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“He’s coming here?”
“I need to go back to Gravestone. He spoke to Phillip, there was a car accident…” The words hang between us.
“A car accident? You think… you think it was Cade?”
“I don’t know what the fuck I think, Mia,” he snaps, and I recoil. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t… this caught me by surprise.”
“I know.” I hug myself tightly. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. Channing will be here soon, and we can figure out a plan then.”
“I know he’s your family, but it could be a trap.”
Bexley stares at me, his eyes darkening. “I hoped we’d have more time,” he sighs deeply.
“More time?”
“To come up with a better plan.”
“What else did Phillip say? Does he think it was Cade?”
“If he did, he didn’t voice his concerns.” His jaw pops as he runs a hand down his face. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.”
“Bexley, no…” I rush over to him and grip his arms. “Promise me you won’t do anything reckless.”
He gazes down at me with so much love it winds me. But it’s laced with regret.
“Bex…” It comes out a desperate whisper.
But he doesn’t promise me, he doesn’t say anything, just wraps his arms around me and buries his face in my shoulder.
* * *
Channing must have broken every speed limit there is, because less than forty minutes later, he arrives at the cabin.
“You take precautions?” Bexley asks him as they do that guy-hug thing.
“Yeah. I circled around twice, waited, and there was nothing. We’re good.”
A flash of relief crosses Bexley’s face. “Come in.”
“Hey,” I say, offering him a small wave. “How’s Sasha?”
“She’s okay. Back at her family’s home. I thought it would be safer…” He glances at Bexley and something passes between them. “The Cargills’ place is like Fort Knox. He’d be crazy to try anything there.”
“Yeah, well this motherfucker is crazy.”
Silence falls over us.
“Why don’t you take a shower?” Bexley suggests. “Let me talk to Channing.”
“You don’t need to protect me, I can hand—"
“Mia, please.” He releases a heavy sigh.
“Fine.” My spine stiffens as I take off down the hall, but I don’t go into the bathroom at all. Instead, I open and slam the door, then creep back toward the living room, pressing my back against the wall.
“How is she?” Channing says.
