Until You (The Redemption, #1)(19)

I watch Tanya head in Jess’s direction as I draw in a deep breath and take in the scene around me. There are pods of people working on projects. Vendor sponsorships, town decorations, carnival booth ideas, and the list goes on and on. Per Bobbi Jo, we are in the assessing phase of planning. What do we have? What do we need? What do we want?

Once we figure those three things out, we can go from there.

Lucky for me, I’m in the envelope stuffing phase where I can put my head down and avoid as much local gossip as possible.

Or rather, doing something that would make me become the local gossip.

Which is why I kept the bouquet of wild daisies I found on my front porch this morning to myself.

No doubt they were from the girls, and no doubt Alma could have spun a little tidbit like that into a whole damn love affair that doesn’t exist simply because she could.

But those flowers . . . they brightened my day and made me think way too much about our non-dinner, dinner. The whole thing is silly really—the me thinking about it more than I should part—because it’s not like it was the first time I’d ever had a disaster of an evening.

But it’s still on my mind—Crew and the girls are still front and center—because it got me here. Out in the public. Pushing me out of my comfort zone that I’ve been hiding in for the past two years.

No one here knows the truth about who I am or anything about my past. I’m just Tennyson West, the anti-social book editor who lives in the cottage out on old Ian Madden’s farm because she decided she wanted a slower-paced, quieter life than the one she had in New York City.

And yet the doubt is always there in the back of my mind. The fear of being found out is a constant thought.

The reassurances I’ve been given can’t fully erase my knowledge of the power, the influence, and the thirst for revenge that Kaleo has—even when he thinks I’m dead.

We were a couple who lived in the public eye. Our faces were known to many—for good and bad. The change in my hair color can’t exactly erase what I physically look like or who I am. A change in location, a change in name, can’t alter that.

And so, I’ve lived my life since that day on the yacht years ago, constantly looking over my shoulder. Always wondering. Competently knowing that even from behind bars, Kaleo still calls the shots over his empire. What deals to make. What orders to be completed. What hits to make.

My hope is that in time, the worry and fear will dissipate and that I’ll be able to live a normal life just like everybody else in this gym.

Normal.

Wouldn’t that be something?

The thought stays with me as I finish my envelopes and am bidding everyone goodbye for the afternoon, trying to find a way to extricate myself from getting roped into going out for cocktails like everyone is talking about doing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” Bobbi Jo asks, lips in full pout.

“No. Thank you.” I’ve already stepped out of my comfort zone enough today. “I’d love to, but like I said, I already have plans tonight.”

“Oooohhhh.” Her eyes fire with mischief, the implication that I have a date hangs in the air.

“Not those kinds of plans.”

“Oh.” Another pout followed by a wink. “Too bad. Those are the best kinds of plans. But don’t you worry. I’m not taking no for an answer. We’ll get you out with us. Then we’ll ply you with drinks till you spill all your secrets so we can know you better.”

Not a chance in hell.

“Sounds like a plan.” I hook my purse over my shoulder in a show to prove I’m really not budging. “I’m sure you will all have a great time.”

The change in my routine, the different scenery than my normal cottage, was more welcome than I had anticipated. At the same time, I didn’t realize how much I felt like I was being held under a microscope while stuffing envelopes until I step out of the community center.

Everyone is just curious about me—the woman who has lived here for two years but who has preferred to remain on the outskirts of the community—and it seems, excited that I’m helping. I get that. I understand that. But it doesn’t mean that it has made the furtive glances any less noticeable.

But I did my deed and now with each step I take distancing myself from them, I feel like I can breathe a little easier. Like I can relax a bit more.

Silly, but true.

Redemption Falls is beautiful. I’ll definitely give it that. Perfectly plotted flowerbeds teeming with different colors line the street. Sandwich boards dot the sidewalk announcing sales or specials for the day. Ornate light posts are set every so often. Banners hang from them announcing a town event, the high school athletes celebrated for the week, and town businesses.

It’s the definition of quaint and idyllic.

A place many would dream of calling home. Home? Is that what Redemption Falls is to me? Has it become that for me yet?

I’m not sure. Bits and pieces of it feel like it at times. And at others, not so much. But all I know is that while its small-town quirks have taken some time to get used to, I think I can definitively say I am happy.

And after the shit I’ve been through, that’s more than enough for me.





CHAPTER EIGHT


Crew




“Girls. You do remember we’re going to be here for the next four months, right? There’s no need to go into every single shop—”