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Chapter Thirty-One
BRIGGS
The ground feels likeit’s slanted, and I can’t get my balance as I stomp to the treehouse. I listened to Xan’s message and the forceful way he spoke about Millie plays over and over.
You can’t take her away from me.
Of course, he’s right. And of course, I don’t want to do that.
But I can’t stay here either.
I messaged the person who sent Millie’s photo, warning them that I know who they are, and the police are involved.
I need to disappear, make it seem like I headed south to the US or east. I’ll go north, spend time in Yukon where there’s little cell service and vast landscapes to explore while I wait for this to settle, or until she’s caught.
“Millie,” I call up to the treehouse. “I know you’re mad at me, but we need to go. Just for a while. I promise we’ll come back.”
Millie pokes her head over the edge of the treehouse. “Tell me why we’re leaving, and I’ll come down.”
I sigh and rub forehead. What am I supposed to tell her? I can’t be honest. I don’t know how to edit this situation down. I glance at my phone.
We’re being followed, hunted, threatened. A woman I once ousted for dishonesty and unethical behavior has gone down a revenge path to destroy my sanity and hurt the people I love.
“Someone is very angry with me for something. That’s all I can tell you Millie. You’re a kid. I don’t want to scare you.”
“Should I be scared?” Her face tilts to the side and she lowers the ladder.
“I’m scared.” I say and it’s true. It’s true so wholly and deeply. I’m scared of everything. I’m scared of this town, the people in it, how much I want to stay, how much I want to take Xan up on his offer to be a family, scared it’s all a lie, that it will disappear, that it will be taken away from me.
Dad waits for us on the porch, his brows low and mouth pinched into a scowl.
“Dad, please don’t,” I say, gathering the last of our stuff.
“You know, Brigitte, I have one thing to say and then you’ll never hear a word about it again.”
Millie sulks on her way to the motorhome and I’m glad there wasn’t too much damage, only charred smoke and it needs a good scrub on the inside. My plan is to head to Alberta, sell it there, get lost in Calgary for a few days and head north with a new rig.
Dad waits for Millie to get in the truck and I’m crossing my arms defensively waiting for him to talk.
“I always hated that Ryker boy. I hated his father for what he did to your mother. She lost a part of herself to him. I always blamed them. Jason for your mother’s cold untrusting heart, and Xan for pushing you to leave. The Rykers were no good playboys destined to hurt you. But over the last couple months I’ve learned something. See it with such clarity now.”
My heart races, this is not where I thought this was going. “See what?”
“That it was you. It was your mother. How forcefully you keep people out of your lives. How strongly you hold your emotions to your chest. That boy loves you more than you’ll ever appreciate. The dedication he’s had to you, the things he’s done to try to be worthy of you. And you’re going to run away when things get hard. Refuse to let anyone help you. It’s not those Ryker boys who are stubborn and scared.”
My jaw hangs open and hits of defensiveness, fear, sadness jab me in swift painful punctures.
“I want to say that I’m sorry for whatever I did to contribute. Whatever I didn’t do that you shoulda had as a kid. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for your mother, that the only damn thing she could show affection for was a fucking tree. You deserved better. But Alexander has been fighting for you and you know it. So, tell me this...why are you really leaving?”
Tears tingle behind my eyelids and I take a slow breath through my nose. There’s too much in there to unpack. It’s to much to process.
“You don’t always have to do it all alone, Briggy.” He uses the name he called me as a kid.
I glance at the motorhome, seeing the top of Millie’s head, and her slumped defeated body.
“At least let him say goodbye,” Dad says sternly when I don’t respond. All the words are stuck in my throat, the pressure of it all threatening to burst through my chest. I know he’s right. I don’t want him to be right.
Mom’s notes all jumble through my mind. How passionate she was, how ready to love. I remember how safe I felt melting into my feelings for Xan as a youth.
