Page 7 of Love Story

“Thank you,” I managed after a moment.“I appreciate it, I—”

He shut the door before I could finish, rounding the truck to the driver’s side and climbing in with the same quiet efficiency.The engine rumbled to life, and before I knew it, we were on the road, heading out of the city and into the dark expanse of the countryside.

There wasn’t much to see—just trees, shadows, and the occasional distant light from a farmhouse.The sound of the tires on the road and the hum of the heater filled the silence, and I felt myself relaxing against the seat, the coat still draped around me.Sam’s scent lingered in the fabric, grounding and calm, and it wrapped around me like the warmth of the truck.

I hadn’t planned on falling asleep, but between the gathering darkness and the rhythm of the tires on the road, my eyelids grew heavy, and my head tilted back against the seat.

The room was cold.Bare walls, a metal table, and a single bulb hanging overhead cast a harsh white light.My hands were clenched into fists on my lap, my breath coming too fast, too shallow.

Across from me, a man paced, a federal agent, his polished shoes scuffing over the floor.He was shouting, words sharp as broken glass.

“How could you not know?”

I flinched as a folder flew across the table, papers scattering onto the concrete floor.

“What did you do with the investors’ money?”

“I didn’t know anything—”

“Where is it?”

Another folder, another accusation.The weight of his words pressed down on me.

“You were part of this!”

“I wasn’t!”

“Your best friend was part of the problem.How could you not see it?”

I opened my mouth, but I didn’t have an answer.I had trusted.I had believed.And now—

A pen rolled toward me, stopping against my fingers.A form slammed down in front of me.NDA.

“Sign it.Get out of town.Don’t talk to the media.”

I turned my head.My lawyer stood near the door, his arms crossed, his expression grim.He shook his head, slow and deliberate.

“No one can look after you now,” he growled at me.

I was fucking scared at that.“You promised if I came forward, you’d protect me from this!”

He laughed, and it echoed in my skull, growing louder, looping over and over.

No one can protect you from the feds if we can’t prove you’re innocent.

No one—

The truck lurched to a stop, and I flailed awake, Sam’s hand pressed gently on my arm.

“You okay?”he asked when I gripped his hand.

I stared at him breathless, and then shook off the panic.“Sorry, yeah,” I mumbled.

“We’re here,” he said.

I blinked, trying to steady myself as my surroundings came into focus.Ahead of us stood a familiar house, its pale siding gleaming in the porch light.The dark shutters bordered the windows, and the warm light spilling from the open front door seemed to whisper, “Welcome home.You’re safe now.”

“Huh?”Sam asked from next to me, and I heated in embarrassment—had Ireallysaid that out loud?

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