Page 11 of Love Over Easy

I stare at the black bag and swallow. I look up into his wary eyes. Has he already judged me guilty because he caught me breaking into a house? “I have nothing to prove it, but it’s my money. I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you think.”

He searches my face, gauging my truthfulness. “Did you take it to escape from your abuser? Does it belong to him?”

I want to tell him everything, but I can’t, at least not yet. “That money is mine. I earned every bit of it.”

His brow raises. “Legally?”

This is where it gets sticky. I don’t want to lie. “Sheriff, I’m telling you the truth. The money is mine. Are you going to give it back to me? It’s all I have.”

He looks down at the bag in thought before looking back up at me. I see the hesitation in his eyes. “Just for a few days. I’ll make some inquiries and then we’ll see.”

Inquiries. That could be a problem. Would I have been reported missing? I don’t think so. “Am I under arrest?”

He stares into my eyes moments before he slowly shakes his head and replies, “No, but I don’t really know what to do with you. I guess I’ll take you to the Inn. Kimberly should have a room available.”

This time I’m the one shaking my head. “About that. I can’t really do that.”

I wait for the pieces to notch into place for the Sheriff. “Because you can’t register under your real name?”

I pick at my thumbnail. “Yeah. I know this is asking a lot, but if you could just give me some time, I’ll explain everything. I promise.”

Debating my request, he stares into my eyes to determine my threat to his town. “I won’t ask any more questions, but I do have some conditions. First, you’ll stay here with me. There’s more than enough room.”

My back straightens. “Won’t your girlfriend mind?”

His brows pinch together. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

That’s curious. I didn’t pick up any gay vibes from him.

“Okay, I need to know what that look on your face is for. Why did you assume I had a girlfriend?”

I snort. “Well, just look at you.” My face heats when I realize how that sounds. He chuckles at my embarrassment. “And your house has a very…feminine feel.”

His chuckles turn into a laugh. “Yeah, you’re right. I keep meaning to do some renovating and redecorating, but I never seem to have time. This is the house I grew up in. Until a few years ago, my mom lived here and I had a small cottage on the third row. Not far from where I found you. My dad passed and Mom decided it was time she downsized and we switched houses. I think she has hopes that I’ll fill it with grandchildren.”

My father makes sure I have a birth control shot regularly. Grandchildren would ruin his plans. “I’m sorry about your dad. Was he a nice dad?”

His eyes soften around the edges. “The best. He was the town’s lawyer for years and I wanted to be just like him. I hope to go back to practicing full-time someday.”

“I hope you can. It’s rough when you have to do something you don’t like.” I know very well what that feels like, to have no say in the direction your life takes.

“That sounds like you have some experience with doing things you don’t like. I promise nobody will hurt you again. I just need to know—do you think whoever hurt you could follow you here?”

Not in the way he thinks. Just one photograph posted online is all it would take. “I don’t think so. I covered my tracks well. Shyanne is my real name, but I can’t tell you anything else. Like I said, just give me some time. I’m not running from an abusive husband or boyfriend. I know it’s a big ask, but please trust me on the rest.”

He pauses as he weighs his options. “So, you’ll stay here? I’ll feel better if you will.”

I have no other place to stay, legally. “If you’re sure I won’t be in the way, I’d love to. Whatever you want, I can cook, and clean, and I’m definitely going to pay rent.”

He shakes his head with a grin and replies, “I won’t take your money, and I have a cleaning lady that comes in every other week, but I won’t turn down anyone that offers to cook for me.”

He holds out the duffle bag and I take it from him. Our fingers brush each other’s in the transfer. I can feel a buzz travel from my fingers to my stomach.

“Go get dressed; you’re coming to town with me.”

My eyes widen in distress. I’m trying to stay out of sight. “But—”

He interrupts, “You’ll stay out of sight. Don’t worry. Trust me, okay?”

What choice do I have? I’ve asked him to do the same thing. To trust me. I’ve heard those words many times in my life, but this is the first time I’ve ever believed them.

All of my efforts to this point have been to get here undetected. Now what? In the back of my mind, the money in my bag will be enough for a down payment on Gram’s old restaurant. It’s a crazy idea. I have no formal training for doing something like that, but it’s my dream. To own something that my Gram loved and a place that holds the best memories of my life.

After walking through town and peeking through a tear in the brown paper covering the windows of the closed restaurant, I don’t know if I have time to take on a full renovation project. It’s really bad. I know I don’t have enough money with me and getting more would be a red flag announcing where I am.

How long do I have? I’m not going to dwell on that. I’m going to be present and live in every moment I have on Faire Island.

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