Brittany goes still. “She knows?”
“Yeah.”
That takes some of the steam out of her anger, but not much. She’s still looking for something to grab and break.
“I could call the cops,” she says sudden, chin lifting.
I push off the doorframe and step onto the porch. “You can,” I tell her.
Her eyes snap to mine. She was expecting a fight.
“Call ’em,” I continue. “Tell ’em I kidnapped you. They’ll come out here, take statements, maybe even haul me in if they’re bored enough.”
She swallows.
“But they ain’t gonna keep you safe from Pearly Gates,” I finish, quieter.
The words land. They always do.
Holler sets the rest of the supplies down. “Brit,” he says, voice gentler now. “I wouldn’t steer you wrong. I got a kid at home. I don’t gamble with shit like this.”
She looks between us, weighing something.
“And I promise,” Holler adds, glancing at me, “this idiot’s got good intentions. Even if he executes ’em like a caveman.”
I snort.
Brittany exhales hard and puts a hand on her hip. “I’m still pissed.”
“You’re allowed,” Holler says.
She looks at me. “Are you coming back?”
The question catches me off guard.
“Yeah,” I answer. “I’ll check on you.”
She crosses her arms. “I don’t know if I’m staying put.”
I step closer but keep distance between us. “Stay put.”
“That ain’t an order you get to give.”
“No,” I agree. “It’s a request.”
Holler glances back toward open water. “Legend’s looking for you,” he tells me. “Search party’s moving west side of the treeline.”
“Yeah.”
He climbs back into the boat. “Don’t keep him waiting. He’s already wound tight.”
I follow. We pull off, engine rattling again, and Brittany stands there with her arms folded, staring at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” I tell her.
She laughs once. “You first.”
I leave her there.
