Page 67 of Soaring Free
Finn
Do we really think Shane could do this? Dude was never our favorite but this?
Jack
I don’t know, and I hate not knowing things.
Ryan
How is Savannah doing today?
Me
I saw her an hour ago, she seemed more mad than freaked out. But I think pissed off is a better place for her to be mentally than being fearful.
Liam
The only one that should be afraid is whoever is behind this.
Chapter forty
“We will be out on the patio, so if you need anything, we aren’t far,” Vivian tells my daughters and niece. The theater room in the basement is perfect for movie nights and the opening credits to one of their favorite princess movies just started on the floor-to-ceiling screen. Our girls each commandeered a recliner in the front row, tucked under their preferred blankets so they can get cozy, and I almost laugh at the little divas we’re raising. I’m not mad about it all, in fact, I’m quite proud of the standards we are setting for them. Vivian grabbed some of the girls’ favorite candy earlier today and I made their favorite pizza—plain cheese of course. My sister and I decided that if we were going to enjoy book club, then our girls should have a fun night too. Plus, any mama knows that things are easy to accomplish if your child is happily occupied. And in this case, we intend to accomplish discussing the enemies-to-lovers mafia romance we read in preparation of tonight’s meeting.
The girls barely notice us going back upstairs as the doorbell rings. I check the security camera and see it’s just Lauren and Willa. My heartrate calms a little once I know who it is. I don’t like not knowing who is at my house or near me. Things still feel off and I can’t quite put my finger on why. Tonight’s book club meeting was supposed to be at Willa’s, but she graciously understood when I requested to host it again at my house. I’m not comfortable most places these days, but it’s amplified outside of my home.
It’s been a very strange two weeks since my car was vandalized.
My brothers seem to constantly be stopping by, even more so than usual, and while Liam usually stays at Ryan’s when he’s in town, he damn near moved into my guesthouse while Walker and Vivian were on their honeymoon. Liam doesn’t have a house in Forrest Falls, but he’s been in town consecutively for longer than I can remember in recent years. I’m used to seeing my family often, but they’re handling me with kid gloves. I appreciate it—I know I’m lucky to have such a great family—but I’m also annoyed by the constant reminder that I’m not actually that okay.
At least not as okay as I try to pretend to be most days.
The vandalism really threw me for a loop and paired with the likely home invasion when the rose was placed in my bedroom, and the broken latch on my balcony door, I am uncomfortable. Every single day, I’m uncomfortable. I’m unsettled, overly cautious, and the only time I feel completely safe is when I’m wrapped in Theo’s arms.
Theo has spent the night a few times over the last two weeks, including the night we discovered the vandalism to my vehicle. Pippa came by the auto shop after Theo called her. She spoke to the Sheriff and was more than happy to have Gigi stay at her house for a sleepover. In addition to being an incredible attorney, she has a loving and softer side too, especially with her niece. We haven’t had a chance to talk much about her personal life; I do know she and her husband don’t have kids, but I get the impression they’re happy.
Although I don’t trust my judgment as much as I usually do, like I said, it’s been a weird two weeks.
I grab the charcuterie board and follow my sister out to the dining set on the patio. My next-door neighbor Stacy is pouring glasses of wine for everyone. “Don’t worry, Vivian, I brought what you really want!” She grins as she hands a large smoothie to my sister. Stacy made her something she calls a mama smoothie shortly after she got back from her honeymoon. Vivian loved it and was even able to keep it down. Thankfully, my sister’s morning sickness seems to be calming down, but she still loves Stacy’s smoothies.
“You’re the best!” Vivian claps her hands in glee before reaching for the drink and settling into a cushioned swivel chair along the table.
“Yes, I know. Lucky you!” Stacy winks as we laugh.
“Indeed! Oh, Sav, I forgot to tell you. Harlow sent me a text this morning and she had to go to DC for work. She apologizes for missing the meeting,” Vivian tells me. We knew that would happen when we invited Harlow to join us, but Vivian really likes her, and if Vivian takes someone under wing, then they’re under mine as well.
“She knows we will welcome her whenever she can make it. We aren’t going to be that strict about rules here,” I tell her.
“But we will be exclusive in who joins, right?” Stacy asks. “Except your attorney shark, I like her. She can join.”
“Obviously,” Willa chimes in with a raise of her glass. “I would request we continue being very exclusive in our membership requirements so we can read whatever the hell we want.” She grins but she’s not wrong. The wrong mix can ruin a book club lightning quick.
Willa has her long dark hair piled up in a messy bun and her dark brown eyes are framed by hot pink rimmed glasses. She wears her glasses on days that she reads a lot and as an editor for independent romance authors, she often reads a lot both for work and on her own. She started editing on the side as something to do even though her very generous divorce settlement ensured she would never need to work if she didn’t want to, but she discovered she loves working with indie authors. And they clearly love her—she has a wait list of at least a year. Willa started with a few clients, and I’m not sure if it was word of mouth or what, but somehow, she created the perfect mix of clients for what she wanted her business to look like, and she’s happy, which is all any of us wanted for her. Her twelve-year-old daughter, Charlotte, is with her douche canoe father this weekend—or more than likely her paternal grandmother and the nanny she hires.
Willa is one of my sister’s childhood best friends, and while I’ve always liked her, I never thought I’d end up forming our own close friendship outside of knowing her through my sister. Willa has been a godsend navigating my new reality of being a single mother, even if sometimes just to offer a voice of reason or understanding. While my sister was forced to become a single mother when her husband was murdered, there are elements of my journey she can’t fully understand, but Willa gets it. We both had men that chose something else over our marriages and lives together. Willa’s ex Bradley chose drinking, which in his case lead to him also choosing drugs and embezzlement, while my ex just wanted to be free from me. Although one very significant difference is that I have The Cavalry at my back, and Willa doesn’t really have anyone other than her friends. Her mother passed away when she was in college, and as an only child of a single mother, she’s had to stand on her own since the divorce. My sister’s group of friends is very close though, so Willa is never really alone, and now she can add me to the list of people that have her back.
After everyone has a plate of food to munch on, we dive into our discussion of our most recent read, and with the exception of Stacy, none of us expected the betrayal twist toward the end. “What can I say, I know how to read people. It’s why I usually don’t like them.” Stacy doesn’t mean to be funny but her statement cracks all of us up.
Before I know it, our time together wraps up and I realize that for the first time in two weeks, I went almost two and a half hours without worrying about all the bullshit going on in my life. But of course, as soon as I realize that while I’m wiping down the counters after cleaning up, my heartrate picks up and the worries come rushing back like a tidal wave, threatening to cascade over my entire being and pull me into its depths. I press my hands flat on the cold granite countertops to try and anchor myself before my anxiety and fear completely take hold. My mouth goes dry and I try to take a cleansing breath, but unfortunately, I don’t get a hold of it before small beads of sweat gather on my foreheadand my heart rate takes off like a stampede of horses running free.
