Page 51 of Wait in the Truck
“That’s not a bad idea,” Rhett agrees. “It will allow us to control the narrative. If we paint them an unstable picture of Ridge’s mental state, it could work in our favor.”
“I agree.” My eyes find Sage’s. “After we deal with Samuel tomorrow, we can make the call. It will buy us some time to get the story straight.”
“And you’re only gonna threaten Samuel, right?” Sage queries.
Rhett gives her a curt nod. “Nothing more. Nothing less. Unless he forces our hand.”
Sage drags her palm down her face, breathing out a long, trembling sigh. She looks at me, then at Rhett, then back again. Tears shine in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay.”
Silence wraps around us for a moment, heavy with everything we’ve done—and everything we’re about to do.
I finally let my gaze slide back to Rhett, an unspoken understanding passing between us. Tomorrow we’ll deal with Samuel. And if he doesn’t listen, we’ll deal with that, too.
Is it wrong of me to hope for the latter?
KADE
27
Night settles heavilyaround Lilac Meadows, and the kitchen light glares far too bright—like it’s mocking everything we’ve done. I’m at the island, turning the sobriety chip between my fingers, spinning the metal disc with a faint click each time it catches the light. It’s my restless habit—flip, flip, flip—the only thing keeping the storm in my head from ripping me apart.
Across the room, Sage fusses over a barely there pile of dishes. She’s rinsing the same plate again, eyes distant. Rhett returned to Black River an hour ago, leaving us in this too-bright kitchen light, shining on our secrets.
Finally, I slip the chip into my pocket and push off the island, circling behind her at the sink. She doesn’t turn, just keeps scrubbing.
“Sage.”
No reaction. Another pass of the sponge—water dripping off a plate that’s already spotless.
“Sage.”
She exhales a low, tired sound. “Kade.” Just my name, hushed.
“Come here.”
She hesitates, shoulders tense. “I’m almost done.”
I can’t stand the distance for a second longer. Carefully, I set my hands on the countertop at either side of her waist, caging her with my chest to her back. She goes still, breath catching like she’s trying not to unravel. “You’re not fooling me, Wildflower,” I murmur near her ear.
She stops scrubbing, letting the plate clatter into the sink. “I know,” she whispers.
For a heartbeat, she clings to the edge, knuckles whitening. Then she turns, pivoting in my hold. Her eyes flick up, rimmed with guilt.
“Kade,” she begins, voice shaky. “Sorry. I’m just thinking about calling the sheriff tomorrow.” She swallows hard. “What if they question me?”
“Stick to the story.” My tone is firm, but I soften my expression for her sake. “You saw him the night before he left. He seemed more off than usual, depressed about the anniversary of Jonah’s death coming up. He was drinking pretty heavily, but you knew there was no point talking him into going to bed. The next morning, you woke to anempty house, so you figured he’d already left for the cattle sale. You tried calling a few times but got radio silence.”
She gives a short, humorless laugh. “Not a lie.”
“Exactly.” I brush a hand down her arm. “Small town. Once they see his truck at the waterfall, they’ll write it off as suicide. The sheriff’s department isn’t gonna question something they’d rather not deal with. Everyone knows how your dad’s been for years, Sage. Hell, he’s barred from every bar in a three-town radius.”
She nods, but there’s no relief. Her gaze skitters away, and she turns again, snagging a dish towel like she can’t stop moving. I sigh, stepping up behind her once more, easing an arm around her waist, pressing my chest to her back.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I murmur, voice low, lips near her hair.
She sets the towel aside, shoulders trembling.
“I can’t stop replaying that night. The night I…” Her breath catches. “The night Ikilled him.”
