14

John was startled but still held and comforted her as if she were Alice, even with the rifle in his hands. But she wasn’t Alice. Ms. Lily’s body pressed into his in a way that felt oddly familiar—soft and curving. Her trembling only heightened his reaction to her, though he didn’t understand why. He had no personal interest in Ms. Lily beyond the fact that she was his prisoner.

“You’re safe,” he assured her, gently stroking her tangled hair.

“Is… is the hog dead?”

“Yes.”

She buried her face against his shoulder. “Where… where’s…?”

“Tosin?”

She gave a small nod.

“My deputy is taking him back to jail. Are you okay?”

With a sudden burst of anger, she pushed away from him. “Do I look okay? I’m covered in dirt from head to toe. Mosquitoes the size of 747s have chewed me alive. My arms and face are scratched up, and my wrists have burns from the rope. That…that man…”

Ms. Attitude was back with a vengeance. Still, he had to sympathize with what she'd been through.

“More like the size of a small Cessna,” he muttered.

“What?” She blinked, caught off guard.

"The size of a little Cessna, perhaps?"

"What?" She blinked.

"She slapped one off her arm. “I beg to differ.” She scrubbed at her skin furiously. “I can still feel that man’s disgusting touch. And honestly? I’d take the mosquitoes over him any day.”

John’s chest tightened with a twinge of guilt. “Did he hurt you?” The question carried the weight of his own failure—he was supposed to keep her safe.

“Of course, he hurt me! He dragged me out of my cell, refused to let me go, tied my hands, and threatened to shoot me. He’s completely unhinged! I’m suing you and this entire incompetent town for every penny it’s worth.”

That struck John the wrong way. Yes, his department had failed her, but she wasn’t entirely blameless either. She wasn’t as much of a victim as she wanted to believe.

“You encouraged him.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“You told him you wanted out of jail. Tosin isn’t exactly a genius, in case you haven’t noticed. He thought he was granting your wish—figured you’d be grateful.”

“I never asked him to break me out!” she shouted, her voice cutting through the trees.

“What did you ask him?”

She shoved her tangled hair away from her face, eyes blazing. “I’m done talking to you. If you have something to say, you can go through my lawyer.”

“Fine,” he shot back. “I’ve been waiting over twelve hours for someone to arrange your bail, but guess what? No one’s shown up. Care to explain why?”

Even in the dim light, he could tell her glare was fierce. Without waiting for a response, he shoved his rifle into its scabbard, planted a boot in the stirrup, and swung himself onto the saddle.

“I’m heading back to Horseshoe. You coming?”

“Like I have a choice.”

John pulled his boot from the stirrup and extended a hand. After a brief hesitation, she took it, and he hauled her stubborn self up behind him.

That’s when she spotted the dead boar, its dark blood pooling from its throat. “Oh, gross.” She quickly turned her head away.

With a nudge of his knee, the horse took off.

John followed the river, then veered west toward the Machi’s property. Neither of them spoke. She clung to his waist a little tighter than he would’ve liked, but he let it slide. Silence suited him just fine when it came to Ms. Lily.

Her head bobbed against his back. "Don't fall asleep," he warned "You might drop off."

“I’m just so tired,” she mumbled, her usual sharp edge dulled by exhaustion.

“So, you’re talking to me now?”

“Yes. But I’m still suing you.”

“Go ahead. I don’t have much, and Holbrook is dirt poor. You wouldn’t get much out of it.”

“I’d get revenge.”

“Would that make you happy?”

“Damn right. Ever since you arrested me, my life’s been a nightmare.”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault you were speeding, breaking the law, and putting lives at risk?”

“You didn’t have to lock me up.”

“You tried to bribe me.”

Silence. No snarky comeback this time.

“When are you going to take responsibility for your actions instead of blaming everyone else?”

The question hit harder than she expected—harder than any mosquito bite. The right answer was ‘Right here, right now’, but there was no way in hell she was giving the sheriff that satisfaction. And yet… she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he had a point.

But it didn’t matter. Henry would get her out of this mess, just like always. She’d never have to see this man again. That had been her way of handling things her whole life—avoid, escape, move on. Only this time, her conscience wouldn’t shut up