Page 28 of Redeeming Melodies

"Look," he cut in, his tone firm but gentle. "Before I go, I need you to know something. Your being here? It stays between us."

My head snapped up. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He pulled out his wallet, dropping a few bills on the table. "I meant what I said about leaving that life behind. Besides," a wry smile crossed his face, "pretty sure Sheriff Thompson would run me out of town if I broke that trust."

The mention of Jake made something warm stir in my chest, but I pushed that thought aside. "The Riley Stanton I knew would've killed for this story. Famous driver hiding out in small town after public meltdown? That's gold."

"Yeah, well." He shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. "The Riley Stanton you knew was an asshole who forgot why he started writing in the first place. This Riley? He just wants to tell stories that matter."

"And my story doesn't matter?"

"Your story matters too much to turn it into tabloid fodder." He met my eyes steadily. "When you're ready to tell it - really tell it, not just defend against Vanessa's version - I'll be here. But that's your choice, not my scoop."

Something tight in my chest loosened. I stood, extending my hand. "I appreciate that."

He shook it, his grip firm and honest. "Welcome to Oakwood Grove, Elliot. Give it a chance. This place has a way of healing what you didn't even know was broken."

I watched him leave, then stepped out into the morning sun myself. The street looked different somehow, as if Riley's words had shifted something in my perception. The hardware store owner still swept his sidewalk, but now I noticed howhe greeted every passerby by name. Sarah's Diner buzzed with breakfast crowd noise that sounded more like family gathering than customer service.

My feet carried me down Main Street, past Nina's bar with its fairy lights still twinkling, past the post office where an elderly couple held hands while checking their mail. Every corner of this town seemed to breathe authenticity - no pretense, no performance, just life happening in real time.

A patrol car cruised by slowly, Jake at the wheel. He nodded as he passed, that same steady gaze from last night making my pulse jump. But there was no judgment in his eyes, no questions about why I was here or what I was running from. Just quiet acceptance, like everyone else in this town seemed to offer.

Maybe Riley was right. Maybe I needed to stop running from my old life and start building something new. Something real, like the way Tommy's face lit up when we worked on that go-kart together. Like the honest connection I'd just shared with someone I'd once considered an enemy.

A fresh start. A real life. A chance to be just Elliot, not Elliot Blue the Racing champion or Elliot Blue the tabloid target.

For the first time since Vanessa's interview, since the custody battle began, since everything started falling apart, I felt something like hope stir in my chest. Not the manufactured optimism I put on for cameras, but genuine belief that maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to myself.

FIRE AND ICE

Quiet nights at home were rare enough that I should've known this one wouldn't last. My house - small, neat, and too empty most days - felt almost peaceful for once. No paperwork spread across the kitchen table, no radio chatter from my discarded uniform belt, just me and a plate of leftover lasagna Sarah had forced on me yesterday.

My phone's ring shattered the quiet, Nina's name lighting up the screen.

"Everything okay at the bar?" I already knew the answer. Nina never called this late unless she needed the badge, not the friend.

"Define okay." Her voice carried that mix of concern and exasperation I knew too well. "Got a situation here. Nothing dangerous, just complicated."

I set down my fork, dinner forgotten. "Complicated how?"

"New guy in town. Been here a few hours, working his way through my top shelf whiskey and having what sounds like a very intense phone conversation." She lowered her voice. "Usually I'd handle it myself, but he's getting loud and my regulars are starting to get uncomfortable."

"Anyone I know?"

"That's the thing - he's that fancy car guy from last night. The one you pulled over? Betty Henderson's been talking about nothing else all day."

My pulse jumped. Elliot. Of course it was. "He causing real trouble?"

"Not exactly. More like..." She paused, probably moving away from customers. "Look, Jake, I've seen that look before. Guy's carrying something heavy, and alcohol isn't helping. Might need a friendly figure more than a Sheriff, if you know what I mean."

I did know. Nina had a sixth sense about people in pain - she'd spotted mine easily enough when I first came back to town.

"Give me ten minutes," I said, already reaching for my keys.

"Thanks, honey. And Jake? Maybe leave the uniform at home for this one."

The line went dead, leaving me standing in my kitchen, suddenly very aware that I was looking forward to this call more than I should be.

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