Page 53 of Like a Hurricane

“Well, if they think you’re dead,” Rett is awfully quiet at my side, he’s tense, muscles stiff and I flick my eyes to see a muscle ticking in his jaw. He didn’t like talking about me dead, no matter how fake it was but Maya continues anyway, “Rett will be able to take them out when they show themselves again. And then there’s no more threat against you.”

“That seems too easy,” I breathe, “What happens when the world also believes I’m dead?”

“They won’t know.” Rett speaks quietly.

“The whole world knows I’m missing,” I say incredulously, “They’ll surely know if I’m dead.”

“No,” he sighs, “Not if I make your death clean and quiet. The world would never know.”

“So, I could go back?”

“Yeah, princess, you could go back if you wanted to. Once it’s safe, there would be nothing stopping you from returning to your life if you wanted that.”

Hope blooms in my chest at the thought, this sudden overwhelming swell of excitement that I could return to my normal life. I could do my shoots, and run my business. I could have lunch with Suzy and spend my Sundays on the sofa, I could hold my sister’s hand and we could say goodbye to my father together. I wouldn’t be hiding. I wouldn’t be in danger.

I wouldn’t be with Rett.

That balloon of hope pops so suddenly, it physically makes me gasp.

I wouldn’t be here. On this tiny island, with its snowy peaks and tranquil bay. I wouldn’t be in front of a fire. Or drinking coffee while watching the snow.

I would just be Arryn Lauder, heiress and model.

But I’d be with Olivia again, she would no longer be sad and hurt because she thinks something bad has happened to me. The hotel would continue. My father’s name would continue and everything he had built would continue.

“I need a minute,” I breathe, the list of pros and cons building so long and heavy, I couldn’t even figure out what I wanted.

It was stupid for me to let myself believe this is what I wanted. I’d spent barely any time here, had only known Rett a short while, I couldn’t lead myself to believe that this was right for me.

My old life was right for me. It had to be since I’d spent the last almost thirty years building it. And if I suddenly change it now, suddenly change everything I thought I wanted, it would have all been for nothing.

It would be a failure.

Rett lets me go but I feel all their eyes on me as I head to the door and let the crisp, winter breeze chase away the sudden heat coursing through me.

I suck in big breaths of the salty air, tune my hearing into the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Harper’s sweet music like laughter joins with the sound of the ocean and squawking birds, and I just about manage to dodge the chicken as it scurries towards my feet.

“Pickles!” Harper giggles, chasing the bird, “come here! You have to go back for dinner!”

The bird doesn’t listen and continues to run away. But Harper doesn’t appear worried, instead she chases it like it’s a game they play daily. And never in my life would I have thought a relationship between a girl and chicken could be so damn wholesome, or that chickens apparently made great pets.

I sit on the porch step watching them. Eventually she manages to catch the bird and she cradles it to her chest before she spots me on the porch.

“Hi!” She beams.

“Hello Harper,” I smile.

“You look sad, do you need a cuddle?”

My mouth drops open, “Um no, I’m okay.”

“Not even from Pickles?”

I cringe at the feathered thing in her arms, “No, really. I’m fine.”

She pouts, her brows drawing low over her eyes. She sniffles once before she takes sure steps towards me, determination stamped all over her face. “Here.” She doesn’t give me a chance to stop her, the bird ends up in my lap and she grabs my wrists, forcing me to hold the bird.

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