling, and watch Janette and Peter step forward.
“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice rough and unsteady.
Janette takes a deep breath and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Peter shifts, clenching and unclenching his fists. He sighs, heavy with regret. “We wanted to talk to you, we have for a long time but... it isn’t easy.”
“What do you want to say?”
Janette rubs her hands over her upper arms. “We know what Jeremy did to you,” she says quietly, voice tinged with shame. “For the first year, we hated you for it. We blamed you for him taking his own life.”
My throat tightens. I keep my face still, though my heart hammers against my ribs. I dare not let tears fall.
“Then,” she continues, voice raw, “we started seeking help. We went to therapy and support groups. We realized some things—we had to face the truth about our son. I had to come and speak to you, Violet, because I know what you’ve lived with, and I believe we’re the only ones who can ease some of your pain. ”
Anger swells in my chest. “I don’t expect your pity,” I say, heat in my voice. “What happened to Lillian was my fault and I have always taken that guilt, I always will.”
Peter’s face tightens. He leans forward, voice full of regret.
“No. It wasn’t.” He takes a steadying breath, fighting every emotion on his face.
“When Lillian died, I was a raw, irrational parent speaking. I was grieving, and I needed someone to blame. Violet, what happened with Lillian wasn’t your fault.
Yes, you teased her, but friends tease each other all the time.
She chose to take it further. What happened was a tragic accident between two kids. ”
A stray tear escapes down my cheek. I swallow, taste salt on my lips.
Janette reaches toward me, but stops short, keeping her distance as she gathers courage.
“And we want you to know, we don’t blame you.
How could we? It isn’t fair. It isn’t right.
Jeremy struggled long before Lillian died.
We denied it. We tried to find a cause, someone or something to blame for his actions.
But the truth is, Jeremy always had problems. Before the accident, we took him to more therapists than I can count.
You were an excuse, a focal point for his pain. ”
My chest tightens so hard it hurts. I press my hands to my face, covering my eyes, the world dissolving into tears I can’t seem to keep in.
Goddamn pregnancy hormones. My shoulders shake.
Janette steps up now, her arm wrapping around my shoulders in a gesture of unexpected tenderness.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. “I know what you have carried. It isn’t your fault, Violet.
You were never the one who hurt Lillian. ”
I can’t breathe.
My ribcage rattles as sobs tear from my chest. My face is soaked. Janette’s hand moves in slow circles along my back, her tears falling onto my hair. Suddenly Chief’s presence is at my side, his voice a whip. “What did you say to her?”
Janette straightens, voice trembling. “I said we don’t blame her. She wasn’t at fault.”
My chest loosens with each ragged breath.
Minutes stretch on, then hours it seems, until at last I manage a raspy whisper, “I’m okay.
” My voice is thick, but genuine. My tears have slowed.
I lift my head, gaze meeting Janette’s and Peter’s, and in that moment, I feel something shift deep inside me—like a door has opened that I thought permanently sealed.
It isn’t relief from my pain, but a small space for forgiveness, a crack in my heart where hope can finally creep in.
What they did today.
They freed me.
And I didn’t realize just how much I needed them to.