Page 97 of Cedarwood Cabin

I nod, my throat too tight to speak. Their gun is a constant reminder of the hold they have over me. Lyka opens the door, helping me out with his grip tight.

Dax has pulled the Land Rover into a dark corner of the parking lot. I look at Dax, searching for the shape of a gun, but it's hidden somewhere.

They walk beside me as we enter the store. I look like a tramp compared to them in their sleek attire.

The automatic doors slide open and we step inside the brightly lit store. My heart pounds in my chest with every beat echoing in my ears. We move through the aisles as shoppers engrossed in their own personal lives go around us, ignorant of the silent drama unfolding amidst them.

I feel a strange mix of fear and longing when I see other people going about their daily, mundane tasks. Lyka steers me into the area for clothes. “Look around and pick something you like,” he says. Dax stands slightly behind us, his gaze sweeping the area, being vigilant.

I weave in and out of the racks, my fingers trailing across fabrics alien to my skin after so long. A deep red dress catches my eye. Elegant with a modest neckline, it flows down in a full skirt. I touch it, feeling the smooth texture under my fingers. Lyka nods in approval. “Very sexy. Try it on.”

He steers me toward the fitting rooms with Dax following close behind. As we approach the fitting rooms, I hear a voice rising behind me. “Flora!” My body halts and I can feel the heart jumping up to my throat. Turning around, I see Marty walking towards me with a young lady. Lyka's grip tightens around my hand. He bends close to me, whispering, “Stay calm. Don’t want anyone getting hurt.” Marty saunters over, his expression curious. “What are you doing here? Nancy said you went to London.”

I fumble for an excuse, trying to put on a light smile. “Marty, ahh, yes,” I reply quickly. “I did, but I'm just back sorting the house out for the week.”

He nods, seemingly satisfied that my explanation is good enough for him. He shoves the woman toward me and I take a second to look her over. “Ah, cool. Well, guys, this is my girlfriend, Summer.”

Summer could be in her late twenties, a feature that makes her quite distinct from Marty. Given his known preferences in the past, I cannot help but note the irony.

Lyka tugs on my hand, signaling it's time to leave. “Well, Marty, it's good seeing you,” I respond, trying as hard as I can to slip away with Lyka.

We turn around, but Marty calls out after us again, stopping us. “Wait, aren’t you one of the Faulkner brothers?” he asks, his voice wary.

Lyka takes a step closer to Marty, his tone dangerously soft. “Do we have a problem?”

Dax rushes to his side and places himself beside Lyka. I can see Dax balling a fist.

Just fuck off, Marty.

Marty's eyes flicker between us, then finally land on Summer. “No, no. Well, anyway, Flora, nice seeing you,” he says, then turns quickly and walks away with Summer.

We walk to the fitting rooms and I’m tempted with a narrow window of escape.

Lyka's hand on my wrist reminds me of my precarious situation. We reach the fitting rooms and he ushers me inside, his eyes scanning the area for any lingering threats. “We will be just outside the fitting room.”

I go inside an available stall, take off my clothes, and slip into the dress. I stand in front of the mirror and see that the red dress hangs on me so beautifully. The dress embraces my body in all the right places. I allow myself to be beautiful in that moment.

I reluctantly take off the dress and put on my own clothes again. While preparing to leave the fitting room, I bump into Jenna and her friend. Her shoulder connects with mine as she eyes me up and down with a face full of loathing, muttering, “Whore.”

The word slaps me in the face. Part of me wants to attack her for an explanation, to defend myself. Another part of me knows it could easily spiral into a confrontation, drawing unwanted attention—especially with Dax and Lyka waiting outside.

I act as if I didn't hear her. There is no way I can afford to fight with her and not attract everyone's eyes in this public place. With my head held high, I pass Jenna and her friend, never looking at them while keeping my inside turmoil intact.

Shit! I forgot the clothes hanger.

As I walk back to pick up the hanger I had left in the stall, I can't help but hear Jenna and her friend in the next stall over. Their voices ring out, packing a punch through the thin walls.

“I still can't believe Jonny ran her father off the road,” Jenna whispers with an unsettling chuckle from her friend.

My heart sinks, my eyes well up with tears, and there is a lump in my throat. The words echo again in my mind, confirming what I just heard.

Jonny killed my father.

I burst out from the fitting room in fright, the red dress forgotten. I stumble past racks of clothes, trying to escape the painful truth hammering in my mind.

“Flora!” Dax shouts out. I can hear their heavy footsteps behind me. I get outside the store.

Dax catches my arm, spinning me around with force in his tight hold. “We warned—” Dax’s voice drops as soon as he looks at my expression and tear-stained face.

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