Page 63 of Chasing Wildflowers
Jameson brings the car to a stop and cuts the engine. “My parents' house in Maine.”
I glance around again, spotting a black pickup and a blue SUV parked in the driveway. “Why are we at your parents’ house?” I ask, voice cautious.
He turns in his seat, his eyes dark and unwavering. “Because my stepdad can help us figure out who’s after you.”
Unease creeps up my spine and my eyes narrow into slits. “How can he help us?”
Jameson glances at Miles, who shakes his head, before turning his attention back to me. He lets out a sharp breath. “He’s a retired FBI agent.”
“What?!” Kam and I demand, our voices melting together.
I glance around, panic clawing up my throat, making my chest tighten until I feel like a caged animal. Did he set me up? Is he going to turn me in?
“Real smooth,” Miles deadpans before getting out of the car, the door slamming with a sharp thud thatechoes off the windows. My eyes trail after him as he rounds the back of the car, the trunk popping open.
“Lane,” Jameson murmurs softly, drawing my attention back to him. “Nothing is going to happen to you. You are safe here. He’s going to help us find who is after you. You have my word.”
My eyes narrow, anger seeping into my veins. “Your word doesn’t mean shit to me.”
He lets out a defeated breath, his shoulders slumping. “I know you hate me right now, but please just let me make this right. Let me keep you safe.”
Can I really trust him to keep me safe after shattering my heart with his lies? The question burns in my chest, but the truth is, I don’t have much of a choice. If he’d planned to hand me over he would have already done so.
“I don’t have a choice.” My voice sharp and cold, each word cutting like ice.
His eyes flicker with pain, his voice raw with emotion. “Let’s go inside. Vic is waiting for us.” He holds my gaze for a brief moment, then slips out of the car, the door closing softly behind him.
My heart squeezes again, the look in his eyes, almost breaking my resolve. Until I remember that he lied to me. That my whole life could very well be over. Because of him.
“Are you doing okay?” Kam asks, her hand still wrapped tightly around mine.
I shake my head, holding back the tears that threaten to spill over. “Not even a little bit, but I refuse to break in front of him.”
“I’ve got you.”
Her words steady me, and I take a deep breath. I let go of Kam’s hand, squaring my shoulder, and push the door open, stepping out to face my new reality. The gravel crunches beneath my boots as we follow Jameson and Miles across a stone walkway to the front porch. A man waits in the doorway, his posture relaxed and welcoming.
He looks to be in his late sixties, with brown hair that has gone mostly gray and piercing blue eyes.
He pulls Miles and Jameson into a hug as soon as they clear the top step. “I’ve missed you boys.”
Jameson steps back and looks over Vic’s shoulder into the house. “Where’s mom?”
He leads us into the house, holding the door open. “She’s away for the weekend with her friend Samantha, but she will be back tomorrow sometime.” He gives Jameson a sympathetic look. “I had to call and tell her you were coming.”
Jameson nods, his movements stiff. He gestures to me and Kam. “Vic, this is Lane and her friend Kam.”
Vic’s lips curl into a warm smile. “Nice to meet you both, though I wish it were under happier circumstances.” His gaze flicks from the bags in our hands to Miles. “Take their bags up to the Lavender Room.”
I frown; not just at the fact the room has a name, but at what that name is. Vic catches my expression and shrugs. “My wife’s doing. But it makes her happy, so who am I to say no?”
I just nod as Miles takes my bag, there’s nothing else I can do. The exhaustion, fear, and heartbreak press down on me all at once, heavy and inescapable.
Vic, noticing my state, gives me a knowing look. “Why don’t you and Kam follow Miles upstairs and get settled in? Maybe get some rest? When you wake up, we can talk about what’s going on.”
I give him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”
I turn to follow Miles up the stairs, but Jameson grabs my hand, stopping me. “Can we please talk, Wildflower?”
