Page 87 of Chasing Wildflowers
Because Lane is safe.
And there’s no one else coming for her.
Thirty-seven
Lane
Five months later…
I smile at my reflection in my mirror as I carefully apply my makeup, the steam of my shower still hanging in the air, mixing with the floral scent of my perfume. Today is my first day at my new job, a women’s shelter in the city. My stomach flutters with nerves, the good kind. I’m ready.
After being kidnapped and almost murdered, I started really thinking about what I wanted my future to look like. I wanted to be more than just a bartender. I wanted to help people. I just wasn’t sure how. Until Jameson and I were visiting his parents over Christmas, and Mama C suggested working at a woman’s shelter.
It was perfect.
The day after we flew home, I started applying at shelters around the area. A few called me for interviews,but the second I walked into Safe Haven, I knew it was where I belonged. The best part? It’s in the city, just a few blocks away from Jameson and Miles’ new office. Meaning we get to start and end our days together.
Last week, I served my last drink atThe Broken Bottle. It was a bittersweet moment. I’ll miss it, that place became a second home. But if the past year taught me anything, it’s that you can’t be afraid to take chances.
Jameson steps up behind me, his reflection filling the mirror as I swipe lipstick across my lips. He looks sinfully good in a pair of dark wash jeans and a forest green T-shirt. Tattoos on full display, just the way I like.
His eyes roam from my blue jeans to my plum T-shirt, all the way up to my lips painted a nude pink. “I can’t wait to wreck that lipstick when we get home tonight,” he murmurs, voice low and rough, his gaze holding mine.
I turn to face him, tilting my head back until our eyes meet. “You are insatiable.”
His thumb drifts across my bottom lip, a featherlight touch that sends sparks through my veins. “Who woke up who this morning with their mouth?”
“Are you complaining?” I ask, catching his thumb between my teeth.
“Never.” His lips tilt into a slow smile as he pulls his hand away. “I have something for you.”
He pulls a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and hands it to me.
I unfold it, and my world tilts.
It’s a death certificate.
Ceciley Knox.
Date of death: the same day as Byron’s.
I blink at the paper, not believing what’s right in front of my eyes. My throat tightens, a peace like I have never known falling over me. The weight I’ve carried for years lifts all at once, leaving me raw, light, and reeling. Ceciley is gone. Dead. Buried on paper and in the past. No one will ever look for her again.
Because of Jameson.
I look up, voice barely above a whisper, tears brimming in my eyes, threatening to ruin my mascara. “How?”
He swipes his thumb under my eye, brushing away my tears. A slow, easy smile curling his lips. “I asked Vic to call in one last favor for me. I didn’t want you to ever have to worry again.”
“I love you so fucking much,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around him, my face buried in his chest.
His arms lock around me, solid and safe. “I love you too. Now, are you excited for today?”
I love that he doesn’t ask if I’m nervous or ready. He already knows.
“I’m so fucking excited.”
He gives me a quick kiss before taking my hand, linking our fingers together. “Then let's get you to your first day, Wildflower.”
