Page 23

We’d raced back to Jasperville with little conversation other than Dawson laying out how things were going to go when we arrived. I was to pack my shit at record pace, then leave. That was the gist.

By the time we pulled into Gramps’ neighborhood, I’d picked off my fake nails and chewed my real ones to bloody stumps, my nerves getting the best of me. My adrenaline had long since worn off completely, leaving me a shaking disaster, and that was the only way I could keep my whole body from quaking. Dawson didn’t seem to notice, too lost in his own thoughts.

What we both noticed, however, was the wall of people, armed to the teeth, surrounding Gramps’ house as we rolled up. The sight of all that hardware made me jumpy at first, until I realized who they were: citizens of Jasperville. Tyson stepped forward and gave a nod as we parked out front. I climbed out of the car, and he smiled at the sight of the bedraggled beauty queen.

“I told ya I had somethin’ to do,” he said, jerking his head toward the militia lining the street. “You don’t gotta worry about anything, kid. This town has your back.”

And man, did they ever. I gaped at the gun-toting group that had amassed, filled with teachers I recognized, the pastor from the Baptist church, the fire chief…so many faces I knew, all here to help protect me. The one-eighty we’d made from two years ago was astonishing.

Maybe this was Jasperville’s way of atoning.

“We need to get inside,” Dawson whispered in my ear as he took me by the elbow to lead me through the ranks of civilians who’d tasked themselves with keeping me safe. I let him usher me up the porch steps and into the house, where Gramps sat waiting for me in the kitchen. News of the parade shooting blared from the TV—as well as the riot at Logan Hill.

“Oh, Junebug!” he cried as he rushed over to sweep me up in his arms and spin me around like he used to when I was little. When life was simpler for both of us. “My God, I’ve never been more scared in my life. I heard those shots—”

“I’m okay, Gramps. I’m okay.”

He placed me back on my feet and looked at me, tears spilling down his face. He brushed my hair back from my face and cupped my cheeks like he wanted to commit this moment to memory. Like he knew it might be the last.

Then he ripped his gaze to Dawson. “You have to take her away from here.” The way his voice broke when he said those words nearly tore my heart out.

“I know, sir. That’s what I’m doing now. We just came to get her things.”

Gramps wiped his cheeks, cleared his throat, and squared his shoulders. “Then I guess she best get to it.”

Swallowing down my emotions, I rushed down the hallway to my room and jumped into action, gathering Dawson’s lengthy list of random shit he felt was necessary. While I shoved clean clothes into a duffel bag, he hovered in the doorway of my room, phone in hand, typing away.

“Who are you texting?” I asked as I pushed past him into the bathroom to grab the assorted toiletries I apparently needed.

“Agent Wilson.”

As much as I wanted to grill him about how everything would go down once we got to the safe house—could I leave there, would we need to move again, would I really be safe, etc.—I figured collecting the items on the list was a better activity. It kept my mind off what we had to do next…and my dad’s fate.

Once I’d packed everything I could from my room, I headed for the kitchen to pack my school stuff. I heard the front door open as I stepped into the living room to find Meg and my mother, eyes wide with fear, lingering in the foyer.

“Oh my God, she’s all right.” My mother ran to me and threw her arms around me tightly without hesitation, holding me like there was no tomorrow. “I saw you…I saw you fall, and I thought—”

“I wasn’t hit, Mom.”

“I know,” she sniffled, straightening herself up and taking a step back. “Sheriff Higgins told me.”

“So what’s the plan?” Meg asked as she eyed Dawson.

“They have to go,” Gramps answered for him. Something about the way he said those innocuous words seemed to tell the whole tale. More tears streamed down my mother’s face, and Meg, though she fought hard, cracked. She choked back a sob, then turned away so I wouldn’t see her cry.

“Where? For how long?”

“We’re putting her in protective custody,” Dawson replied. “Until we catch whoever is targeting her, that’s where she’ll stay.”

Realization dawned on my mother’s face. “But…I just got her back.”

“It’ll be okay, Mom.”

But nothing about the despair in her expression agreed with that sentiment. “This is all my fault,” she said as her tears flowed. “This is all my fault…”

“It’s not your fault—”

“No,” she said, shaking her head so wildly that her wavy hair sprang free from its clip and spilled around her face. “No, you don’t understand. I should never have come back. I’ve made everything so much worse.”

“What are you saying?”

She took a deep breath to steel herself and pinned a sobering stare on me. “I need to tell you this before you go. I need you to understand why I did what I did.”

“You’re scaring me…”

“I know, baby girl, and I’m sorry about that, but you need to hear this. I left you and your father because whoever framed him for murder said you both would be hurt if I didn’t.”

I had to…

I did it all for you…

“The AD got to you, too,” I whispered, the shock of it too heavy to weather.

She nodded. “I had to leave…and I had to make you believe the reason I gave you.”

“But…” I said, trying to make sense of her words, “but you argued for me to come with you—”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t in the end, but I needed you to feel like, on some level, I didn’t totally abandon you.” But I had—which was exactly what that motherfucker had intended. She cupped my face like she used to when I was little and smiled through her tears. “Have you truly never considered the idea that something malicious might have forced me away from you? That nothing short of your safety could ever make me turn my back on you? Do you really think so little of me that you thought I could just walk away from my greatest joy without a reason?”

“But you did give me a reason.”

“I gave you a lie, Kylene. One meant to keep you from the fate you now face. Fat lot of good that did…”

“Dad knew, didn’t he?” I said, realization dawning like a slug to the chest. “All this time, the two of you were working together to keep me safe—lying to me to save me because you knew what this maniac might do.”

Another nod. “It isn’t what we wanted, but—”

“You had no other choice.”

Relief washed the tension from her face. “We had no other choice.”

I let those words settle upon me so differently this time, realizing just how much they had sacrificed to protect me. My father, willing to rot in prison for a crime he didn’t commit, and my mother, relegated to a life she didn’t want and the hatred of her only child. I couldn’t understand that level of blind sacrifice, but I could appreciate the magnitude of it all the same. So I threw my arms around my mother and hugged her tightly, then said the only thing I could. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”

“I know you are, baby girl. I know. And it’s okay.”

“Guess I owe Dad an apology, too—shit! Dawson, my dad!”

“What about your father?” my mother asked as she pulled away from me.

“We were at the prison when the riot broke out.” Her expression went slack. “Dad was okay when we left, but…”

Gramps ran to the phone, his eyes wide. A quick dial and a look of sheer terror later, he hung up. “The system is down.”

“A mobster put a hit out on her, and someone on his payroll at the prison got into the visitation room and tried to kill us,” Dawson said, his voice flat and businesslike, but even that couldn’t fully play off just how badly that encounter could have ended. “The riot was just a vehicle to enable the attempt.”

“Sweet Lord Jesus,” Gramps mumbled under his breath.

“We were able to get out of there, but there were other inmates that cornered us. If it weren’t for Officer Stafford, I don’t think we’d be standing here having this conversation.”

Gramps walked over and squeezed me tightly. “He’s just gonna keep sendin’ people after you.”

A statement, not a question. Gramps, in that moment, fully understood just how bad things were.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be before the AD realizes his plan has gone sideways. Hopefully, it’ll take until the dust at the prison settles so we have some time, but I don’t want to linger here too long, just in case,” Dawson explained. “As soon as I get the details from Agent Wilson, we’re leaving.”

As if he’d summoned him, Dawson’s phone began ringing with a call from the man in charge. He stepped aside to answer it, leaving me standing in the middle of Gramps’ house suffocating under the weight of my departure and all that it meant.

It was strange, and almost funny in a completely unfunny sort of way, that after all the danger I’d survived—the close calls, near misses, and moments I thought I might not ever get to see tomorrow—I’d always returned home. Gramps’ house and all it stood for had been a grounding force amid so much chaos, and I’d never realized it more until that moment. Out of everything, it was what had tethered me to a stable past and a sense of normalcy that had been eroding all around me. And now I was losing that, too.

It seemed silly for that to be my breaking point. But standing there, bag in hand, with Gramps, Mom, and Meg forming a wall of sad faces blocking the exit, it felt like the rug was being yanked out from under me. And the moment I crossed that threshold, it would be gone.

Dawson joined me at my side when his call was done and stood there, unmoving. He undoubtedly sensed my hesitation and anguish, and even though time was of the essence, he didn’t rush me.

“Ya sure ya got everything ya need in there, Junebug? Might be a while before ya make it back here.” Gramps’ voice was working hard to hide the tightness in his throat, and somehow that only made things worse. I didn’t dare answer him aloud, opting to nod instead so my voice wouldn’t betray me as his just had. “Well then, ya best not dawdle. Agent Dawson has a job to do,” he said as he took a step closer. “The most important one he’ll ever have.” He turned his attention to the young fed and extended his hand. “You watch over my girl, now, ya hear?”

Dawson’s hand slipped into Gramps’. “With my life.”

They shook on it, then Gramps released him and refocused his attention on me. The weight of everything that tough old bastard wanted to say brewed in his pale eyes as they teared up, but he was old-school in so many ways, and I knew that he’d never say it. Saying the words was too final. Instead, he fought back the tears with a sharp inhale and a clearing of his throat before he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. “I love ya, darlin’,” he said softly. “You come home to me soon.”

“I will,” I whispered against his chest as tears streamed down my face. “I promise.”

He pushed me away gently and held me by my shoulders like he needed one last look—one last untarnished memory of me before he could let me walk out that door. “That’s my girl. Now, go say goodbye to yer mama and Meg.”

I dared a glance at the duo standing behind him, crying as they stood hand in hand in the foyer.

It would take all the strength I had to get past them.

“I love you, Mom,” I said, now crying as hard as she was, because leaving her meant something different than leaving Gramps. I was saying goodbye to the chance to fix what had been broken—mourning the lost opportunity to regain our relationship. The AD had already ripped my parents away from me once; now he was doing it again. But the second those words passed my lips, a sense of relief and ease I hadn’t felt in months washed over me, even in the face of what was coming. I released my mother and smiled at her as she stared back at me with wide eyes. “Didn’t see that one coming, did you?” She choked on a laugh and hugged me once more before letting me go—possibly for the last time.

“I had high hopes, but…” She shrugged for effect, reminding me who I’d inherited my warped sense of dark comedic timing from.

“Do I get one of those before you leave?” Meg asked. The tough-as-nails lawyer who’d always been like a cool aunt to me stood between me and the unknown, looking anything but tough. I turned toward her and tried to pull my shit together. “Hey, kid,” she said in a soft, scratchy tone as she forced a smile. Then that smile fell away. “I feel like the law failed you…like I failed you.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist and leaned into her. “You didn’t fail me…and the law hasn’t yet.”

Her hold on me tightened. “I’m not giving up on your dad’s case. And I’m not giving up on you. You’re a fighter, kid. Always have been, always will be. Don’t forget that, okay? Promise me that no matter how hard things get, you won’t give up.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” She pulled away and looked over at Dawson. “And you don’t either, understand?”

He nodded once. “I understand.”

“Okay, then,” she said, smoothing out her flawless pants as she steadied her nerves. “You two should get going.”

“We should,” Dawson agreed as he stepped past her and reached for the door. Opening it a crack, he peeked out at the deputy now standing guard. “We all clear?”

“All clear.”

Dawson popped his head back in and looked at me. “You ready for this?”

I took a deep breath and nodded. The second I gave him the go-ahead, he took my hand in his and led me outside with his gun drawn. Head on a swivel, he surveyed the neighborhood as he rushed us out to his sedan.

Tyson and his mini-militia all gave tight nods of encouragement as we passed, and Sheriff Higgins got out of his cruiser as I climbed into Dawson’s passenger seat. I was halfway down when a voice stopped me cold.

“You going somewhere?” I whipped around in my seat to find Garrett smiling at me with tears in his eyes. “My dad overheard the call with Agent Wilson. You didn’t think you’d get to leave me behind without saying goodbye a second time, did you?”

I launched myself into the back seat to join him and hugged him tighter than anyone else. “Never,” I cried into his shoulder as he cried into mine.

“How mad do you think Tabs is going to be when she finds out that I got to say goodbye and she didn’t?”

“So pissed,” I said, choking on a laugh and a sob simultaneously. “The redheaded kraken is gonna be unleashed.”

“Too bad you won’t be here to see it in action.”

“Take a video for me? Show me when I get back?”

His only response was to hug me tighter because we both knew I might never return to see it. And just like last time, there’d be no contact, either. No texts or calls. No funny memes or videos shared. Nothing at all.

His impending absence impaled my heart, leaving an ache I couldn’t rub away.

I pulled back and wiped the tears of the boy I’d grown up with from the face of the man he’d become. “I love you, Garrett Higgins. You have always been and will always be my best friend in the world.”

“I wish I could go with you,” he replied, his voice straining so hard it pained me to hear him say those words.

“But you can’t.”

“Garrett,” Sheriff Higgins called from outside the fed’s car, “I’m sorry, but they have to go now.” He leaned down into the doorway and stared me dead in the eyes. “Be safe, young lady. And you follow Agent Dawson’s instructions to the letter so he can bring you back here safe and sound.”

I cringed dramatically. “Then I might be in trouble.”

Garrett laughed through his tears as he hugged me one last time. “For once in your life, could you maybe just obey authority? For me. Please.”

“I make no promises,” I said as I pulled away, “but I’ll do my best.”

“Deal,” he replied as he climbed out of the car. His father rested his hand on his son’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll see you soon, Ky.”

“Bye, Garrett.”

His father shut the car door, and for the millisecond before Dawson climbed into the driver’s seat, I felt more alone than I ever had in my life.

He started the car and locked the doors before he looked back at me. “It’s probably safer for you to stay back there. Buckle up and keep your head down, okay?”

“Yeah,” I said with a sniffle, “I can do that.”

“And Danners…”

“What?”

“It’s going to be all right.” He turned his attention back to the road while I tried to absorb the pretty words he’d said, but I found no comfort in them at all. And judging by the look of tension I saw in Dawson’s face in the rearview mirror, he didn’t either.

Apparently, he couldn’t lie to himself any more than he could to me.