Page 23 of Song Bird Hearts (Green River Hearts #4)

Valerie

T he cabin is too quiet when I finally step out on the porch the next day. The wind had shifted overnight—crisper, drier, but still sharp with pine—and the sun filters through the trees like it doesn’t know what happened in the woods yesterday.

I do.

I still feel it.

Wolf and Gilden are inside. Gilden is asleep last I checked, his messy curls making him look innocent in slumber. The man is a walking heartthrob, but when he sleeps, he looks like an angel. He’d probably give me some grief if I ever told him that. I welcome it.

Wolf is sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of hot tea.

His eyes had followed me possessively around the room until I’d looked toward the front door.

He’d understood what I was gonna do and settled into the chair, with a soft, “be careful, little star,” murmured my way.

I think Wolf understands the tension with Knox better than I do.

I think he sees the pieces neither one of us are able to put together.

But I’m putting them together now.

Knox isn’t inside the cabin this morning.

I can hear him out on the porch, every now and then moving around in his thick combat boots.

When I step outside, I find him sitting in one of the old rocking chairs, his sleeves rolled up, a disassembled handgun spread out on the small table beside him as he wipes the pieces down with a rag.

His hands move like this is ritual, like it’s the only thing in the world that makes sense.

His jaw ticks when he sees me, but he doesn’t speak.

My nerves are on fire as I force myself to move over in front of him and lean back against the porch post. I cross my arms so I look serious, but also so I can feel a little bit protected.

Knox is like a fireplace, always burning, but you throw a little bit of fuel on it, it’s gonna grow past its barriers.

This will be a lot of fuel. I know that. And somehow, I ain’t scared of it.

“You gonna talk to me?” I ask.

Click. Wipe. Repeat.

He doesn’t look up. “Ain’t got much to say.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I mutter. “After you stormed off. . .”

Knox doesn’t respond. He just keeps working, his movements slow, methodical, surgical.

“You mad?” I ask, frustrated. “Jealous? Disappointed I didn’t pick you?”

That gets a twitch out of his mouth, but it’s not a smile. It’s danger, that flame flicking up just a little higher. He meets my eyes and it takes everything in me not to flinch.

“I’m not mad you fucked him,” Knox says, his voice flat and emotionless. “I’m mad you don’t see what that means.”

I blink. “What the hell does that mean?”

He sets metal pieces to the side and leans back, somehow looking more intimidating despite being in an old rocking chair like an old man.

“You’re letting people get close, people we don’t really know, people we can’t trust.”

“Wolf’s helping?—”

“Wolf’s hiding somethin’,” he snaps, and this time, I do flinch. “And Gilden? You’ve known him what, a few weeks? But you let both of them inside you yesterday like this isn’t fuckin’ life or death.”

My cheeks flame. “Fuck you, Knox.”

“This isn’t a game, Trouble.” His voice drops. “You think this is just some horny cowgirl fantasy? You think the Foundation isn’t gonna gut everyone around you if you make one wrong move?”

“So that’s what this is about?” I demand. “You’re scared. You’re so scared of what might happen, you can’t even admit you feel anything for me!”

“Don’t,” he growls, standing up from the chair and putting us eye to eye. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then say something!” I shout, stepping forward. “Say anything! Because I’m sick of walking on eggshells around you. You glare at Wolf and you shut down when I touch you. You act like we haven’t been circling each other since the day we met.”

He stares at me, his chest rising and falling suddenly like he’d just run a sprint, that fire stoked so high, it’s spilling onto my feet.

I take another step toward him. “Just kiss me, Knox. If you ain’t gonna speak about it, the least you can do is kiss me.”

He doesn’t move. “That ain’t gonna fix anything.”

“No,” I say, lifting my chin, “but it’ll serve as proof that I’m not crazy.”

His eyes are a wall. Knox has long learned to shut down his emotions. He’s always stoic, buttoned up, locked down tight. He may be burning bright, but he’s a master of hiding how he feels, and right now, he’s giving nothing but perfect ice.

“Kiss me,” I repeat. “Just once. And if you feel nothing, then I’ll shut up. I won’t ever bring it up again.”

“You have enough men fawning over you,” he snaps, his voice like splintered wood. “You got enough people desperate for a taste. I’m not gonna add to that fuckin’ ego of yours?—”

“I want you,” I croak, and his words cut off. He stares at me, and for the first time since this conversation started, emotion flickers in his eyes. Not hunger, not anger.

Pain.

“Stop, Val,” he grunts. “Please. Just stop.”

“I want you so bad it aches,” I push forward.

“The colder you are, the more desperate I am to feel your fire. You’re out here pretending you don’t want me when we both know that ain’t true.

But I’m not afraid to say I want you, too.

” I reach for him and try not to let it hurt me when he takes a jerky step back. “I need you, Knox.”

“You don’t need the likes of someone like me dancing at your feet,” he says quietly.

My heart leaps in my chest, something like hope. “And why not?”

“I’m damaged,” he answers, the pain flickering in his eyes. “Cynical. A brute. I don’t do emotion.”

“I want you,” I say again, stepping closer. My voice cracks. “Please. Just kiss me.”

That gets him. His jaw clenches hard enough that I can see it twitch under the tension.

“You don’t want that,” he says. “You don’t want me.”

“I’ve been poked and prodded for years. I’ve been told what to wear, where to sing, how to smile. I’ve been made into a product and a puppet. I’ve been ordered around, lied to, used. And for once, I know what I want. I choose this. I choose you.”

He takes a step back like I’ve struck him. “It’s a high-adrenaline situation,” he says tightly. “You’ve got cabin fever and you’re trauma bonding with the three of us. It ain’t right to take advantage?—”

“If you don’t kiss me right now, Knox, I swear to god?—”

“I’ve killed people,” he snarls, and the fire spills over. Anger and frustration comes out like he’s been holding them back for a lifetime.

His words stop me short. His chest rises and falls like he can’t breathe, that fire taking up all the oxygen.

“I’ve killed for the highest bidder and enjoyed it. Is that the kind of man you want kissing you? One who thought it would be easier to just let you die? One who looked at you as a paycheck when we first met? Is that what you want?”

All those words, and my mind catches on one of them. Like a fool, my eyes widen, and I take it as the proof I’m looking for.

“Looked?” I repeat.

He blinks. “What?”

“You said, ‘looked,’” I repeat, staring at him. “Past tense.”

Knox’s hands curl into fists, like the ground just shifted underneath him and he has to hold onto something. “I did not.”

“You did.”

He tilts his head back in frustration. “You don’t understand, Val?—”

“Then help me understand!”

His voice rips out of him like a roar. “I will strangle you with the red string of fate that ties us together! Do you get that?” The words are brutal, poetic, and also.

. . so raw it chokes the air from my lungs.

He storms toward me until my back finds the post again, my heart in my throat.

I flinch when he slams his fist into the porch post above me, the sound echoing like a gunshot.

“I sleep with a fuckin’ gun,” he spits. “I haven’t shared a bed in ten years without endangering someone.

I wake up swinging. I don’t trust myself.

Do not play this game with me, Trouble. I’m just trying to do my goddamn job.

” He shakes his head. “Just let me do my goddamn job,” he chokes out.

I wanted emotion. I’m getting it. I just never thought. . .

My eyes water, but I refuse to let the tears fall. Not here in front of him, not like this. He can’t see me cry. But his words slam into me, one after the other. He could have at least kissed the brick before he threw it at me. He could have. . . he could have. . .

“You’re right,” I say softly, looking anywhere but in his eyes. How selfish am I? How much of fool have I been? “I’m sorry.” I slip from between his body and the pole, desperate to get away before I make a fool of myself. “I’ll let you just. . .do your job.”

“Val—” he starts, voice rough as his hand lifts like he’s gonna reach for me.

I don’t give him the chance, taking another step back. What a fool I am. What a terrible, stupid, na?ve fool.

The screen door slams open behind us before I can bolt. Gilden bursts out, barefoot and shirtless like he’d just woken up. His curls are a mess on top of his head, but his eyes are sharp.

He looks between the two of us, clearly realizing some shit went down, but out of character for him, he doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “we’ve got a problem.”

I turn toward him fully, shaken, but knowing that my emotions are gonna have to wait. “What kind of problem?”

“One of your little internet sleuths just figured out where we are,” he replies, his lips pressed into a fine line.

Knox’s face hardens as he steps up beside me. I flinch away from him, a movement that Gilden doesn’t miss. “What? How?”

“Process of elimination. They’ve been following patterns, tracking reports and the fucking doorbell cameras even.

Someone mentioned National Forest signage and began looking up Google earth videos to find cabins.

Smart fuckers.” Gilden shakes his head. “A lot of your fans convinced the person to take the video down once they realized, but. . . it’s already out there. ”

“Shit,” Knox growls, grabbing the gun he’d been cleaning and starting to snap it back together. “We gotta move. This place is compromised.”

“Where the hell are we supposed to go?” Gilden asks, tense as Wolf steps out on the porch after him.

They talk back and forth, but their words fade out as my mind takes over.

This place is compromised. We can’t stay here.

How long will I be forced to run and hide?

How long will I have to do this? I can’t keep this up forever, and the 27 Foundation isn’t going to let things go.

Is this really how I want to live the rest of my life? Hiding like a scared little girl?

Famous Valerie has been doing just that, keeping her head down, letting other people tell her what to do. But the old Val, the one I am at my core, would never back down from a fight, would never hide.

And I’m not going to let her disappear under the weight of all that fame. Not anymore.

I tilt up my chin, all three of their gazes going to me. Whatever they see in my eyes, they stop talking, and instead wait to hear what it is I have to say.

“Home,” I declare, my voice strong. “We go home.”