Page 95 of Tell Me Again
CHAPTER TWENTY
Trevor stepped to the open doorway of the small cabin when the sound of tires crunching on gravel filled the quiet air.
“Thank God,” Grace muttered, coming to stand behind him. “Someone is here to rescue me.”
“You’re not a hostage,” he said, but widened his stance, placing his hands on his hips so Grace couldn’t easily get past him. The car wound slowly up the long driveway, but he didn’t recognize the dark gray Toyota SUV.
“It feels like it. We’ve been here almost a week with no phone, no television, and no computers. All I’ve got is books and schoolwork. It’s like we’re on some sort of Amish reality show.” She hopped up and down a few times. “Who is it?”
“Don’t know yet,” he said. The midday sun reflected on the Toyota’s front windshield so he couldn’t see whether it was a man or woman driving. Only Dale Rogers and a few of Grace’s teachers knew their whereabouts for the week. Dale had allowed them to stay at his fishing cabin, and Trevor doubted his friend or anyone from the school would have made the location known to someone who wasn’t safe.
On the way from Sam’s house out of Denver, Trevor had made arrangements with the junior high principal for Grace to be excused from school. She had her study guides for final exams, textbooks, and enough clothes for a month-long trip instead of the five days he’d planned for them to get out of town. He hoped it was enough time for the worst of whatever storm had developed because of the photo to pass them by.
If Trevor had his way, he would have kept her up here and off the grid until she was twenty-five. He had no cell phone reception this far out in the woods, so he didn’t actually know what was going on back in the real world. Grace had accused him of running away, and maybe that was true. But he couldn’t take the chance on her being swept up in a media hurricane.
He’d thought it would be easier to wait out the worst of it, but nothing about this week had been easy. The first few days had been spent with his daughter slamming doors, muttering under her breath, and glaring at him. His mind had constantly replayed his final conversation with Sam, and all the ways he’d been a jackass.
He’d picked up his phone a dozen times, so maybe the lack of reception was as much a punishment for him as it was for Grace. After the silent treatment failed, Grace had started arguing her way to changing his mind about the forced isolation.
She’d given a litany of reasons why they needed to go back early and how she could handle the fallout. But her most unvarying theme had been that the incident was in no way Sam’s fault.
Trevor knew that already. He’d known it from the start. But, once again, it felt like a mistake to let down his defenses and trust someone. As he’d told Sam, he could handle alone. Alone seemed to be all he was good at in life.
“We’re going back tonight anyway,” he muttered as the SUV drew closer. “I’m not sure why someone would bother tracking us down now.”
The Toyota pulled to a stop next to his truck and he cringed as Jenny Castelli hopped out and stalked toward the front of the cabin.
“Oh, crap.” Grace gave a strangled laugh. “You’re in trouble now. I’m going to finish packing.” She disappeared down the hall that led to the two tiny bedrooms.
He stepped out onto the porch and closed the cabin’s door. “Did you torture Dale so he’d tell you where to find me?”
“In your perverted fantasies,” she shot back. “Turns out your foreman agrees you’re a complete fool. At least his wife does.”
“You brought Beth into it.” He nodded. “Well played, but you can turn around, Red. I get that you’re here to defend Sam, but this isn’t your business.”
She climbed the porch’s two wooden steps and shoved him hard in the chest, following as he took a few steps back. “I’m making it my business when my friend destroys her life for you and you don’t even have the balls to watch her go up in flames. An idiot is one thing, Kincaid, but a coward is quite another.”
“I’m protecting my daughter,” he said tightly, although the longer they’d remained at the cabin the more he’d doubted that avoiding their problems would solve anything.
“Um, no. Sam is protecting Grace by making herself a human shield. She’s like a damn kamikaze pilot, and no one can stop her.”
“What are you talking about?” Trevor tried to move but the tiny redhead had cornered him against the rough-hewn pine of the cabin’s exterior wall. “She has a niece. That doesn’t have to be a revelation. It’s Grace who is on the line.”
Jenny threw up her hands. “Do you have any access to the outside world up here in Grizzly Adamsville?”
“No, but—”
“You need to get online. The photo of Grace never saw the light of day. The only people who care about her connection to Sam are the ones in your community.”
“That’s not possible. From what we heard, it was going to be a pop-culture scandal when it hit.”
“The gossip sites buried the story when an old series of nude photos of retired supermodel Samantha Carlton broke the Internet. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
He shook his head. “Not one word, but I know I’m not going to like it when you explain.”
Jenny stared at him for a long moment. “Sam traded the reputation she’d spent the last five years repairing to keep Grace’s identity out of the press.” She looked away, as if he disgusted her. “She’s back to being the bad girl of modeling. She’s given up the camp and—”
He grabbed Jenny by the arms and crouched down so they were at eye level. “What do you mean she gave up the camp?”
