Page 63 of Hideaway Whirlwind
“Do I?” While Goldie and Russell have been going at it with Elliott, I’ve been coming up with a plan. “You’ve all just assumed or argued about who I should stay with, like I’m a child stuck in the middle of a nasty custody battle, without bothering to ask me what I want. I’m a grown woman, and I’m sick and tired of everyone else deciding what they’re going to ‘let me’ do.”
“That’s not…” Goldie’s protestation dies in her throat, her arms dropping to her sides when she realizes I’m right. “We’re just trying to figure out what’s best for you.”
“Figuring out what’s best for me is up to me and me alone. No one else.” I slash my hand. “Not even you, Elliott.” I point at Russell, who has his hands braced against the edge of the butcher block-topped kitchen island, flanked by Paul and Trace. His jaw is squared, his darkened eyes glittering on Elliott. More venomously than I had intended, I tell Russell, “And certainly not you.”
Russell’s mouth drops open, and he sputters when he says, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.”
“Yeah? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve done enough of that to your brother after everything he’s done for you.”
Elliott’s expression has gone somber, ducking his head as he rubs Sydney’s back. It was another late night spent lingering in his room that he confessed to some of the risks he’d taken to protect his brother and then-future-sister-in-law.
Russell loses some of his defensive posture. “But he hurt you, and that’s un—”
“I told you point-blank that he didn’t, but you refused to listen. And instead of asking me if I was ok with Elliott being here tonight, you four”—I make a circle motion with my finger, indicating Layla, Russell, Goldie, and Davis—“made the choice for me.” When no one speaks, I soften, since these people are now family, whether found or legally. “I know all of your hearts are in the right place, and I’ve never, not once, experienced such generosity and kindness since I was a little kid, but it’s not okay to treat Elliott as if he’s a monster after one mistake or tell me what to do or where to go.”
It’s Violet who is the first to break the ensuing silence. “So where do you want to go?”
“To Goldie’s house to pack our stuff, and then we’re going home,” I say.
My big bear covers his mouth with a hand, hiding the way his lower lip trembles.
“To Las Vegas?” Cora asks with a baffled expression.
“That was never my home,” I say, curving around the coffee table and toys, making my way to Elliott to stand beside him with my head held high. “The cabin. Our home is with Elliott.” Unless he ever proves me wrong. And if so, I’llfigure outa way to take care of that. I always do.
“I can’t believe I used to think you were so shy and quiet,” Goldie says with a shake of her head and a low huff.
Elliott’s smile is so beautiful when I look up and up, his whole face alight in a way I’ve never seen when he drops a kiss into my hair, curling me in closer, his chest heaving up and down with the enormity of his emotions.
“But what about your mom?” Faye asks, thoughtfully having put on one of Layla’s silky robes to cover her dress. She really is so sweet, not holding my initial reaction to her against me. “If she’s been following you, then she already knows about the cabin.”
“No more running. No more hiding,” I say. “First thing tomorrow morning, I’m getting my own gun, and Elliott is going to teach me how to use it. Then we’ll deal with her.”
“Yes, we will,” Elliott whispers in agreement.
“You don’t think she found you so she could, I don’t know, ask forgiveness or something?” Dolly’s eyes are teary by the end of her question, and Wyatt drops an arm over her shoulders, kissing her temple.
“Some things are unforgivable,” I tell her.
Dolly nods with a quiver of her chin. I might not know her story, a transplant the same as Goldie and me, but her pallor and the way she ducks her head into her husband’s chest say she understands me all too well.
* * *
The plan wraps up quickly after that, everyone ready to retreat to their own residences and tuck their babies in safe and sound, the same as Elliott and me. While Elliott follows Goldie to her house to pack up our things, the kids and I stay at Layla’shouse, every light turned on, while Storm, Paul, and Trace keep an eye on the doors and windows, the two younger men carrying more of Russell’s guns.
It’s as if our new life here in this strange town is straight out of some old Hollywood western movie. If I had to pick between the three I’ve lived, I suppose I prefer this one over the true crime documentary and addiction reality show, hoping to change the channel soon. A rom-com, perhaps? Yeah, that would be a nice change of pace.
Russell and I set up at the dining table with his laptop after it’s cleared of dishes so we can go through the security camera footage—except for the one trained on the side of the house where Elliott and I hadkissed and made up. Russell leaves that one for me to inspect, the tips of his ears burning red when he explains how to delete the footage while he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.
My skin crawls to think of someone following me and possibly watching out of sight of the cameras as Elliott and I were wrapped up in each other, totally oblivious to the outside world. How exposed and vulnerable we were. It won’t happen again.
After Elliott comes to pick me and the kids up, Storm takes off across the back yard instead of hopping into the Bronco. She’s already at the cabin, making loops around the house and following every scent trail when Russell and Trace meet up with us, leaving Paul and even Layla on guard in case the lurker comes back to their house. I wait with the kids in the Bronco with the shotgun Russell gifted me for the time being lying across my lap. Leaving the engine running, my heart pounding with anxiety, I watch the three men enter the cabin on opposite sides with their guns raised, flipping the interiorlights on as they go.
“No signs of blood or forced entry,” Elliott says afterward, when the men escort the kids and me inside. “The ground is muddy enough that we would have found shoe prints if anyone had been here.”
Russell says, “It’s possible the lurker might have followed y’all directly from Davis’s place to mine and doesn’t yet know about the cabin.”Yetbeing the operative word, since we can’t stay cooped up here forever. “Storm might have caught the lurker’s scent while hunting and followed it.”
“In which case, she’s the goodest good girl out of all the goodest good girls who ever done gooded,” Trace says, giving Storm all the ear scratches until Russell has to force him out the door with the grumpy promise that he can get a puppy when hehurries up and builds his own dang house.
