She cringed slowly, glancing back at the car.
“Frankie,” Eli urged, picking up on the tension in her mind. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.” She whispered, rubbing her hands over her arms even though she wore Eli’s thick winter jacket.
“Bullshit.” I snapped, angry that I almost just died, but even angrier that it was almost Frankie behind that wheel.
She looked down at where the car sat crumpled against the tree. “What if the brakes didn’t just fail?” The air went still between the three of us. “What if it wasn’t an accident?”
“What do you mean?” I asked with lethal calmness in my voice, because I was already following her thought path.
Turning to look up at me, her green eyes were haunted. “What if someone cut them?”
I stepped closer, voice low. “If you think someone is trying to hurt you, or hurt us, you tell me everything. No more secrets.”
She swallowed, eyes flicking between me and Eli, “I can’t shake this feeling.” She whispered, “I don’t think it was an accident.”
Eli put his arm around her, and she instantly sank into his hold as tears fell over her eyelashes again. “Then we don’t take anymore chances. You’re safe with us.”
No hesitation.
No argument.
We’d figure it out when we got there. But first, we were getting Frankie somewhere safe.
Frankie hadn’t let goof Travis’s hoodie since the crash. Not when the police and EMS arrived at the scene. Not when the tow truck came to load up her car. Not even once we jumped into my truck—Frankie in the middle of the front seat between us.
Her shoulders were drawn in, her hands trembled, and her tiny fist gripped the fabric of his hoodie, as if he might vanish if she released it.
Trav refused to go to the hospital, which I was not surprised. And thankfully, I knew the EMS crew on shift and knew what to keep an eye out for overnight just in case. The police ruled the crash an accident, blaming the ice and weather, and the three of us stayed silent as they loaded the car and towed it to the garage. I’d call Lenny, the head mechanic, in the morning and make sure he looked at the brake lines.
I kept my eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel, and the other on her thigh. Not enough to start anything, but enough to let her know that I was still there.
Luckily, we had already planned to go to Travis’s place instead of my loft or Frankie’s rental. Even if we hadn’t though, he would have insisted upon it, and so would I.
He needed to get her some place that he could control every inch of. Somewhere no one could get close to without him knowing. We drove into the woods; the headlights catching the pine trees like shadowy figures stacked to the starry sky.
Frankie glanced out of the windows, brows pinched together, like she wasn’t sure where the hell we were going.
“You’ll love it,” Travis said, kissing her temple as he gingerly put his arm around her and pulled her against his chest. “I promise.”
We turned down the gravel lane, and then it came into view. I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she laid eyes on Travis’s life work.
His cabin.
His home.
His masterpiece.
He had worked on it for years, building it piece by piece with me right alongside him. But this washishard work.
It was two stories tall with a wide wrap-around porch and a massive stone chimney along the side, puffing smoke up into the dark night sky. Windows on both floors glinted with warm lightfrom within, and it looked like something out of a Christmas movie set against the snowy hills behind it.
Honestly, it was the perfect family home.
The kind of place that Toby and Emmie deserved to grow up with Frankie inside, warming the wood with her love and nurturing.
When she climbed out of my side of the truck, she paused, waiting for Travis to join us.
