The typing bubbles appear immediately, and I’m glad Collin is available. With his schedule and the time difference, we’ve been playing phone tag.
Collin Davenport
The messy kind. The kind of footage someone should’ve reported.
Collin Davenport
Leo can give some of his recollections, but we still need more proof, which I’m searching for.
What happens if he finds what we’re looking for first?
This time, the pause stretches, and I’m afraid Collin isn't going to answer.
Collin Davenport
Keep the positivity, Wren. You’re working with the best. Ignore his calls and texts. We’re keeping a record on our end.
I set the phone down, taking another long sip of my drink. It soothes the chill that skates over my skin.
My stomach sinks as another message pings.
Collin Davenport
He’s scared and scared people do desperate things. Stay safe. I’ll be in contact soon.
Stay safe. What the hell? My pulse spikes as the hair on the back of my neck rises. My gaze trails over the property where shadows dance in the rain from the wind and lightning streaks across the black sky. The only light is the glow from my living room lamp, shining through the window.
A large crack of thunder startles me, and then—darkness.
The lamp cuts off in unison, leaving only the soft flicker of two candles I lit earlier. My breaths come in short, shallow pants, but before I can settle my racing heart, a shrill alarm pierces the quiet night. I nearly drop the glass in my hand as I fumble for my phone.
TORNADO WARNING MARSHALL COUNTY.
SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY.
Shit. Shit. Shit.I was too invested in my drama to notice the shift in pressure. I can practically feel the storm nearing, and there’s no time for an escape. Gathering up my glass and phone, I whip open the screen door and slam the heavy front door shut. I flip on the flashlight on my phone as I rush through the house, blowing out the candles in the living room. Ribbons of smoke curl frantically, matching my mood. The last thing I need is a house fire if a tornado hits the cottage.
Grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and my Kindle from the coffee table, I rush to the bathroom underneath the staircase. My feet patter across the plank floors, the sound triggering me to grab a pair of tennis shoes sitting by the steps. Shadows lurch and follow my every movement, creating more terror in my already manic state.
Okay, Wren, you’re fine,I keep telling myself as I move into the small bathroom. I light a few candles on the wooden stool next to the claw-foot bathtub, ones I can easily blow out if I need to. Climbing into the tub, I pull the blanket over my body and sink deeper against the cool cast iron, the sides pressing against my hips as I shelter in its strong walls.
Rain thrums on the metal roof, louder and louder as the wind howls around the tiny cottage. I beg the walls to hold steady and keep me safe.
I scroll through my conversation with Collin. My thumb hovers over the screen, reading over his final message.He’s scared and scared people do desperate things. Stay safe. I’ll be in contact soon. Collin Davenport is a shark. I hired him for his reputation. When I told him about my binding contract, he said “hold my beer and watch me work.” That confidence sealed the deal, and I was signing on the dotted line.
But if he’s telling me to be safe, how bad have things gotten in LA? What if Elias finds me? Am I safe here? Or have I put my family in harm’s way? If this case blows wide open, it’s going to be a media circus. How do I explain this?
Closing out of our message thread, I lock the screen and push it aside. Reaching for my Kindle, I decide to get distracted by the newest smutty small-town romance I saved earlier.
As I’m reading, fully immersed in the pages, I hear a sound, something I don’t think much of at first. But then I realize it’s the sound of the front door shutting. Did I lock it?
Heavy footsteps pound against the hardwood. Or at least I think they do… It might be the pounding of my racing heart.
Did Elias find me? There’s no way he could know where I’m staying. Right?
“Wren!”
A voice shouts through the cottage. Rough and sharp with panic.
