Page 19 of Wrecked for Love
Batgirl Forever.
So, Miss Chili P was a fan of the superheroine. It made sense. Maybe she had more in common with Batgirl than I’d thought.She seemed tough, someone who could survive in her own world, whatever that world was.
A pang hit my chest, snaking its way down until it jabbed at my gut. Why was I suddenly thinking that even a superheroine could get in over her head? And why did I feel like I should’ve been the one to protect her from whatever dangers were lurking out there?
Claire had her secrets. That much was obvious. Part of me wanted to stay out of it, leave her to them. I wasn’t in the business of chasing after mysteries. Hell, I had enough of my own. But there was something about her, something beneath those layers of secrets, waiting to be uncovered. If I dared to look.
And that was the real problem. I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to know. Her license plate said Chicago, but she could’ve been from anywhere. Cincinnati? Philadelphia, maybe? She had that city vibe, but she could handle herself out here, no question. She knew cars inside and out, and hell, I didn’t doubt for a second she knew how to use her gun. She wasn’t overly tall, but there was a sturdiness about her, as though she’d seen her share of tough days. I couldn’t tell if those muscles were built from some fancy city gym or actual hard work. Probably the first. But then again, she wasn’t like anyone I’d ever known. Hell, for all I knew, she could’ve been from Detroit.
I dropped the necklace into an old tin, the kind of place where forgotten things end up. She had left without a backward glance—no chance she’d ever come back. I snapped the lid shut, the metal giving a hollow click, and the contents rattled as I slid it back on the shelf.
The silence swallowed the room. It was the usual stillness that filled this house every Sunday, but today, it felt off. That’s the paradox of people—you need them, even knowing that closeness invites loss. Claire hadn’t stayed long, and by mostmeasures, it wasn’t even what you’d call “closeness.” But she had left a mark.
My stomach broke the stillness with an earthquake-level growl. Good thing Claire wasn’t around to hear it. Even by ranch standards, it was loud. Boy, it was not even lunchtime, and I was already starving. I’d held back this morning, keeping my rancher-sized appetite in check. Didn’t want to look like a fool in front of her.
I wandered to the kitchen and threw together a sandwich. But something tugged at me. Before I knew it, I was back in front of the tin.
“Dammit,” I grumbled, digging through the odds and ends until I found the Batgirl necklace.
I stashed it in the coin pocket of my wallet—a spot as forgotten as the old tin. Who even uses coins these days? Still, I clung to the hope that I’d see her again, and when that day came, I’d return it. Koda watched from the corner, his head tilted in that all-too-familiar way. Probably thinking,Yeah, good luck with that!
“All right, pal,” I said to Koda. “Let’s get that walk in.”
He perked up, already looking like he was plotting how much mud he could collect.
As I laced up my boots, I decided. Claire wasn’t mine to figure out. But damn, if I didn’t already regret watching her drive off.
7
CLAIRE
Since the night I lost Cody, I learned how one moment could change everything. If someone had told me The Revenants would find me tomorrow, I would have believed it. If someone had warned me the NYPD would catch up with me, that I’d be behind bars by morning, I wouldn’t have questioned it. Those were the realities I had come to know—a constant thread of upheavals, the feeling of always looking over my shoulder. I knew what to expect.
But Elia?
He was something—or someone—I hadn’t prepared myself to believe. I’d always been one to take stock of the things I could trust: instincts, survival, the sharp edge of reality. But emotions? Losing control? That was the wild beyond the fences. Yes, Mother Nature had forced me to stay with him. Yet it was another kind of force that made me feel something I wasn’t sure I wanted to acknowledge—giddy, smitten, and caught somewhere between disbelief and surrender.
How does a woman decide what to believe? In the company of a man standing six-foot-two and broad-shouldered like a figure carved out of myth, it’s easy to fall into fantasy.
Elia was no Batman—Cody had always held that title for me, and he always would. But the way Elia made me feel…that was something different, something more unsettling.
I’d crossed paths with enough gorgeous men in my life, all helping me out in their own ways. Still, none of them—none—had made me feel the kind of safety I’d felt with Elia. Not when I was awake, and certainly not in my sleep.
When the nightmares gripped me, dragging me back to memories I’d rather leave buried, his touch had been steady, grounding. Even in the murky fog of fear, he felt real, solid, as tangible as his bare chest beneath my hands. Sweet mercy, nothing could’ve faked the warmth of his taut skin. I wanted to hold on, to let my fingers cling to him, but out of a caution I couldn’t shake, I let him go—or maybe even pushed him away.
Safety was a tricky thing, though. You couldn’t fabricate it just because there was a swarm of restless sparks in your belly. That gut feeling of security? That had been genuine, more true than anything I’d ever known.
And maybe that was what made this so hard to accept. In a life where I’ve had to question everything, where I couldn’t afford to let my guard down, this—he—felt true. And for the first time in a long while, I didn’t know whether to lean into that truth or run from it.
I kept driving around, taking in the sights. So this was Buffaloberry Hill. Despite the remnants of last night’s storm—the occasional puddle and broken branches scattered along the road—the town had a quiet, timeless beauty.
Elia’s farm, The Lazy Moose, sat just beyond the town’s edge, where ranches stretched for miles. The fields were sprinkled with wildflowers, their colors popping under the clear sky. Hills rolled in the distance, soft and inviting, while farms dotted the outskirts like friendly neighbors waving hello.
I followed the winding road into the heart of town, turning onto what looked like the main avenue. The buildings grew closer together, their facades lined with flower boxes, though last night’s storm had scattered petals across the sidewalks like confetti after a celebration.
A small gas station came into view, the one Elia had mentioned. There was no way I could’ve made it here in that storm. The thought of him giving up his bed for me, feeding me, and fixing my car stirred a faint tickle in my heart.
At the first stoplight, a warehouse-style building stood prominently. A hardware store. While most places were closed, either for Sunday or because of the storm, this one was busy. No surprise. Rough weather always left a mess to fix.
