Page 46 of Salvation (Rising From the Ashes #3)

Without warning, she stands and tugs on my hand, pulling me to the kitchen window over the sink that looks into her backyard.

Then she points to where Campbell stands, talking to two older women who look like they may swoon at his feet.

“Like him, sugar. His faith is much bigger than even he knows. He’s the same person on Monday as he is on Sunday, and he was also a victim of the same people who hurt you.

The difference is that he knew God gave them free will.

He didn’t change, even when those people did. ”

Something shifts inside my chest, like a thorn that’s been festering for far too long finally being pulled, but the relief is a different kind of pain because it leaves a void behind that I’m afraid to fill.

______________________

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into coming to this.

I think I’m getting hives from just being here.

” Willow glares at Campbell’s back as we walk up the bleachers at the high school football field, but there’s a fondness in that glare that she can’t hide.

She doesn’t hate it. She just wants him to think she does.

“That’s probably the thickness of your eyeliner that’s giving you hives,” Campbell quips back at her, still climbing the bleachers to the top right-hand corner—the place I always used to sit.

It shouldn’t surprise me that Campbell remembers—not after the paintings—but I still find myself falling again and again every time he does something like this.

We slide into our seats, with Willow sitting between us, and I give them both a look.

“Would you two quit bickering?” I chide before Willow can throw an insult back at him. “I’m going to separate you.”

“She started it.” Campbell pouts, leaning over Willow to place a chaste kiss on my lips.

Willow throws her hands over her eyes and screams. “They burn. They burn.”

Smiling against Campbell’s mouth, I soak it all in. This feeling of being a family. The rightness of it all.

“Okay, Romeo,” I say, pushing Campbell. “Stop traumatizing Willow.”

Campbell gives me a cheeky grin, bouncing his brows up and down at me like that’s exactly what he’d intended to do. I shake my head, loving the light shining in his eyes.

“Hey, guys,” MJ says, huffing a little as she climbs the bleachers.“I’m so glad you guys could make it. Campbell, we’ve missed seeing you on the field.”

Campbell smiles, standing to offer her his arm and help her up the last couple of steps. “Hayes had it handled,” he says once she’s settled. “I had better places to be this year.”

He glances back at Willow and me, and MJ gives him a knowing smile. “Yeah, I think you did, too.”

Campbell sits back down beside Willow, and as the bleachers start to fill up, she pulls out her phone and makes a face when she glances at the screen.

I look up at Campbell, who is watching her with a look of concern, but when he sees me looking at him, he smiles and shakes his head, playing it off as if it’s no big deal.

“So, Campbell,” MJ says, pulling a blanket over her lap, “Hayes says you’re investigating that graffiti on Main Street. Do you have any leads yet?”

Willow’s back straightens, and she puts her phone away, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“No,” Campbell says, shaking his head. “Not yet.”

He says the words, but a strange look crosses his face that makes me think he isn’t telling the whole truth.

“Are you talking about the art that’s right before you get to The Diner?” I ask. I’d seen it a couple of days ago, and I was impressed with the raw emotions of the painting.

Campbell snorts. “I wouldn’t call it art.”

“Oh?” I ask, surprised. “What would you call it?”

Willow looks at Campbell, narrowing her eyes. “Yeah, what would you call it?”

He narrows his eyes back at her. “Vandalism.”

I interrupt their stare down with an opinion of my own. “Then by all rights you are also saying that the mural I am painting is vandalism, too.”

Campbell’s narrowed gaze turns on me.

“Oh, she’s got you there,” MJ says, watching the show as she stuffs popcorn in her mouth.

Campbell slices his glare her way, and she raises her hands as if to say she was only trying to help. He then turns back to me and says, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. The owners of the building asked you to paint on it. You did not break the law to do so.”

I shrug. “I still think it’s beautiful.”

“Me too,” Willow says more vehemently than I’ve ever heard her say anything.

“Me three,” MJ pipes up with a mouthful of popcorn.

Rubbing at his temple, Campbell shakes his head. “I hope you have a girl, MJ, so your husband knows what it feels like to be ganged up on.”

With a big slurp of her drink, she shrugs. “I don’t know that he’ll survive a mini me.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Campbell mutters under his breath.

I scrunch my nose, reaching over Willow to pat his leg. “Don’t be disgruntled, Campbell. It’s okay to be wrong.”

Willow’s grin is beautiful when she copies me, patting her dad’s leg like I did. “Yeah, you should be used to it.”

A giggle bursts past my lips. Willow turns to me, gracing me with her smile.

“You know, Willow, we always had this tradition growing up,” I say, returning her grin with a sneaky one of my own. “Football’s not really my thing, but I always came to support Campbell. And in return, he always bought me anything I wanted from the concession stand.”

“Yeah,” Campbell grumbles, interrupting me, “And she’d always eat enough to drain my whole trust fund.”

I roll my eyes. “You are so dramatic. I did not. But I was thinking—it’s very important to carry on traditions.” Looking at my daughter, I ask, “Don’t you think, Willow?”

Her smile turns mischievous. “Oh, absolutely. Traditions should always be carried on.”

We both turn to Campbell, who looks horrified by our game. Willow sticks out her hand, waiting, and I hold my breath, trying to contain my laughter.

Realizing he’s outnumbered, Campbell sighs and pulls his wallet out of his back pocket, handing it over with a rumbling complaint. “There are two of you now. My bank account will never recover.”

Willow stands, and I lean over, placing a quick kiss on his cheeks. “Three actually. MJ, do you want anything?”

Campbell growls, and I slip away quickly, laughing as he reaches for me. He could have caught me if he wanted to, but he enjoys playing the game.

With Campbell’s wallet in our possession, I follow Willow down the bleachers to the concession stand.

It’s the end of October, and the chill is officially settled into the air. The wind blows when we get to the bottom, and I wrap my arms around myself, staving off the cold and the nerves of being in my daughter’s presence.

We walk a couple of steps in silence before Willow speaks up. “Did you mean what you said? About the graffiti?”

“Yeah. I did. It’s beautiful. Whoever the artist is has a lot of talent. You can see the emotions they were trying to express, but—”

“But,” Willow presses with a brow, half cocked.

I sigh, hating to admit it. “But Campbell was right. If the owner didn’t want it there, it’s still illegal. It’s a shame it will have to be removed.”

Willow presses her lips together, clearly unsatisfied with my answer, but her phone dings before I can carry on the conversation.

She pulls it out of her pocket and reads the screen, giving it another funny look. “I—um—I have to use the restroom. I’ll be right back, grab me a drink.”

She takes off before I can question whether she’s okay. I contemplate following her, but ultimately decide not to press my luck by being overbearing.

I finish my walk to the concession stand, groaning when I see the line. There are at least twelve people ahead of me. I wait for my turn, and when I’ve finally made it through and Willow still hasn’t returned, I decide to search for her.

Worry gnaws at my stomach when I find the bathroom empty.

Trying not to panic, I take a deep breath and look around the open area.

People are milling about everywhere, oblivious to my struggle to catch my breath.

I’m nearly in a panic, ready to call Campbell, when I spy a girl with blond curls over by the fence with minimal lighting.

A boy is standing over her, yelling into her face, and all I see is red.

Dropping everything in my arms, I take off running, grabbing the boy’s arm and ripping him away from Willow when I finally reach her.

“Willow, are you okay?” I ask, holding her face in my hands. She’s trembling, but she manages to nod her head anyway.

Turning to the boy, I straighten up and glare at him. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you’d better leave before I call the cops.”

“Go ahead, lady. That’s my girlfriend, and we were just talking. Weren’t we, Willow?”

Willow sniffs and nods, her face pale but recovering. “Yeah, we were just talking. You didn’t have to burst in. I had it handled.”

The way she is looking at me says otherwise, though. I turn back to the boyfriend in question, staring him down with ice in my gaze.

“I don’t care who you are. You need to leave. She may be your girlfriend, but she is my daughter. So I’ll trump you when the police arrive.”

The kid looks at Willow, but she’s avoiding his gaze too. “Just leave, Cam. We’ll talk later.”

“Fine,” he says, stomping off. “But don’t be blowing up my phone. I won’t answer.”

He stomps off without a glance back, and Willow slumps against the fence.

“Are you sure you are okay? Do you want to go home?”

Willow’s face morphs from sad to angry in the blink of an eye. “No, I don’t want you to take me home. I’m not a child. I had it handled. You didn’t need to butt in. And don’t go telling Campbell about this either. Cam and I had a fight. Couples fight.”

She stomps off in the direction of the bleachers, leaving me to watch after her with an ache in my chest and a hole in my stomach.

No one warned me that being a mom means you worry all the time, but that’s what I’ve done since I found out Willow is alive.

And I have a feeling that I’ll do that for the rest of my life, too.

With a sigh, I walk back to the concession stand line to replace the stuff I threw, but this time, I don’t use Campbell’s money. I use my own.

Willow asked me not to tell Campbell about her and Cam’s fight, and I won’t—at least not tonight—because he’s been looking forward to this night with her all week. I don’t want to ruin that.