Page 24 of Bitter Falls

“Oh, half an hour?” He raises his eyebrows. Sam Cade has a surprisingly innocent face, considering all that he has seen and knows and is capable of doing. He keeps secrets shockingly well, even from me. Like me, he diligently practices his firearms, and while he’s never told me everything he’s had to do to protect me and the kids, I’m sure there are deep waters there too. All that is an interesting contrast to the light that dances in his eyes right now. “Plenty of time, then.”

“Hmmm.”I pretend to consider it, then slip off my shoes and unbutton my jeans. “Good point.”

Sex in the shower is wonderful, of course, and the running water drowns out any sounds that might disturb the kids. I love this man, and he loves me, and even though things might never be perfect between us, at moments like this they are damn close. I hang on to him, breathless and trembling, as the hot water runs over us and washes us clean. There’s always a flash of memory of the pain Melvin used to inflict on me during sex. But Melvin’s gone now. That’s all gone.

This is real and sweetly hot, and Sam is the best lover I have ever known, and I am very, very lucky.

We cling together and kiss with the clean water cascading down our faces, sealing us together, and then, reluctantly, we part. I step out and towel dry; my hair’s a damp mess, but I don’t care. I let it go.

I wait until he steps out, half-dressed already, and then I say, “We had some visitors while you were gone.” Better tell him before Lanny or Connor blurt it out.

“Oh?” He stops in the act of pulling a T-shirt over his head to look at my expression, to verify what he sensed in my tone. “Who?”

“Jasper and Lilah Belldene. Apologizing for their son’s shooting ‘accident.’” I air-quote that last part, and his expression darkens. “But in reality? Declaring war on us.”

“War? Why? What the hell did we do?” He backtracks immediately. “Except for me socking her son stupid that one time at the gun range. Which he deserved.”

“It’s me, not you,” I tell him. “I’m the bad apple. More reporters, more focus by cops, and they haven’t forgotten that failed documentary that Miranda Tidewell started on me.” That documentary had come for us out of the blue, a purely malicious attempt to make my life hell, and it had worked until her death put a stop to it. “I see their point, really. It’s hard to keep a low criminal profile when I put a spotlight squarely on this place every time I step out the door.”

He finishes putting his shirt on and shoves his feet into flat loafers. I can tell by the fast, staccato movements he’s pissed off, but not—I hope—at me. “Some nerve coming up here. Did they think they were going to intimidate you?”

“I’m not really sure. Maybe it was just their version of another warning shot.” I wonder if I should talk about moving. I know I should, but this doesn’t seem to be a conversation for right now. Tomorrow, maybe. I sense something more than a pulled muscle is bothering him.

“The actual warning shot cost me two hundred bucks. I’d say their point was already made.”

“Sorry, Sam.”

“Not your fault.” He stands up and kisses me, light and gentle. “Your hair’s wet.”

“Keep doing that, it won’t be the only thing.”

“Gwen.”

I kiss the corner of his mouth. “Dinner,” I tell him. “Then we figure out what we’re going to do.”

Before I can even broach the subject at dinner, Lanny’s all over it. “Mom, comeon, who were those people? The old people?”

Sam looks at me, and I look at him. He shrugs. And he’s right, of course; I can’t protect my kids anymore by keeping things from them. “Remember the folks who might have put the rattlesnake in our mailbox?” I ask her.

“Ohshit,” she says. I give her a look. “Crap. Whatever. The Hillbilly Mafia?”

“They want us gone from Stillhouse Lake.”

“Why?” Connor asks.

I remember Lilah Belldene’s words.Not personal.But it was, and is, deeply personal. It always is when my kids are involved. “Same reason people in Norton don’t like us. We bring too much attention.”

“Mom?” My son’s put away his sunglasses, and his bruised eyes make me wince. The swelling’s not so bad, at least. “Maybe it’s also what I did. Hank Charterhouse is hurt pretty bad.”

“Who’s Hank Charterhouse?” Sam asks.

“One of the kids Connor hit. Also, first cousin to the Belldenes,” Lanny says. “I mean, everybody in town knows that’s why Hank gets away with stuff.”

The idea that Connor’s also someone they may hold a grudge against is unsettling, and it raises my hackles high.Don’t you dare come for my kids.

Melvin Royal tried coming for our kids. Melvin Royal is rotting in a cardboard coffin in a pauper’s grave, marked only with a number. I did that.

The Belldenes ought to take a lesson.

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