Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
MEYER
Today is a busy day at the inn.
I look forward to kicking up my feet and watching a movie tonight, curled into Jackson’s side. If the Meyer from April could see me now, she’d be laughing. But a lot has changed since then. I’ve changed since then. Or more accurately, I’ve given myself permission to let my guard down. To fall.
Pippa drops into the chair opposite me with a sigh. “My feet hurt,” she whines. “I love you, but I’m kind of excited to not see you for the next two days.”
I laugh. “What are you and Attie getting up to on your days off?” I ask.
“Atticus has decided he wants to learn how to fish, so Declan and I are gonna take him out to the lake. They can play with the fish while I read.”
“Not a fan of scales?” I tease.
She shudders. “Not in the slightest. Besides, my dad wouldn’t have taught me to fish, even if I had wanted to. So Declan is the only one that knows how.”
Not for the first time, my blood begins to boil at the mention of Pippa and Declan’s father.
I wave a hand, letting go of my anger. “Let the boys play. You relax.”
My phone buzzes in my pocket. When I pull it out, I find a text on the screen.
Ilsa
Hi Meyer. Can you come to the shop? I have some questions about some flowers and I need your opinion.
“Will you be okay if I run to Ilsa’s?” I ask. “She wants me to come by to discuss the flowers for the mayor’s daughter’s wedding.”
The flowers for the ceremony itself were chosen by the bride, but some of the wedding guests have chosen to stay at the inn while they’re in town, so we wanted to match some of our floral pieces to the theme.
Pippa waves me off. “Go. We’ll be fine. I think the rush has mostly died down now.”
I push out of my chair. “Text me if you need me and I’ll come right back. Jackson should be around, too. He’s on his way home now.”
Home . Does he consider this place home? Or is he itching to get back to the city, to his life?
An uneasy feeling—like maybe letting myself get attached was a mistake—settles in my gut, but I push it away. Jackson and I have to talk, yes, but that doesn’t automatically mean the outcome is going to be bad. Right?
Pippa nods, closing her eyes. “And if you need me, I’ll be right here, taking a nap.”
That uneasy feeling spreads, and I find myself bending to envelop Pippa in a hug.
“Oof.” She hugs me back. “What’s this for?”
I pull away. “You know you’re my best gal, right?”
Slowly, she nods. “And you’re mine.” A look of suspicion takes over her face. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, I paste on a smile. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just a little off today, I guess, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you.”
She smiles back. “I appreciate you, too. Now go before Ilsa thinks you’ve gotten lost!”
Heading over now! See you soon.
I send a quick text to Jackson, letting him know where I’m going. I don’t want him to freak out when he gets back and can’t immediately find me. We’ve all been on edge since the rock was thrown through my window. Or, more accurately, for the past few months.
Fifteen minutes later, I walk down the sidewalk on Main Street. It took me forever to find a parking spot—all the ones nearest the florist were taken, but that’s par for the course in Fraisier Creek during the summer. When I make it to Little Treasure, I stop short. The sign in the window says it’s closed, and when I peer through the glass, it seems like all the lights are off .
Pulling out my phone, I check my text from Ilsa, thinking maybe I misread it. But I didn’t. She asked me to meet her at the shop. This causes a strange feeling to settle in my gut. I’m not sure exactly what it is, but something is up.
I round the side of the building and head for the back entrance. I know it’s usually used for deliveries, but this is also where Ilsa parks her car. The sedan is still sitting in its spot, so she must be inside.
I tug on the back door, expecting some resistance, but it opens for me easily. Trepidation slithers through my veins. Still, I keep going.
Poking my head in, I look around. “Ilsa?” I call.
I don’t hear anything in response. Stepping inside, I let the door close behind me. Back here, the lights are still switched on, but the eerie stillness of the shop has goosebumps rising on my flesh.
Something is wrong .
“Are you here?” I try again.
“Meyer, don’t?—”
Ilsa’s voice, coming from somewhere farther inside the shop, is abruptly cut off.
Dread coalesces in my gut. I steel myself, unsure of what I might find. Whatever it is, I know it’s not good. I can feel it.
When I come around the corner, I spot them immediately. Jackson and Ilsa are standing together by the flower fridges, Ilsa with a hand on Jackson’s arm. His arm that is covered in blood. Panicked, my eyes search his body, looking for the source. A wound on the side of his head seems to be the culprit.
“Jackson,” I breathe, taking a step forward. “What?—? ”
Ilsa’s irises flare in warning, but she doesn’t have time to speak. Another figure enters my line of vision, stepping between us. I was so focused on Jackson, I didn’t even notice there was anyone else in the room. Or the fact that he has a gun.
I freeze in place, and then a million thoughts flit through my brain.
“ You. ”
I recognize this man. The day Jackson and I got pizza and ate it at the park—he was there. He commented on the weather. Ever since, he’s been around town. At the restaurant, the grocery store, the strawberry patch. I bumped into him inside the market.
I thought he was simply a tourist spending the summer here. How wrong I apparently was.
“Hello, Meyer,” he says.
“Who are you?” I ask. My brain is telling me to run, to get the hell out of here. But I can’t. I won’t leave Jackson and Ilsa behind. “How do you know my name?”
He smiles, and it sends an icicle of fear down my spine. That smile spells danger. “I’m your father.”
My face pales as my breath catches. “What?”
He nods. “Don’t you worry, I’m going to put our family back together. I promise. Soon, everything will be the way it should have always been.”
He’s not looking at me when he says this. He’s looking at Ilsa. When I turn to face her, I see the apology in her eyes. Regret, but…no shock.
“Ilsa,” I whisper, “what’s going on? ”
Her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“What are you talking about?” I can hear my voice creeping higher—in anger, in panic. “Did you help him?” It’s a stupid accusation, but my brain can’t make sense of anything that is happening right now. “Are you behind all the?—?”
“Do not speak to your mother that way,” the man snaps, interrupting me.
Bile threatens to creep up my throat. “My…mother?”
The world swims as the words sink in. Ilsa, the woman I’ve known my whole life. Ilsa, with her comforting smiles and warm laughter. Ilsa, who…looks exactly like me.
I’m not sure how I missed it. Maybe because I wasn’t looking. I have always been somewhat curious, of course I have, but I’ve never had the desire to seek out my birth parents. I didn’t want Mom to feel like she wasn’t enough for me.
“I didn’t know this would happen, I swear. I’m sorry," she says again. Then she turns back to the man. “Felix, please. Let Meyer and Jackson go. I’ll do anything you want.”
He frowns. “What I want is my family.”
Ilsa swallows. “I know. And you can have that—you can have me. But you have to let them go.”
Felix shakes his head sharply. “I’m not letting anyone go. I’m going to get rid of him ,” he promises, pointing toward Jackson, “and then we’re going to live like the family we should’ve been from the start.”
Ice cold fear shoots down my spine, like someone has dumped a bucket of glacial water over me. The reality of the situation has finally set in. Everything Felix is saying, he means. And I don’t know where to go from here, but I do know that we need to get out .
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. “Why keep Jackson here?”
Why hurt him?
Felix turns to me, his gaze softening. I feel sick. I don’t want his affection.
“I did it for you, Meyer. Everything I’ve done these past few months has been for you. Did you like my gift? I had a bear just like it when I was a boy.”
Everything I’ve done .
It hits me then, what he means. He’s behind the vandalism, the stalking, the fire, Jackson’s brakes. My cottage. It was him. And the teddy bear on my front porch…
I shake my head. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”
His gaze hardens. “He is a threat to the inn, which is a threat to you. I heard you complaining about having to work with him. So I tried to take care of it. For you.”
I am seconds away from throwing up. All of this is because of me ?
“He’s not a threat,” I say desperately, head shaking. “I didn’t want him here at first, I agree, but now I do.” My eye flit to Jackson, apology written in them. “He has helped me so much.”
Felix’s grip tightens on the gun. “You’re just saying that. He tricked you.”
“He didn’t trick me.” I hold my hands out in front of me in a placating gesture. “Please, can we talk about this? Without the gun. ”
Felix’s jaw tightens. “No. You’re not going to convince me of anything. It’s all lies . He has to go.”
Tears spring to my eyes. I hate appearing so vulnerable in front of this man, but my terror is quickly taking hold.
“Please don’t hurt him,” I beg. I turn to Jackson. I fucking hate that I’m saying this for the first time while being held at literal gunpoint. “I love him.” My gaze lands back on Felix. “I love him. If you care about me and my happiness at all, you’ll let him go.”
Felix shakes his head. “ No . You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m helping you!”
“Please,” I sob. “ Please . I don’t want this.”
“I said no !”
My cheek begins to sting before I’ve even registered what happened. I have no doubt that if I looked in a mirror right now, I would see a bright red handprint marring my skin.
Felix takes a step back, stunned. “Meyer…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to! You were crying and you wouldn’t stop and you made me so angry . You were being ungrateful…”
He keeps murmuring to himself, apologizing, though I tune him out when I spot movement from behind his shoulder. But I keep my attention focused on him, trying to buy Ilsa some time.
While I had him distracted, she managed to sneak up behind him. Now, she aims a large flower pot at Felix’s head and swings. The move disorients him enough to loosen his hold on the gun. Jackson takes this opportunity to swoop in, trying to disarm him.
Time almost stands still. My heartbeat hammers so loud, I can hear it inside my head. Like with my car accident, everything happens in slow motion.
Thump, thump, thump .
Jackson struggles against Felix, and my breath catches in my lungs. Distantly, I register the pot falling from Ilsa’s hands and crashing to the floor.
Thump, thump, thump .
The gun goes off, and I let out a strangled scream.
In the next second, all I can picture is blood and a world without Jackson in it. I hear nothing but silence and the ringing in my ears. My heart stops as tears stream down my face.
But then I hear him groan, and I’ve never loved a sound more.
“I’m okay,” Jackson says through gritted teeth. “It hit the wall.”
“You fucking better be okay.” I cross to him and press my hand against his arm where the bullet must have grazed him. Blood leaks from the wound, staining his shirt. “Don’t do that again!”
His wild eyes settle on me. “Don’t do what ?”
“Don’t almost get yourself killed!” The tears won’t stop flowing. “You idiot. I can’t lose you. You’re not allowed to die!”
Jackson tucks me against his side and guides me across the room, near where Ilsa is standing. Felix sits against the far wall, head in his hands. He rocks as he mutters to himself. He’s bleeding, too, but I’m finding it hard to feel sorry about that.
Sirens sound outside, and I breathe a small sigh of relief .
“Is it over?” I whisper.
Jackson presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I think so, baby.”
The next few minutes feel like they last an eternity, but as soon as Jackson hands over the gun and Felix is led out the door in handcuffs, I turn in Jackson’s arms. And then I fall apart.