Page 28 of From the Wreckage
I try working on the porch railing, but I can’t focus. I give up and try sanding the shed door. But I can’t concentrate. Finally, I throw a leg over the bike and let the road take me.
I end up in Willow Creek, cruising slowly through the downtown strip. Shops line the street, their windows glinting in the summer sun. That’s when I see a flash of silver in a display case.
A sunflower necklace.
Her favorite. She told me how her dad plants them every year just for her.
I’m off the bike and inside before I can think twice. The clerk boxes it up, and I grab a sunflower gift bag, tissue, and a blank card with a single bloom on the front from the shop next door. I know exactly what I’ll write.
I stop for a coffee, checking my phone. Still no directions from Grayson. Instead, there’s a text from Bri.
Brielle: Hope your day’s going good.
I grin, my thumbs already moving.
Me: Better now. Got you a surprise for the next time I see you.
Brielle: Oh, I’m excited. But mostly I just want to see you.
Me: I always want to see you, angel.
Back home,I shower, then sit at the table with the card in front of me. My pen doesn’t hesitate to write the words that are in my heart.
You’re always on my mind, angel.
I slip the necklace and card into the bag, fold the tissue paper over the top, and sit back with a strange mix of pride and nerves twisting my gut.
My phone buzzes.
Grayson: Here’s the address. Dinner at 6.
I click the message open—and freeze.
The air leaves my lungs. My pulse slams in my ears.
No. No fucking way.
That’s Bri’s address.
For a long minute, I sit there, staring at the screen like maybe I’m reading it wrong. But there’s no mistake.
Grayson’s “kiddo” is Brielle.
I drag a hand through my hair, pacing the kitchen. Every instinct screams not to go. It’s insane. Too dangerous.
But the urge to see her is relentless.
I pull on a black tee, jeans, and boots. My reflection in the mirror looks steady enough, but my chest is a storm.
On the way out, I thumb back a reply.
Me: See you soon.
And then I climb into my truck, the gift bag sitting on the passenger seat, my heart pounding like a war drum the whole way to her cabin.
I leave the gift bag in my truck as I climb out, my eyes on the door. Giving it to her in front of her dad isn’t a good idea.
Blowing out a breath, I bound up the porch steps and ring the doorbell. Seconds later, the front door opens, and Grayson greets me with a wide grin. “Glad you made it, man.”
