Page 70 of Things Left Unsaid

“Things need shaking,” Mrs. Abelman says dourly.

Callan pulls a face.

With a pointed nod at Callan’s breakfast, and only once he’s started eating again, she asks, “Are you going to tell Susanne?”

“About the famous person?”

Mrs. Abelman pins me in a glower. “No, Colton. About Dove Bay.”

“The fewer people know the better.”

She nods her understanding.

Our operation is sensitive. Its success lies in secrecy—only a handful of people know about it. Us, Theo, and the two trusted ranch hands who work in that quadrant—Darrel and Buck who’ve both been with us for two decades.

Building another bunkhouse will eat into that anonymity, but Callan’s right about the rental and we’ve been needing to expand for a while now so it’s time to bite the bullet.

“She’s bound to notice. Plus, is it any way to start a relationship with that kind of secret?

“‘Oh, once or twice a month,darling,” Callan mocks, “a truck drops off women at our bunkhouse who’ve been psychologically and physically abused by the monsters they married. We’re not people trafficking, I promise.’”

I think about how she picked up on my barely-there interaction with Bea that day in town…

“We’ll deal with that if and when it comes to it,” is all I say.

And if she’s anything like the girl I used to know, I have a feeling it’ll be sooner rather than later, but it’s still tomorrow’s problem.

Today, I have a flight to catch.

If she doesn’t notice, then she won’t be here long enough for Dove Bay to be an issue.

I refuse to ponder how that makes me feel. Because if I truly thought about it, I’d upend this table, inadvertently scaring the shit out of my brother and Mrs. Abelman, and that’s never on my to-do list.

Colt

PAST

The One That Got Away - Katy Perry

“Chaos? What are you doing here?” For a second, my brain reacts to her presence like I’m the one who forgot it’s Tuesday.

But that’s impossible. It’s Thursday and I’m only here and not in class because I caught Callan’s cold this past weekend and today’s the first day the fever broke.

“You can’t be here. Not out in the open. What if Pops sees?—”

She whips around before I can finish chiding her, and when she does, words fail me anyway.

Her face is ravaged with grief.

I’ve seen her through the deaths of both her parents, but that’s nothing compared to this.

A heavy sigh escapes me and I open my arms.

Walker.

It has to be.

She runs to me like I’m the only solace she has left in the world, and I brace myself for impact. Her arms immediately tunnel around my waist. Her insulin pump digs into me but I’m mostly relieved because the last time she lost someone, we almost losther. Even though I got her to promise to take care of herself, it didn’t stop her from ending up in the hospital.

---