RILEY
S awyer's office smells of leather, gun oil, and the pine-scented cleaner used throughout the Grizzly Ridge Sheriff's Department. I sit across from his imposing oak desk, staring down at the photos he's laid out, all evidence of Brad's escalating behavior.
Alongside the snapshots of my bruised wrist are images Elias captured on his property's trail cameras: Brad and his cousin lurking near the cabin perimeter, rifles clearly visible.
Screenshots of threatening text messages Brad sent during our relationship.
A report from my landlord detailing property damage to my apartment after I left.
"It's a solid case," Sawyer says, collecting the photos into a folder. "Judge Harmon's not completely in Cooper's pocket, whatever pressure the mayor's applying. These," he taps the folder, "will trump whatever story Brad's spinning."
I nod, not entirely convinced. After six months with Brad, I've seen how easily he manipulates situations, how quickly he can transform from aggressor to victim.
Elias stands by the window, his large frame silhouetted against the bright spring sunlight.
He hasn't spoken much since we arrived, letting Sawyer handle the legal aspects while keeping silent watch.
But I can feel his attention, a steady, comforting weight that hasn't wavered since we entered the sheriff's office.
"What about the... other accusations?" I ask, unable to avoid the elephant in the room any longer.
Sawyer leans back in his chair, gaze moving between Elias and me. "Brad's running his mouth, but he's got no proof of anything inappropriate. Because there isn't any, right?"
The question holds no judgment, just a sheriff doing his job. Still, heat rises to my cheeks.
"Nothing happened before I was of age," I confirm. "Nothing happened while Dad was alive. What's between us now is nobody's business."
My deliberate echo of Elias's earlier words isn't lost on Sawyer. The corner of his mouth twitches, almost a smile.
"That's what I thought." He closes the folder with finality. "For what it's worth, your father wouldn't have objected."
The unexpected statement catches me off guard. "What?"
"Bill." Sawyer's eyes, so similar to Elias's, hold mine. "He knew how Elias felt about you. Had known for a while before he got sick."
I glance at Elias, finding him equally surprised by this revelation. His posture has stiffened, attention fully on his brother now.
"Bill and I talked about it," Sawyer continues, seemingly immune to our shock. "Night before he passed. He said if anyone was going to look after you when he was gone, he'd rather it be Elias than some college boy who didn't know which end of a gun was which."
Emotion tightens my throat. The idea that Dad had known, had perhaps even anticipated this connection between Elias and me, changes everything. Undermines the guilt that's been shadowing Elias's every look, every touch.
"Why didn't you say something sooner?" Elias's voice is rough with feeling.
Sawyer shrugs. "Wasn't my place. Bill asked me to keep it between us unless it became necessary. Figured you two would sort it out eventually. Or not."
I'm still processing this bombshell when the office door bursts open, revealing a deputy whose name I can't recall.
"Sheriff, we've got trouble at the diner," he says breathlessly. "Coopers and McKennas. About to come to blows."
Sawyer's on his feet instantly. "Which McKennas?"
"Finn and Luke."
"Christ." Sawyer grabs his hat. "Keep these two here," he instructs the deputy, gesturing to Elias and me. "I'll handle this."
As he strides toward the door, he pauses to give Elias a pointed look. "Stay put. Last thing we need is another McKenna in the mix."
The door closes behind him with ominous finality. The deputy, clearly uncomfortable with his babysitting assignment, mumbles something about standing guard outside, leaving Elias and me alone in the suddenly silent office.
"Did you know?" I ask once we're alone. "About Dad?"
Elias shakes his head, moving from the window to take Sawyer's vacant chair. "Not a clue. If I had..." He trails off, the implications hanging between us.
"Would it have changed things?" I press, needing to understand. "If you'd known Dad didn't object?"
He considers this, his face a study in conflicted emotions. "I'd like to say yes. That I would have approached you sooner, been honest about what I was feeling. But truthfully? I don't know."
His honesty stings a little, but I appreciate it. Elias McKenna doesn't deal in comfortable lies.
"You were fighting more than just your promise," I realize aloud. "You were fighting yourself. Your own sense of what's right."
"Still am," he admits, reaching across the desk to take my hand. His palm dwarfs mine, calloused and warm. "Twenty-three years is a hell of an age gap, Riley. No matter what Bill may have said, that fact remains."
"It's just a number," I counter, threading my fingers through his. "And it matters a lot less than you think."
A shadow of a smile crosses his face. "Stubborn as your father."
"Worse, according to what you've told me about my mother." I squeeze his hand. "Elias, I've spent my whole life around men like Brad, boys playing at being grown-ups, using their fragile masculinity as a weapon, trying to make me smaller so they can feel bigger."
His jaw tightens at the mention of Brad, but he says nothing, letting me continue.
"But you? You've never made me feel small. Even when you were trying to keep your distance, you still saw me. The real me." I lean forward, holding his gaze. "That's worth whatever the town thinks. Whatever anyone thinks."
The conflict in his eyes softens, replaced by something deeper, more certain. Before he can respond, shouting erupts in the hallway outside, angry voices growing louder by the second.
Elias rises, positioning himself between me and the door, body tense with readiness. But it's not Brad or his friends who burst in.
It's Sophie from the diner, her strawberry blonde hair escaping its usual neat bun, her uniform splattered with what looks suspiciously like coffee.
"Riley!" she exclaims, pushing past the protesting deputy. "Thank God you're here. You've got to come. It's a complete disaster!"
"What happened?" I ask, alarmed by her disheveled appearance.
"The Coopers happened. Brad and his father came in during the breakfast rush, started saying horrible things about you and Elias.
" Sophie's words tumble out in a rush. "Finn was having coffee with Luke, heard the whole thing.
Next thing you know, fists are flying, coffee's spilling, and Maggie's threatening to ban everyone from the diner for life! "
"Is anyone hurt?" Elias asks, already reaching for his jacket.
"Just bruised egos so far, but it's getting ugly. Your brother Sawyer is trying to calm things down, but?—"
The rest of her sentence is lost as Elias strides toward the door, his expression thunderous. I hurry after him, ignoring the deputy's half-hearted attempts to stop us.
Outside, the quiet mountain town has transformed. A crowd has gathered outside Maggie's Diner, the normally peaceful main street buzzing with tension. Police cruisers block both ends of the street, lights flashing.
"Stay behind me," Elias growls as we approach, his hand at the small of my back, guiding me through the gathered onlookers.
The scene inside the diner could be comical if it weren't so tense.
Tables are overturned, coffee and food splattered across the typically pristine checkerboard floor.
Sawyer stands in the center of the chaos, physically separating two groups of men, the McKenna brothers on one side, the Cooper family and friends on the other.
Brad spots me the moment we enter, his eyes narrowing with malicious triumph. "There she is! The little liar herself!"
"Shut your mouth, Cooper," Finn McKenna snaps, struggling against Sawyer's restraining arm. Taller than Elias but leaner, with the same dark hair and piercing blue eyes, he looks ready to launch himself across the room at the slightest provocation.
"Or what?" Brad taunts. "You'll assault me too? Add it to the charges?"
"Enough!" Sawyer's voice cuts through the tension. "Everyone cools down now, or I start making arrests. Starting with you, Cooper."
Brad's father steps forward, every inch the successful businessman in his tailored suit. Ronald Cooper owns half the businesses in town and never lets anyone forget it.
"Careful, Sheriff," he says, voice pitched to carry. "Threatening a respected business owner in front of witnesses? Could be grounds for an ethics complaint to the county board."
The threat hangs in the air, blatant and ugly. The Coopers aren't just targeting me, they're going after the entire McKenna family, using their influence to apply pressure wherever they can.
Elias's hand tightens at my back. I can feel the tension radiating from him, the barely leashed violence. Every protective instinct in his body is screaming for release, but he's holding himself in check. For me.
"You call this respected?" I step forward, shrugging off Elias's restraining hand. Fury propels me into the center of the diner, facing the Coopers without flinching. "Spreading lies about me? About Elias? Threatening us? Following us to Elias's property with guns?"
Brad's smirk falters slightly. "No one followed you. You're paranoid."
"We have the photos, Brad." I hold his gaze. "Trail cameras don't lie, even if you do."
Color rises in his cheeks. "You've been harassing me. Turned the whole town against me with your sob story."
"Is that what you call this?" I push up my sleeve, revealing the fading but still visible bruises on my wrist. "A sob story?"
The diner falls silent, every eye on the clear handprint marked on my skin. Even Ronald Cooper looks momentarily discomfited.
"You probably did that to yourself," Brad recovers quickly. "Desperate for attention. Always have been."