Until You (The Redemption, #1)(40)

“Databases can be hacked. They can—”

“And if they are, what will be found are images of the mangled car, autopsy photos of charred remains, dental records confirming that person died.”

Chills blanket my skin as they do every time I think of my death being documented like this.

“His reach is endless, Peter. We both know that.”

“It’s only endless if he thinks that person is still alive—and to the rest of the world, she’s not.”

My sigh is long and shaky as I try to take his words to heart. As I try to hold on to them.

“Look. I understand why you’re uncomfortable, why you doubt, but I’m telling you that I am the only person who knows your whereabouts and so forth.” He pauses for a beat. “You’re allowed to be scared.”

I’m terrified.

I’m sick of being terrified.

And just when I felt like I could start breathing again, just when I decided to start participating in life, I’m shocked back to reality.

To the truth.

To knowing that regardless how safe “Peter” says I am, I’ll probably be looking over my shoulder the rest of my life.

“Does it ever get any easier?” I ask him, not exactly expecting him to answer. “You deal with other people like me. Does it ever get any easier for them?”

“At first, no.” His sigh is reticent, his pause weighted. “It’s not easy learning how to move on. To forget who and what you were in order to be this new person you’ve been allowed the chance to be. Through it all, fear is the one constant, but that too, will fade over time. One day you’ll wake up and suddenly realize the fear hasn’t been there for a while. It’s then you’ll realize that you really are Tennyson West.”

“Okay,” I say more to myself than to him.

“You’re safe, Tenny. It’s okay to live your new life.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye.”

I sit with my phone in my hand, almost as if I need to decompress after waiting all afternoon and night to get that call. My eyes are closed, my ears listening to each creak and crack of the house around me, as if to memorize them so I won’t be scared when I lie in bed later tonight.

This is my safe space.

Kaleo can’t find me. He can’t reach me. For all he knows, the fire-warped wedding ring he received in a Ziplock bag is all he has left of me.

The minute I drift off, a text on my phone jolts me awake.

Crew: That’s me climbing the steps to your porch. Didn’t want to scare you. Can I come in?





I scramble off the couch and to the door without thinking about the hot mess I must look like right now. Between the freak-out in front of him and then the tear fest as my emotions deescalated after he left, I’m more than certain I’d cringe if I looked in a mirror.

But all those thoughts vanish when I open the door and see Crew standing there. He has a grin on his lips and is holding a plate of cupcakes, each one with a different letter on them. They spell out “Get Well Son.”

I angle my head to read them again to make sure I didn’t miss something.

“I might have dropped one with an O on it the dirt on the way over here,” he says with an unapologetic shrug. “These are from the girls. From me. They wanted to do something to make you feel better.”

It’s been years since someone did something just because for me. I almost forgot what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a sweet gesture such as this.

“I’m touched.”

“And I promise we know how to spell.”

“Says he to the editor.” I chuckle as he shakes his head. “Come in. Please. And thank you.” I take the cupcakes, turn my back to him, and walk in, blinking to clear the tears that just welled in my eyes.

Crew has seen enough crazy from me today to last a lifetime.

His feet clomp on the floor behind me as he follows me to the kitchen. “It’s still wet in here.”

“As expected. Coke? Water? Brandy?”

“How about the latter?”

“Sounds good,” I say, pouring him a glass as he takes a seat at the table.

“I was at Millie’s this morning,” he says. “Before . . . earlier.”

Appreciating his knack for talking around my freak-out earlier, I opt for humor. “Such a brave soul going into the Annex all by your lonesome.”

“Jesus,” he barks out. “That’s for sure.”

“If you’re telling me that you were at the unofficial Redemption Falls gossip hub, should I worry that it’s for a reason?” I ask, reveling in this normal conversation with him. Or as normal as can be with torn-apart drywall, wet floors, and no water.

“It’s like estrogen overload the minute I walk in there with gossip leading the way.” He gives a quick shake of his head and chuckles. “Apparently, you and I are shacking up. Having a torrid affair at that.” He hooks his arm over the back of the chair next to him and just smiles when I meet his eyes.

The question is, did Crew set them straight like I tried to . . . or did he let them run wild with their imaginations?

And why am I hoping it’s the latter of the two?

“Gotta love small towns.”

“True. Thanks.” He takes a sip from the glass I set in front of him. His hum of appreciation does things to my insides a simple sound shouldn’t do. “Cheers.” He taps a cupcake to mine and takes a bite.