Into the Storm (Signal Bend #3)(77)

But Adrienne took it in stride. “He can ride with me. I don’t mind.”

That wasn’t a great idea. No one who was here this morning would add those details to the grapevine, but Adrienne driving around in that yellow Beetle—a Beetle!—with Badger riding along would get noticed.

Now that Shannon saw the resemblance, she knew everybody else would, and tongues would be wagging.

And Beth, Connie, and Steve had all been around for the fireworks with Show yesterday. All three would be talking. Gossip was Beth’s life force.

“Sure, you could do that. But this is a very small town, and people talk like crazy. There are more outsiders around these days, but you kinda stand out. Just…so you know. If you care about that.”

“Do you?”

Shannon thought about all the wagging tongues when this girl first became a part of her history. How they’d cut and gouged. How low she’d felt, how dirty and selfish and broken. She hated gossip. She hated the way it shaped people’s lives, and never for the better. People said ignore it, but it was impossible to ignore. It affected everything, everyone. There was no way to control it. The only thing to do was live despite it.

“No. I don’t. I just wanted you to know. I’ll tell him you want a tour. He’s a good kid. Then I’m going to head back, get a shower, take care of some things. Then we’ll talk, okay?”

Adrienne smiled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll just go get my bag. Thank you.”

“Of course.” After an awkward moment when neither of them knew what to do next, Shannon nodded and went back out to the porch, and Adrienne headed upstairs.

“Hey, Badge. I’m going to go back to my apartment and clean up. I think Adrienne—that’s her name, Adrienne—wants a tour of town. I told her you’d do that.”

Badge was clearly not thrilled with that plan. “I’m supposed to stay here and keep an eye on things.”

“Don’t you think it would be smarter to come off as her bodyguard rather than her captor? I know why Isaac told you to be here. He doesn’t trust her. But not letting her leave when she wants to is going to scare her.”

After a moment’s thought, Badge said, “I gotta call Isaac.” He stepped away and did so, then came back to her a minute later. “Okay. You’re staying put, right?”

“Yep. I promise.”

“Okay. Hey, Shannon? That’s your daughter?”

“Yes.” It was disorienting to acknowledge it so simply.

“She’s pretty. Looks just like you.”

“Behave yourself.” Shannon smiled and kissed Badger’s cheek, then went back inside. As she headed to her apartment, she heard the door open behind her, and she turned to see Adrienne going out.

She stood in the middle of her sitting room, buffeted by the memories of the past day. The half-eaten meal she and Show had made was still sitting on the counter. One of the stools there had been overturned when Keith had charged her. She put her hands to her throat with the memory.

She’d been in bed, under the covers, awake but not exactly conscious, when he’d started banging on her door that morning. She hadn’t understood why he was there, but she’d been too thick and muddled to be suspicious. She’d tried to ignore him, only because she was trying to ignore everything, but he wouldn’t stop. So she’d opened the door.

He’d pushed his way in, and before she’d even stopped backing up, he was telling her that her daughter was out in the parlor, waiting to meet her, and she needed to grow up and put this bad-boy fantasy behind her and return to him and her real life. That her past had caught up with her, and the time for hiding was over. That he would take care of her, she knew he’d take care of her, and she had nothing to fear. That she was being a child, but he loved her and he forgave her. That his patience had run out.





Everything he’d said was meant to be encouraging or loving or something, but it all came out domineering and condescending, and all she could think of is why the f*ck was he involved with her daughter? How had they become something she had to deal with together? So she’d asked.

Her daughter—Adrienne, her name was Adrienne, which felt strange, because she’d always been Emma to Shannon—had found Keith through the PI she’d hired. And Keith had talked to her, told her that he knew where her mother was and that he could help her make contact.

More than that, she didn’t yet know. She picked up the stool and put it to rights under the bar. Then she cleared the plates and beer bottles away, dumping the food in the sink and pushing it into the garbage disposal and then turning it on. She stared at the hole in the middle of the sink, the water running into it as the disposal churned and swallowed the stale meatloaf and rancid potato salad.

Show had left her yesterday, and, sure he was gone from her life in any way that mattered, and reeling from everything she’d said and relived, and the thought that her daughter was there in the inn, she’d fallen apart like she never had before. She barely remembered the rest of the day or the night.

She shook herself and turned off the disposal and faucet. After stacking the dishes in the sink and throwing the empty beer bottles in the bin underneath, she left the kitchen and headed to the bedroom.

With her head clearer—still not clear, but clearer—Shannon saw the rubble of her room. Her sanctuary.