I glared at her. “Who told you about Elle?”
Her eyes brightened in excitement, and she straightened, opening her mouth to say something else, but my anger bristled, rising to the surface.
“No. I don’t want to hear it. We’re done.” I pushed my chair back so hard the legs caught and scraped across the floor.
“Did you become sheriff because you wanted to make up for the fact you killed your best friend’s wife?”
My fist flew onto the table, slamming it so hard my cup upended and spilled coffee everywhere. She was fast, though, snatching her phone and thrusting it into my face.
“I said we’re done!” I pushed her phone out of my face, stalking past her toward the door.
She was dredging up the past with Landon and Elle, trying to tie it to my career. I felt sick with the idea of where she might be going with all of this—I wasn’t cut out to be a sheriff because if I couldn’t save Elle, who was to say I could save someone else?
“Sheriff, do you want to comment on any of this?”
I stopped moving, twisting around sharply to face her,and gave her my scariest scowl. “Go fuck yourself.” Would my mama have hit me for talking to a lady like that? Absolutely, and I immediately felt bad for it, but then she smirked. No way was I feeling bad for someone who took pleasure in finding my sore spot and digging her thumb in.
“That’s on the record?” She grinned at me.
I set my jaw, turning away and heading for my car. I let her know what I was thinking when I slammed the door shut behind me, jarring the car so hard everything rocked.
2
Rose
The door slammed shutbehind me, sinking me into darkness, and I reached out to my left, fumbling for the light switch.
I stepped to the sink and mirror, staring at my haggard reflection as I set the white plastic shopping bag down and pushed the flyaway baby hairs around my face back. As my hand came away, my thumb traced the bruise blooming on my cheek. It stood out worse as my olive complexion had given away to an unnatural whiteness.
Nothing I could do about that right now. I had other worries.
Grabbing the hem of my shirt, I pulled it over my head quickly, wincing as the cotton caught and yanked on the wound before I dropped it into the sink next to the bag. Without the dark material to hide the blood, I could see my shoulder and side were soaked, leaving a seeping trail from the gun wound in my shoulder.
I was lucky.
I’d ducked, and the shot went through the top of my shoulder, between bone, I had to guess, and out the other side. I twisted to confirm and grimaced at the exit wound. Reaching for the bag, I dug into it and found the bottle of rubbing alcohol.
I poured the alcohol on the wound, shouting in surprise. “FUCK!” I turned away from the sink as I doubled over, the pain washing through me, making me nauseous.
Once that was done, I stuffed the capped bottle back in the bag and pulled out the package of bandages. Ripping one open with my mouth, I set it on the front wound and carefully taped it. The back wound was a bit more awkward, but I managed to get it covered, which meant any more bleeding would be soaked up by the bandage and not my new shirt.
Packing everything up, I took one last sweeping look over myself to make sure nothing looked out of place. Once I was satisfied, I gathered everything and headed back out to the car.
Approaching my car, I peered through the half-lowered back window at the sandy-haired little boy sucking on his pacifier. I exhaled and closed my eyes for a moment, soaking in my gratitude. We were out. We were safe.
Most importantly, we were alive.
I pulled out a state map and looked over it, recalling the mile marker sign. There was a big-ish town ahead, Pleasant Lake, and beyond that, a much smaller one: Sage River. Middle of nowhere, far from any major cities, surrounded by nothing. A good enough place as any to start again.
Anywhere was better than where we came from.
Once I reached Sage River, I pulled in front of the library. I figured this was the best place to start the job search as I glanced at the clock. It was nine in the morning. Surely it had to be open. Unbuckling myself, I climbed out and pulled Silas’ door open as I unbuckled him.
“Mommy, om noms.”
“I know, I’m hungry too. We’ll grab something to eat as soon as I check out the library.” I smiled reassuringly at him as I lifted him out of his car seat and took his hand. Walking into the entryway, my eyes found the announcement board.
“Why don’t you head in and look at a couple books? I’ll be right there.” I pulled the second door open and ushered him in, watching him take a few steps toward the kids’ section before glancing back at me. I lifted my hand and smiled encouragingly, knowing that if I seemed okay, he would think it was okay.