“No! Take me home!” I scrub at my face. Big, fat, angry tears are plopping on John’s shirt as the reality of what I just did sinks in more clearly. My wrist and ankle are throbbing, Ned’s bike is mangled, and someone took a photo of me and might have posted it on social media.
“You might need X-rays. Or a splint. Or who knows what?”
“No!”
He curses, turns away from the clinic, carries me to his pickup, backtracks then puts my bike in the back, and joins me,his expression solemn when he sets the hatbox on the seat. “You need to get checked out at the clinic.”
“You already said that.” I bite out the words, then stare past him. “And I said no.”
He pulls out of the parking lot and drives silently, his jaw tight, his fists clenching the steering wheel. I slump against the door, silently kicking myself over and over again for getting myself in this position.
When we get to the dirt road leading to Heaven, he pulls the pickup over to the side.
“What’s going on? Damn it, Wren, you can trust me.” His eyes burn into mine.
“I can’t tell you.”
He sits back and stares out the front window. “I don’t know what to tell you because it seems like we’re at a standstill if you can’t trust me.”
“Then we’re at a standstill,” I whisper. “Because I’m not going to pull you into the mess I made.”
He shifts toward me, meeting my gaze head on. “Too late. I already jumped in. Waders first. Whether you damn well want me to be in this mess with you or not, I’m there.” He stares at me so long and so hard that I feel it all cracking—the weight of the secrets, the heaviness in my heart, my resolve to keep a barrier between the two of us.
“Do you have social media?” I ask him, my voice barely above a whisper.
“Does it look like I have social media?”
“Instagram, Tik Tok, Facebook?—”
“Iknowwhat social media is. I just don’t make time for it.”
“I need to find out if that woman posted that photo.”
“If so, it was just that one, right? Just one photo.”
I frown out the window in frustration. “You don’t understand.”
“Right. So make me understand. Because I’m here with you, trying to understand.”
“How many bakeries are named ‘Don’t That Take the Cake?’”
“Am I supposed to know that?”
“With that one photo, it’ll take no time whatsoever for whoever he has looking out for me to track me down here in Paradise Springs.”
“He as in the man who hit you?”
I nod, crumpling further into the seat. “But…”
“Doesn’t seem like there should ever be a but in this kind of situation.”
“The bruises are from a car accident. I wasn’t lying about that.” I look away from his unwavering gaze. “But he caused the accident and he has hit me… It’s complicated.”
“Doesn’t sound complicated to me. He laid his hands on you. You need to stay away from him. That’s it.” He crosses his arms and stares out at the marsh while tears gather in my eyes.
It does sound simple. But why wasn’t it?
“I feel like I’m stuck in this situation that I’ll never get out of,” I whisper, as much to myself as to him.
