"For two years." The admission feels like pulling out a splinter—painful but necessary. "In Vancouver, before I came here."
"You've never mentioned her. Not once."
"I try not to think about that time." I shift, trying to find a comfortable position that doesn't exist. "I was different then. Stupid. Reckless."
She sits in the chair beside the bed, still holding my hand, expression guarded. "Go on."
"I was deep in the street racing scene. Vanessa was part of that world—beautiful, dangerous, exciting. We got married after knowing each other six months." I shake my head at my own foolishness. "What I didn't know was that her brother Ric ran one of the biggest chop shops in Vancouver. Vanessa brought me in, said it was easy money."
"And was it?" Sandra's voice is carefully neutral.
"At first." Shame burns in my gut at the memories. "I was good at it. Could strip a car in record time, rebuild engines to spec. The racing was just for show, for reputation. The real money was in stolen parts."
I watch her face for judgment, disgust, anything that would tell me this is the end. Instead, I see only focused attention, the same expression she wears when learning something new about engines.
"For a year, it was... good. I had money, respect, Vanessa." I swallow against the bitterness rising in my throat. "Then things changed. Ric wanted to expand, got involved with some seriously bad people. It wasn't just cars anymore. Guns. Drugs. I wanted out, but Vanessa was all in—family loyalty and all that."
"What happened?" Sandra prompts when I fall silent.
"I started skimming. Setting aside money, planning my exit." The monitor betrays my accelerating heart rate as I approach the worst part of the story. "I almost had enough to disappear when Ric found out. He... he wasn't happy."
Sandra's grip on my hand tightens. "Did he hurt you?"
"Worse. He set me up to take the fall for a job gone wrong. Police raid, evidence planted in my garage." The familiar anger burns, though duller now with time and perspective. "Vanessa could have warned me. She knew what her brother was planning. Instead, she watched them put me in handcuffs."
"How did you avoid prison?" Sandra's brow furrows.
"Old friend on the force. Officer Reid. He'd been trying to build a case against Ric for years." The irony still isn't lost on me. "Offered me a deal—tell everything I knew about Ric's operation in exchange for immunity."
"You took it?"
"Yeah. I was looking at fifteen years otherwise." I meet her eyes directly. "I testified. Ric got twenty-five to life. The organization collapsed. And I became a marked man in Vancouver."
Understanding dawns in her expression. "So that's why you came to Crimson Hollow. You were running."
"Not just running. Starting over." I gesture weakly at the hospital room. "And doing pretty well at it until now."
"But why is Vanessa here after five years? And what does she want that got you..." Sandra gestures at my battered body.
"Ric's up for parole next month. Surprise, surprise, they're claiming he's reformed." My laugh is bitter and painful. "Vanessa wants me to recant my testimony, say I lied under pressure from the police. Without my testimony, he walks."
"And if you don't?"
"She knows where I live now. Who my friends are." My eyes lock with hers, the unspoken message clear. Who I care about. "Tonight was a warning. Next time, it won't be just me who gets hurt."
Sandra's expression hardens. "So she threatened you, and when you refused, she had someone run you down with a car? That's attempted murder!"
"That's Vanessa." I close my eyes briefly, exhaustion washing over me. "I don't have proof it was her. The driver was someone I've never seen before. Professional."
"We need to go to the police," Sandra insists.
"And tell them what? That my criminal ex-wife from another city might have hired someone to hurt me because I won't helpher brother get out of prison?" I shake my head. "Parker would try, but there's nothing to investigate. No evidence."
"Then what's your plan?" Her voice sharpens with frustration. "Let her terrorize you? Us?"
"I don't know yet." The admission costs me. I always have a plan, always know what comes next. "I just... I need time to think."
Sandra stands abruptly, pacing the small room. "This is insane. Five years you've been here, building a life, and she just shows up and thinks she can destroy everything?" She turns back to me, eyes blazing. "No. I won't let her."
