“How would you know, you old fool? You’ve never lived on R&R Road,” Chief grumbles.
“I know ’cause I know,” Pops fires back.
“Hush.” Chief waves a hand at us both and my mouth snaps closed. “Point is, I’ve been watching that girl pine after a lostlove for years. Letters, poems, the whole doggone sad mess. If you’re who she’s been waiting for, you’d better be ready to fight off whatever’s coming for her.”
Leaning my forearms on the table, I ask, “What makes you think something’s coming for her?”
Another flash—weaker this time, like a radio signal cutting in and out.
The smell of grass and tree bark. A feeling of…urgency, of needing to tell her something important.
Then static. Nothing. Gone before I can grasp it.
They both stare at me as though I’ve sprouted a second head.
“Son,” Chief says quietly, while also assessing my mental capacity for this conversation, I’m sure. “That girl checks her locks more than a bank teller counts money. Something’s been coming for her since the day she got here. We’ve just been waiting for it to show its face.”
“Mornings are the worst,” Pops adds. “That’s when the…” He leans in and stage-whispers, “The packages first started arriving. She tries to hide it, even from her friends, but we see how her hands shake. She hates leaving the house too early now.”
Chief nods, his expression softening. “She thinks she’s been hiding by keeping us all on the periphery, but we see her. If you’re not what’s chasing her, then maybe you’re the one she’s been waiting for—the one who can finally help.”
He slides a plate of eggs and bacon in front of me. “Eat up. You’re going to need your strength.”
“For what?”
He grins, and there’s something fatherly in it. “For Happiness, son. This town’s about to adopt you, whether you like it or not. And later, I’m makin’ sure Clover does her self-defense training.”
“Who’s training her?”
He stands to his full height, and I get the feeling he’s weighing how much trouble it would cause if he decked me.
With a haughty tone, he rocks back on his heels and declares, “Me. I’m the best there is.”
Both men watch me expectantly, and I realize I may be woefully unprepared for this mission.
CHAPTER FIVE
CLOVER
Stress-cleaning my kitchen is not as relaxing as the famous influencer made it seem. Now I’m keyed up and possibly high from the weird mix of baking soda and vinegar—and I smell like a french fry.
It’s because the house is too quiet.
Normally, Savvy is next door boxing to Eminem by now.
Today, it’s…silent.
Even with the lights blazing, shadows seem to press against the windows. I keep glancing at the back door, certain I heard something scrape against the porch a few minutes ago. It’s probably a tree branch. Or a cat. Probably.
I’m about to drop the sponge into the bucket of water when someone pounds on my front door as though they’re trying to knock it down.
My heart tap dances its way into my throat. I stand frozen, every muscle locked, and the sponge falls from my hand with a wet slap as I mentally seek out potential hiding spots.
Grounding. That’s what I need.
Glancing around my kitchen, I breathe in the scent of coffee grounds and vinegar. Touch the bright teal hand towel that’s always slightly askew. Listen to the low hum of the refrigerator.
But now my coping mechanisms feel like a cage I keep reinforcing, even though I’m alone, safe in my isolation, exactly as I planned.
