Page 137 of The Lilac River

“Don’t.” My voice cut sharp. “We have the evidence. The chemicals, the lavender farm deeds, Mom’s will. Your hiding place wasn’t so hidden, was it?”

His face only blanched a little, but he was quickly back to calm, collected and full of shit.

“I’ll be out of here before you know it.”

He slammed a hand against the bars, the sound vibrating in my ribs more than my ears. A low murmur of Old Petey’s voice filtered from his cell as he started singing. Low and tuneless. Like a fly that wouldn’t die.

When he smirked, all my ease disappeared. Everything about the creek, the will, the farm paled into insignificance compared to everything else that he’d done. Compared to what really mattered. Lily.

“I don’t think so, Michael.” Inching forward, my hands clenched into fists inside my pockets. “You’re going to pay for everything. Including what you did to Lily and me.”

His expression flickered as I gave him a second to let it sink in. For him to understand that the foundation of everything for me was Lily. I would always fight for our land, for what was rightfully ours, but for her. For her I would ruin the world.

“She told me everything. How you stole ten years from us.” I took a deep breath trying to damp down the fury building in my chest. “Well guess what, you have no control over her any longer. You fucking evil, narcissistic bastard. You took her away from me. You…” My breath was ragged as I inhaled, pushing back the sadness and pain of the last ten years. “You stole our lives. The beauty we could have had all for what?” I pointed at my knee. “Because that sure didn’t work out, did it. And you know what? I could have still made it, even if I had gone to Ohio.”

His sneer deepened. “You think I did all that because of you?” He scoffed. “I didn’t give a shit about your football career. But the people in the NFL? They had power. They could’ve helped me. And that girl!” His nostrils flared. “She would’ve ruined it all. Made you think being a damn rancher was enough.”

“And it would’ve been!” I exploded, grabbing the bars. “I would have been happy shoveling shit if it meant that I got to keep her.”

My voice cracked. My chest ached. My eyes burned with ten years of grief. “But you took that away from us. Destroyed it for your own greed and ambition.”

A door opened and footsteps clipped on the tile. My time was up. But I was done anyway.

“Enjoy your time in prison, Michael. And when you finally get out, don’t come back to Silver Peaks because you don’t have a family here anymore. I do. I have everything you tried to take from me. A daughter who loves me, the land that’s rightfullyours, and Lily. My heart, my home. Always remember that you didn’t just fail, you lost everything. And I won.”

“You done here?” Sheriff Jackson raised a brow. “It’s time.”

“Yep,” I told him, giving the mayor one last glance. One last goodbye “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“Nash, you little dick?—”

I didn’t hear the rest. Because from that moment on, he was already gone.

Chapter 49

Free – Zac Brown Band

Lily

It had been a couple of months since Mayor Miller had been arrested. A couple of months of bliss as me, Nash, and Bertie fell into a wonderful kind of normal. The kind of normal that didn’t feel boring or small but sacred. Earned. Like something built carefully with callused hands and late-night promises.

I stayed over at the ranch most of the time, but I still liked to be home for Grandma if Mom was working a night shift. On those nights, Nash and I spent hours video calling or texting, sending blurry photos of the sky or our dinner, trading stupid inside jokes that always ended with my cheeks hurting from smiling. He often came over once Bertie was in bed but had to leave by ten, so he’d be up at dawn for ranch work.

Tonight, though? I was staying over, and the five of us were spending it together. No interruptions. No stress. Just dinner and games, and my heart full to bursting at the fact that I was part of this. Really, truly part of it.

After dinner, with the kitchen wiped down and Bertie bouncing on the balls of her feet, we all sprawled into the living room for games night. It had become routine around the Miller house the last two months and had somehow become an official tradition without anyone saying it out loud.

Gunner flopped onto one of the brand new comfy couches that the boys had me pick, with the grace of a collapsing tree. “I demand to be on the winning team tonight. No carrying Nash’s sorry ass like last time.”

“You’re dreaming, little brother,” Nash fired back, scooping Bertie into his arms as she squealed with laughter. “You’re about as useful at trivia as a fart in a windstorm.”

“I know all the important stuff,” Gunner said, puffing up. “Like how many chickens it takes to?—”

“Nobody cares,” Wilder cut in, dropping beside him with a groan and tossing a deck of cards onto the table. “Let’s just play.”

“Okay, okay, okay!” Bertie shouted with her arms flung wide like a tiny general. “I’m Team Captain tonight! Uncle Gunner, you’re on my team!”

“Yesss!” Gunner fist-pumped the air, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. He threw a triumphant look at Nash. “Suck it.”

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