Chapter 14 #3
"He's coming. Maybe not today, tomorrow, but soon. And when he does..." Max's voice cracks slightly. "I don't think he plans to bring you home, Lyn. I think he plans to make sure you never come home."
My phone feels heavy. The threats were real—and more are coming. It only takes one to be fatal.
"Also," Max continues. "Dad's been asking about you. Not angry asking—worried asking. I think he misses you more than he admits. He’s getting old, Lyn. But Lucien's feeding him misinformation, convincing him you need 'intervention.' I’m keeping an eye on it... but—"
A chill runs through me.
My dad, with his suffocating love and need to possess. control needs. Who wants me home, under his thumb, forever.
Lucien, my cousin, cold, calculating, violent when cornered. Who wants me erased, the problem solved permanently.
"What do I do?" slips out before I can stop it, and I hate how young I sound. How scared.
"You run," Max says immediately. "Disappear deeper this time. Legal name change, not just practical. Somewhere they'll never think to look."
"I can't." The words emerge before I fully realize I'm saying them. "I can't run anymore, Max."
"Lyn—"
"I have a life here. People I care about who care about me." I look through the Cedar Grounds glass again, watching Cam gesture animatedly while telling some story that has his family hanging on every word. "I'm done running."
“This isn't just about you. Anyone close becomes potential target or leverage. Be very, very careful. "
My heart stops. Cam. Sweet, protective, concussed Cam who'd absolutely throw himself between me and danger without considering his own safety twice.
" Lyn? Promise me something."
"What?"
"Don't try handling this alone. Whatever plan's forming in that perfect brain—don't do it alone."
I hang up before making promises I might not keep.
For a moment I just sit, staring at my phone, trying to process Max's warning. The late morning sun feels too bright, Cedar Falls' cheerful sounds too normal for the magnitude of what's approaching.
Two forces converging on my carefully constructed life: my father's misguided love and Lucien's calculating hatred. Caught in the middle—everyone I've come to cherish. Cam, and the entire town that's embraced me as family.
I could run. Max is right about that. Disappear tonight, leave Cedar Falls in my rearview, reinvent myself elsewhere. Lucien may eventually lose interest. My father would eventually surrender hope.
But the thought of leaving—abandoning Cam while he's still healing, breaking promises to Mrs. Whitmore and Lily and all the people who've made me part of their community—makes me physically ill.
I'm done running. Which means I need to implement Cam’s strategy quickly. But how exactly?
I'm still sitting there, trying to figure out how to fight a war I never wanted, when shadow falls across my table.
A waiter bends down with a small tray. I frown, then draw a steadying breath and reach for my wallet to pay.
"Excuse me, miss? Your meal's been paid for. The gentleman left you a note."
My blood curdles. "What gentleman?"
"Tall, dark-haired, expensive suit.” The waiter shifts uncomfortably. "Tipped bigger than most people's entire meals. Would you like the change?"
I shake my head absent-mindedly. I hold the envelope with numb fingers, my hands surprisingly steady despite the earthquake in my chest.
Inside the envelope sits a photograph.
Me at six, wearing a ridiculous pink princess dress, plastic tiara sliding sideways.
My sixth birthday party. The one where my father invited half of New York society to celebrate his daughter's special day. I remember that dress, remember hating every second, remember hiding in the bathroom until my nanny dragged me back to smile for cameras.
Across the bottom, someone's scrawled in black ink:
Enjoy meeting the new family. Do they know who you really are, cousin?
My hands tremble, the photo rattling against its envelope. My eyes dart to the windows, the terrace, the street beyond—anywhere a tall man in an expensive suit might be watching. Every shadow feels too close.
I don’t see Lucien nor any of his lackeys.
But he's here. Not just in Colorado, not tracking from distance—he's here in Cedar Falls. Was here this morning, close enough to pay our breakfast, close enough to watch me sit with Cam's family pretending to be someone I'm not.
The photograph feels obscene in its intimacy, casual violation of privacy. This isn't just threat—it's message. I know everything about you. Always have. Now I'm making sure everyone else knows too.
Is he going to turn the town against me?
I fold the photo carefully, slip it into my purse beside my phone with Max's warning still echoing.
When I walk back into Cedar Grounds, I force my face into something resembling normalcy. The Wilders exactly where I left them.
They smile when I approach. Cam walks over to me and pull me in his arms, whispering, “Darling, congratulations—you survived the Wilder family exam. Gold star.”
His eyes roam me in a way that makes my skin tingle despite my worries. “Which means you’ve officially unlocked the bonus round: me. Naked. Full access. Scratch, bite, ride, ruin me—dealer’s choice.”
Heat slides through me before I can stop it, pooling low and insistent. My body reacts on instinct, but my chest knots tight around the photo seared into my mind and the message that still burns in my phone. How can I ache for him and still feel like my world is about to collapse?
Cam’s grin falters as he catches the war on my face. “Wait—seriously? You’re gonna drop bad news now? I was about to debut my award-winning horizontal skills.” He lets out a mock-groan, dragging a hand over his face. “Tragic. History will never know what it lost.”
I want to laugh. I want to climb into his arms and let his reckless warmth burn away every shadow. But the words press against my throat like glass.
His eyes sharpen, body going alert in that way that probably served him well on ice.
"Everything okay?" he asks quietly.
"Fine," I lie, sliding back into the booth.
But my hand trembles slightly as I reach for my second cup of coffee, and I know he notices now, concussion or no concussion.
"Tara, sweetie," Hana says, leaning forward with bright enthusiasm, "I was just telling Cam we should explore today! Erik mentioned antique shops."
"That sounds wonderful," my voice sounds tight.
"Actually," Erik says, checking his watch, "we should check in at the hotel now. Give these two some time before we completely take over their day."
It's kindness, offering us space without an audience. I'm grateful and terrified in equal measure.
After the Wilders leave—with promises to meet later for a late lunch and a walk through town, Cam and I sit alone with breakfast remnants and the weight of everything I'm not telling him.
"Okay," he says quietly, reaching across to cover my hand with his. "Talk to me. What happened on that call?"
I look into his warm brown eyes, see concern and love and absolute determination to protect me written across his features, and realize Max was right about one thing.
I can't handle this alone.
Not because I'm not strong, smart or capable enough. But because the people I love—Cam, this town, this life I've built—may become part of it now whether I want them to be or not.
The secrets aren’t only mine anymore. They’ll touch him, this town, the life I’ve stolen here.
Running in circles won’t fix this; and Cam’s the exact gravity I need to keep me grounded.
“I need to tell you everything,” I whisper. “All of it. And you need to just—” The breath catches. “—listen.”
His eyes darken with focus and promise. “I’m here,” he says.
I nod, even though the photograph sears against me, buried in my purse.
My phone buzzes. A new message flashes across the screen:
Oh, I forgot—next time I’ll make sure the fire spreads.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. At first all I see is the threat. Then it seeps deeper—there’s mockery and its twisted implication. The kitchen fire. Did Lucien lit the match and left Cam holding the ashes?
For a moment I can’t breathe. Images flash—smoke, flames, Cam blaming himself until it ate him alive. His guilt, his reputation… tainted, all undeserved.
The confusion is real, but the fury is stronger.
I’ve had enough.
I turn to the only man who never asked me to hide, shrink, or earn his love.
“Come with me.”