A flicker of understanding crossed over Kalen's features.
“I was ten years old, and I destroyed my brother's life.” Hadley allowed genuine pain to color her words. “Sometimes, I think I deserve punishment for what I did. Sometimes, I think I don't deserve love.”
Kalen processed her words, his expression cycling between suspicion and desperate hope. The gun lowered slightly more.
“What are you trying to say?”
“I'm saying maybe I could be your companion instead of Missy,” Hadley said, her voice steady despite the lie. “Look at her. She doesn't appreciate what you've tried to do for her, does she?”
Kalen’s focus switched to Missy, who remained unnaturally still on her cot. Before he could figure out that such a scenario could never truly take place, Hadley continued to offer him hope.
“I'm a woman who's been carrying guilt for almost twenty years,” Hadley whispered as she put most of her weight on her right leg. She then shifted her left foot forward as subtly as possible. “Maybe this is my penance. Maybe this is also my chance at being loved. Did your father love your mother?”
Kalen's desperate need for a connection made him vulnerable to her deception, and she would exploit his weakness if it meant ending this situation. Unfortunately, she might have pushed a little too hard.
“Do you think I'm stupid?”
“No, Kalen. I think you’re lonely…like me.”
“But…you said the sheriff is waiting for you.”
“Yes, Sheriff Turner is expecting me to report back. We could make a deal that works for both of us, though.” Hadley stood still for a moment, her decision reminding her of an afternoon whenMason had taken her fishing. He’d instructed her to stare at the bobber until it jiggled on the water. The second it was yanked under, she was to pull the pole up with all her might. “Kalen, I know how hard it is to go through life alone. Why should we do that when the answer is right in front of us?”
Kalen tilted his head in contemplation as he stared at her.
The bobber had finally moved, sending subtle waves across the top of the water.
“I take Missy to the sheriff, but I tell him I saw Ty Hobbs' truck outside. I frame him for everything.” Hadley inched forward carefully as the suggestion took root. “The evidence already points to the Hobbs family. Allen lied, claiming Ty was at Buffalo River. It would be easy to make everyone believe Thomas and Ty were the guilty parties.”
Hadley had somehow lost the bait.
“I didn't mean to hurt Ty,” Kalen confessed, his voice rising in anger. The firearm followed, but she didn’t take a step back. “He came by with a casserole, as I said. I didn’t know that he followed me here. I panicked, and I...”
“Kalen, I can’t help until I know everything. Where is Ty now?”
Kalen’s gaze slowly drifted to the only other door in the cabin besides the one he guarded, but she made no move to cross the room. If she strayed from the connection she’d worked so hard to build, she didn’t doubt that Kalen would squeeze the trigger.
“Is Ty alive?”
Kalen slowly nodded his response. He was focusing a bit too much on Missy right now, and reality was starting to edge its way back in. Hadley took another calculated half-step closer, keeping her movements slow and deliberate.
“This can work, Kalen,” Hadley pressed, her voice taking on a confidential tone. “It’s perfect. Who is the sheriff going to believe? Me or Ty? It won’t matter if he denies everything. Ican convince the sheriff that Ty is responsible. You can see for yourself that Missy isn’t going to say anything. She wasn’t strong enough for you, Kalen. Not like me.”
“You'd really stay?” His voice was almost childlike in its naked hope.
“I haven’t tried to escape, have I? I believe that we were meant to meet like this.” Hadley noted how his weapon lowered further, as if the weight of her words was a blanket of reassurance. “What would your father advise you right now? Wouldn't he want you to be careful but also to seize this opportunity?”
“Dad said to always trust my instincts.”
“And what are your instincts telling you?”
Hadley was now close enough that if he were to raise his weapon, the barrel would be able to touch her once again. She could only hope that he wouldn’t notice the erratic pulse in her throat or the sheen of perspiration across her upper lip. She forced a smile into what she hoped conveyed tenderness.
“That you understand.” The firearm was now pointed toward the floorboards. “That you're different from the others.”
Hadley shed the last scrap of hesitation.
She was different from the others.
