"Erin, it's me."
"Sloane?" she gasps, and I think for a moment she'll scream. "Oh my God, where the hell have you been? Everyone's looking for you. They think you're dead!"
Her voice is loud, frantic. I press the phone closer to my ear and lower my voice. "I know. I'm sorry. I couldn't—my phone got destroyed, and I've been…"
"Where are you?"
"Erin, listen. Someone drugged me, and there was this man—Dane—and he won't let me leave because someone's targeting him, and they used me to do it, and?—"
"Jesus Christ." Her breath hitches. "Sloane, you need to call the police. Right now."
"I can't, Erin. Around here, people think I'm the problem. I just need to get back to New York and file a police report?—"
"Are you insane? The cops think you're dead. Girl, go to the sheriff or whoever and tell them some psycho has you."
I pause, biting the inside of my cheek. Dane's not a psycho, and if I tell Sheriff Carver, that's what he'll think too, that Dane took me and drugged me and worse. And that's not what I want to happen to Dane. He's taken care of me so far, and that night… Well, it might've just been sex, but it was incredible sex, andmaybe I don’t want his past to crash in on him any more than I want mine catching up with me.
"Sloane, oh my God, are you there? Are you listening to me?" Erin snaps, but my eyes catch movement at the front of the diner.
The door swings open, and Dane strides in with heavy footsteps, tracking a layer of snow onto the linoleum. His face is a storm—jaw clenched, eyes locked on me. He's holding a box under one arm, wrapped in brown paper, and his gaze drops to the phone in my hand.
"Sarah," he calls, and I instantly hear the anger in his tone. "What are you doing?"
My stomach drops. I clutch the phone tighter, my pulse hammering in my ears. "I'm just?—"
"Who are you calling?" he growls.
Ellie glances between us but her smile is fading. "Everything okay?"
"Fine," Dane says, not taking his eyes off me. "Sarah, we're leaving."
"I'm not done with breakfast." My eyes flick over to the plate of cold eggs as I slowly swipe across the screen to end the call and feel my heart leap up into my chest. I'm not stupid. I know calling Erin was a mistake. I knew it the instant I heard her voice. Now they know I’m not dead, and while that's a good thing for my family, it means Dane won't just have a madman after him. He'll also have the cops looking. He'll be furious.
"Yes, you are."
Dane crosses the diner and pries the phone from my hand before handing it back to Ellie. "Sorry about that. She's been under a lot of stress lately."
I stare at him, and my blood's boiling. He's lying to her, smoothing this over yet again as if I'm some unstable woman he needs to manage. But what can I say? That he's holding me prisoner? That I'm terrified and desperate and don't know who to trust?
And that would drag Ellie into this mess she doesn’t need to be in at all. I'm the fool for thinking I could just have a taste of my normal life, and he's the jerk for making me feel so alone the past week that I felt the need to reach out to someone for comfort. He fucking lives in the same house as me but refuses to interact.
"Come on," he says, his hand on my lower back, guiding me toward the door, and I can't even resist in front of Ellie who stares at us with wide eyes.
But the moment we're outside, the cold air hitting my face, I round on him. "I didn't even fucking pay for those eggs yet. You had no right?—"
"Get in the truck."
"I'm not getting in the truck until you tell me what the hell you think you're doing!"
He shoves the box into my arms. "Read the label."
I look down at the box and let my shoulders sag. The handwriting is the same as all the others, with Dane's name and no return address. It's a scalding reminder of exactly why he hasn't let me go back to New York and why I've chosen to respect that decision and stay here. It feels like a slap in the face.
My throat tightens. "Another one."
"Another one," he confirms. "And you were about to tell your friend exactly where we are. Do you have any idea what you almost did?"
"I want to go home, Dane." I slowly look up at his eyes, and I see compassion there as his voice softens and he responds.
