Chapter 17

17

T he plane ride to this middle of nowhere, tiny Tennessee town takes entirely too long. My mind races the entire time, wondering if I did the right thing by not reaching out on social media. I want to confront Theo in person–where I can see his body language–but now that I'm stuck in this tin can for hours, I'm second-guessing my decision. What if he refuses to see me? Refuses to change his mind? I ask the flight attendant for a piece of paper and pen and start scribbling down my thoughts, eventually organizing them enough to turn them into a rough outline of what I want to say to him.

The pilot's voice blares through the speakers. Welcome to Knoxville, Tennessee, where the current time is 11:54 am.

Butterflies attack my stomach. This was a mistake. I should have told them I was coming first. Got an address. Why did I think I could drive around in a strange city and find them? Even if the town their PO box is in only has a population of 574, that doesn't mean they'll be there, or I'll be able to find them.

Fuck.

I take slow, measured breaths, closing my eyes and relaxing my muscles from the top of my head to the tips of my toes .

"Miss? Are you okay?" I open my eyes to the flight attendant leaning over me, worry creasing her face.

I plaster a smile on my face. "Yes. Yes, sorry." I grab my backpack and shuffle past her, my carry-on nearly breaking my nose when I pull it from the overhead bin. I turn away before she can see the tears in my eyes or the way my chin wobbles. I force myself to take slow, deep breaths as I walk past the empty seats and don’t stop until I make it to the car rental counter.

Keys in hand, I walk through a pair of automatic doors into a solid wall of humidity. I knew it was going to be hot, but I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I start shedding layers right there on the sidewalk, stripping down to my bike shorts and tank top before finding the car. I can’t remember what they told me at the counter, so I press the lock button on the key fob several times, following the beeps until I locate the car. It’s fucking huge. In my head, it had made sense to rent a bigger vehicle in hopes that we’d all be returning to the airport together, but now, seeing it in person, I think I made a gigantic mistake. It’s the biggest car I’ve ever seen.

Doubt starts creeping in. I've always prided myself on being a strong, independent woman, but am I really? Jack has always been there if I needed anything. I've always had enough money to get by. Maybe I've just been faking it my whole life. I take a breath.

I can do this.

I start the car and crank the AC. Pulling my phone out of my backpack, I plug it in and power it on, a text from Charlie immediately popping up.

You're the most incredible person I know, Isla. You can do anything you put your mind to. You're a motherfucking bad bitch, and don't you ever forget it. You've got this.

I made you a playlist just in case you need to be reminded every once in a while.

I wipe away the tear that plops onto the screen with my thumb and press play. “Bad Bitch” by Bebe Rexha blares out of the speakers as I pull out of the parking garage. The GPS tells me I'm thirty minutes from the cabin I rented on the edge of Townsend—a tiny town that calls itself the peaceful side of the Smokies. The drive is beautiful. Wide highways eventually become two-lane roads with forested mountains rising on both sides. It reminds me of the highlands. No wonder the guys felt so at home in Scotland. I turn onto a tiny one-lane road and follow a river for several miles before the cabin comes into view. I pull off the road and stare in disbelief. It sits on a rocky island in the middle of the river, a network of rope bridges connecting it to the mainland.

I clutch the suitcase to my chest as I navigate the bridges, juggling it to one arm in order to punch the code into the door. I drop everything on the floor and head back to the car, wanting to get to the post office as quickly as possible. It only takes me ten minutes to get there and have the postmaster confirm that privacy laws protect PO boxes. Several stops later, I start losing hope. Either the guys don’t live here, or everybody's protecting them. And, hell, can you really blame them?

When I can't ignore the hunger pains any longer, I stop at the closest restaurant. The parking lot is packed with motorcycles, cars, and campers, most of them with out-of-state license plates. I do what the sign says and find a seat, opting for the outside patio to enjoy the views.

Thirty minutes later, I’m licking crumbs from my fingers as I flick through pictures on my phone when the waitress brings my check. Before I can give her my card, she stops me with a hand on my shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, but I couldn't help but notice the picture you have up on your phone. Do you know Theo?" She pulls a strand of thick chestnut hair over her shoulder, twisting it around her finger nervously.

My heart stops. "Yes. Do you know where he is?"

Sadness clouds her expression. "I don't. I was hoping you did."

"How do you know him?"

"I used to date him and–" She stops abruptly, her cheeks turning red. My gaze flicks down to her nametag. Katie. It takes everything in me not to show any reaction .

"I–I'm happily married now," she stammers, wiggling her ring so I can see. "I owe him an apology, but I haven't seen him in years."

My brows draw together. "Their construction company wasn't here?"

She shakes her head. "Their headquarters used to be in Knoxville. This is where their mama and daddy lived. They grew up here."

My stomach sinks. "Where would they go if they came back here?"

"Back to their parents' place," she says without hesitation.

"Their parents' place? I thought they sold everything."

"It’s just a tiny cabin on the edge of the park where their parents lived right after getting married. The only value in it is sentimental, I'm afraid. There's not enough land for someone to build one of those monstrosities they're building nowadays,” she says, her Southern twang drawing out the syllables.

"Can you tell me where it is?"

Her gaze turns suspicious, realizing she’s already said too much. I hold my phone out to her, encouraging her to flip through pictures of me and the guys together.

"You're dating them."

I nod.

"Good. Don't screw it up like I did. I ruined all of our lives for a long time. And then their parents..." She looks off in the distance, pain in her eyes. "They deserve to be happy for the rest of their lives. I hope you can do that for them."

"I'm trying," I say, my voice cracking. "I need to find them first."

Katie tears a piece of paper from her notepad and scribbles down an address. "This is the closest house to the cabin. Park on the side of the road. There should be a path to the left of the house. Follow that until you come to a stone wall. Turn left there and follow it until you get to the cabin."

"Thank you," I whisper. "Is there anything–"

"No,” she says, cutting me off. “It's enough to know they're doing well." She squats down, her gaze intense. "Treasure them. You'll never find anything that feels the same again. Trust me."

"I will. I promise." I let my instincts guide me and pull her into a hug. She hesitates at first and then wraps her arms around me, squeezing hard before pulling back.

"I am happy, you know," she sniffles, her eyes shining. "I just have so many regrets about that time in my life. Not a day goes by that I don't nearly drown in guilt."

"Don't do that to yourself, Katie. They have a great relationship with each other, and they were thriving before Theo ran halfway around the world to do what he thought was the right thing."

"Sounds about right," she chuckles. "Your meal is on the house. Go find your men."

"Won't you get in trouble?" I ask, trying to hand her my card.

"My husband owns the place. I'll tell him I was a bad girl when I go back to the kitchen." She winks, her eyes sparkling.

"Thank you. So much."

"I'm the one that should be thanking you. Knowing they have you makes me feel a million times better. I'm one step closer to forgiving myself. Now go!"

Paper in hand, I jog back to the car, feeling hopeful for the first time in days. I plug the address into my GPS with trembling fingers. My heart lurches in my chest when I see it's only five minutes away. I concentrate on my breathing as I navigate the narrow streets, parking on the side of the road across from the mailbox at the address she gave me. Wiping my sweaty palms on my shirt, I get out of the car and close the door softly. This is it. My only clue to go on.

I scan the trees, my gaze snagging on a partially concealed opening, newly broken branches littering the ground. I run down the path, choking back a sob, my heart pounding in my chest. Branches rip at my hair and skin, but I don’t even feel them. I hold my breath as I pound over a rickety bridge, the river rushing below me, waiting for one misstep. I turn at the rock wall, dragging my fingers along it as I run. I stumble over a root, slamming into the wall, my shoulder and temple scraping along the rocks as I go down. Fuck. I pull up the hem of my shirt and dab at the blood, cursing under my breath.

I gingerly push myself up, brushing the dirt off my knees. I look up, and there it is. It's more of a shack than a cabin, but God, is it beautiful. The honeyed logs glow like amber in the afternoon light. I call Theo's name as I walk closer. Nothing. I rap my knuckles against the door, trying the handle when there's no answer. His scent envelops me the second I step inside. I sag against the doorframe, my eyes watering in relief.

Now what do I do? Do I wait for him to come back? Do I write a note and let him make the call? All I know is I don’t want to be a sweaty, bloody mess when I see him, so I head back to the river to cool off and give myself time to think.

I clamber down the river bank, toe off my shoes and wade through ankle-deep water until I come to a pool deep enough to swim in. I peel off my tank top, tossing it onto a rock, and jump in. Crystal-clear water closes over my head, icy fingers sliding over my skin. It feels so fucking good. I stay in until my teeth chatter, draping myself over a sun-warmed rock on the river's edge, fanning my hair around my head. The sounds of bubbling water and chirping birds lulls me into a dream-like state.

"Isla?"

I startle, rolling off the rock into the water, spluttering as I stand and attempt to push my water-logged hair off my face. I hold my hand up to shield my eyes from the sun, the shadow in front of me taking the shape of a man–a man with full lips, chiseled abs, wearing nothing but swim trunks. I swallow hard. "Hi, Theo."