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3
Cora
Partof me still can’t believe I’m not dead. I know I’m safe. But I also know that reality doesn’t really seem all that real right now.
I’m barely conscious of the drive. I’m vaguely aware that the first man, the younger guy, drives me in his SUV. But he recognizes my silence, and doesn’t try and talk either, which I appreciate.
My mind is going crazy trying to process what just happened, but it’s just the next insanity of my life over the last few days. I hug myself and look out of the window at the dark beach and town.
I haven’t been to Santa Marina since I was a little kid. But it was the one place I could think of that I could get to with what I had. The bus from San Francisco dropped me off here a few hours ago, and I hid at a small, secluded beach until dark before I went to the house. Why I went there is one of the many things I haven’t told either of them. But my one priority was them not calling the police.
The police can’t know I’m here, because if they do, I’m dead. After what I saw? Yeah, I’m fucking dead.
I shiver in the car. The guy, Tanner, pulls up a drive to a not huge but beautiful looking modern house. It’s not right on the beach, but I can hear the surf close by over the dunes when he turns the car off.
“This is me,” he says gently. “Let’s get you inside and we can sort this out.”
“I didn’t break and enter,” I blurt.
He smiles thinly. “Inside. Let’s figure it out.”
“I’m not crazy, either.”
“I know you’re not, Cora,” he says genuinely. I blush in the darkness. He’s like movie-star handsome. It feels weird to be blushing like a freaking schoolgirl over a guy after what just happened. But, here we are.
“They really are trying to kill me.”
He nods and opens his door. “Come on.”
I follow, and we walk up to the front door as the other guy’s truck drives up. After what I’ve witnessed, the sight of “Santa Marina Police” on the side of it chills my blood. But Tanner seems to sense it.
“Look, whatever is going on, Bishop is one of the good guys, I promise. He might come off like a grumpy grizzly bear, but I’d trust him with my life, okay?” He looks into my eyes, and I nod.
“Okay,” I say softly.
Bishop walks over, and I have to hide a smile. “Bear” is certainly an appropriate word. I mean they’re both big muscled guys, but Bishop is huge, and with the scruffy beard, he’s like a wild animal.
We step inside, and I blink in surprise. The house is gorgeous and beautifully designed.
“Have a seat,” Tanner nods at a slightly sunken living room with views of the dunes and the ocean beyond. I walk quietly over and sit on a huge wrap-around couch.
“You want anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?”
I shake my head. “Just water, actually. And thank you.”
“Of course,” Bishop growls. He sits catty-corner to me, frowning slightly. But it’s not angry, it’s concern. “You said you have proof?”
I hesitate.
“Listen, Cora, I want to help you. But your claims are...” he shrugs.
“Crazy?”
He smiles. “No, just…unusual.”
I reach into my small backpack and pull out my phone. I shiver even finding the video. I know this is risky, but I have to. Tanner walks over with a glass of water and sits next to Bishop. I like that they’re both giving me space—it’s gentlemanly in a way. Even though I also sort of wish I was just buried in their arms, protected like I was before when the shooting started.
They’re both, well—I blush yet again. They’re both ridiculously handsome guys—Tanner in that movie-star way; Bishop in a grizzled mountain man way. But now is not the time for thoughts like that, I think with a fierce blush. I bring up the video and take a breath.
