Chapter Thirty: I Dare You

Chapter Thirty

Willow

I DARE YOU

Performed by Kelly Clarkson

As Hector and I worked shoulder to shoulder in silence, getting the scones and loaves started, my mind spiraled. Every painful and beautiful moment from the time Poco stepped into the cemetery last week whirled through me on repeat.

I was desperately trying to hold on to the delightful memories, the touch of hands, the look in Lincoln's eyes saying he'd battle the world for me. But the harsh realities of what was facing me and him and Mom were too much for the joy, and I could feel it withering. I could feel myself slipping back into the Willow of that first year who'd been afraid to leave the house.

I felt responsible for all of it, even though I wasn't the one who'd marred Hector's beautiful mural, or thrown rocks at Lincoln's window, or followed us around taking pictures from the shadows. Whether it was all the same person or multiple people, I was furious they'd broken the bubble I'd flung myself into with Lincoln and seeped away at the happiness I'd tried to let run my life since the trial.

The fury I felt only stole more of the joy. And I hated that too.

As if sensing my emotions, Hector let me pound and knead and slam my way through the list of baked goods we needed without asking questions. We were seriously behind this morning. The display case would be emptier than normal, and it would cost him business, which only added to my list of regrets.

It wasn't until hours later, when I was cleaning the stack of dishes and pans we'd feverishly whipped through, that Hector finally broke the silence. He joined me, taking items as I rinsed them and loading them into the industrial-sized dishwasher.

"Want to talk about it now?" he asked. When I shook my head, he said, "This isn't your fault."

I couldn't meet his look because even though I wasn't the one who'd defaced his dead wife's painting, it could be my fault. If I'd led the Viceroys here, it was definitely on me. If this was Poco being an asshole because I'd turned him down, then it was square on my shoulders even when I wasn't responsible for the actions either of those men took.

The back door opened, and one of the security team poked his head in. Voices behind him were slightly raised. "Mrs. Earhart is here and some woman with a US Marshal's badge. Shall I let them in?"

The world around me spun at the mention of Deputy Marshal James. The only reason she would show up was if the worst had happened. My throat nearly closed, and I had to press a hand to my chest in order to ease the pressure building.

Hector's eyes narrowed, glancing from the security guard to me. When all I could do was nod, Hector responded for me. "Send them in."

Mom rushed forward. Her blond hair normally so neat and tidy was askew. She drew me to her even though I had water dripping from the gloves I'd slid on to do the dishes. She held me tight, and I wrapped my arms around her, squeezing back. "I don't know if I'm frustrated that even more has happened while I was gone, or if I'm relieved that you have people standing at the door looking over you."

She let me go, cupping my face with her hands, eyeballing me in a way that said she was trying to read the truths I often tried to hold back to keep her safe and happy. "Love would look good on you if we didn't have all this nonsense hanging over us."

I couldn't help the color that bloomed over my face.

Behind her, a woman cleared her throat. We both turned to take in Deputy Marshal Rebecca James. She wore a dark jacket that curved over the straight lines of her muscular frame. With her square build, dark-brown hair closely shorn, and long, narrow eyes, she resembled a bull terrier. She'd protected us with a determined fierceness I'd been able to appreciate even when I'd first met her at sixteen.

"What exactly has been going on, Willow?" the woman demanded, her voice as brisk and tough as her appearance. "And why the hell didn't you tell me when you called the other day?"

My eyes darted from the Marshal to Mom to Hector. He ran a hand over his head, brows furrowed. "What's all this?"

Mom looked at me with surprise. "You didn't tell him?"

I shook my head as I peeled my gloves off and dried my hands. "I wanted you to be able to do it in your own way."

Mom leaned in and kissed my temple, and then she slid her arm through mine, grasping my hand as she turned us to face Hector. My palms grew sweaty as I searched his face, hoping the kindness and generosity I'd always seen wouldn't disappear just because we'd had to lie to him.

Mom took a breath and said, "Deputy Marshal James is our handler."

Hector's eyebrows almost hit his hairline as James cursed under her breath.

"You're in witness protection?" Hector asked, stunned. He was more surprised than Lincoln had been. If anything, I suspected Lincoln had come close to figuring it out on his own.

Mom nodded as James made another sound of protest.

A deep sorrow flooded me. It was over. Everything we'd built here would be gone. I already knew what James would say. I knew what the Marshals would want to do. Our lives here had blown up, so it was time to move on.

As if confirming it, Deputy Marshal James said, "We're taking you to the cottage until plans can be made for your withdrawal."

Like a toddler dragging their feet at bedtime, I said, "I'm not quite finished here." I didn't just mean the cleanup and the dishes and everyone knew it.

James's jaw ticked, and Hector took the towel from my hand.

"Go," he said. "Do what you need to do."

I heard the hurt in his voice and saw the confusion in his eyes as he glanced at Mom. She looked as sad as I felt, but her shoulders were back and her voice strong as she told him, "I'd like to call you later and try to explain, if you'll let me."

"That's not a good idea," James intervened.

Mom ignored her, letting me go. She stepped closer to Hector and took his hand in hers. "Please. It's important to me. You're important to me."

How much more could my heart take? How much before I broke like I had after Dad had first been killed? When I could barely move and was terrified to open a window. I didn't want to go back to that. I wanted my peace back, damn it. Even more, I wanted to keep Lincoln and what Mom and I had built here.

Hector stared at Mom for a moment before squeezing her back and saying, "I'll be anxiously awaiting your call."

The pressure eased off my chest just a hair. I retreated to the office to get my things, and Hector followed me. After I'd gotten my things from the locker, he pulled me to him in a hug. It was hard and tight and brought tears to my eyes.

"I don't know what's going on, but I have to believe, with all these people looking out for you, that you're going to be okay." I swallowed hard and met his concerned gaze. "You're weighed down, as if whatever is happening is something you're responsible for, but I know you didn't do that to the mural Sophia made. I know you wouldn't hurt your mom or me or the café. So whatever is happening, whatever you have to discuss with that Marshal, I know that, in here"—he tapped my head and then my chest—"and in here, you are bright and beautiful and good, and that will always win out over the bad."

I blinked furiously to keep the tears in. I was terrified this would be the last time I saw him. I hugged him just like he'd hugged me—fiercely. With all of me.

"Willow, we need to move," Deputy Marshal James said, stepping into the hallway outside the office.

I stepped away from Hector and felt him watching me as we walked through the kitchen and out the door, but I didn't look back. If I did, I'd lose it completely.

As soon as we were in the Marshal's vehicle with Axel's men following us, I demanded, "Why are you here? What's happened?"

Her two-way squawked, and she spent the time it took to get to the cottage discussing Axel Garner with someone back at headquarters. By the time we stepped out of the vehicle, whatever she'd learned had satisfied her enough to allow his men to help her and two other Marshals clear the house and secure the perimeter.

Once she joined Mom and me in the kitchen, I snapped out at her again, "What's going on?"

"Besides you telling the president of the United States' son everything about you?" she barked. I flushed and looked away before turning my eyes back to her. She swiped at her face, running a hand over her shorn hair, and then said, "We can't find Aaron Vitale."

The shock of the words reverberated through me, chills running instantly up my spine. Bile burned in my throat. God, I'd been so certain this entire mess could be laid at Poco's feet.

"What do you mean you can't find him?" Mom demanded. "We just talked to you and reconfirmed his whereabouts."

"When Willow's backstory was poked at yesterday, I traced it to that damn security company. At first, before I knew Matherton had hired them, I assumed Aaron had found you. We sent in a team in Chicago to have a conversation with him, and that's when we realized they haven't had eyes on the real Aaron in several days."

Blood stampeded through my veins, and I swallowed over the lump in my throat, asking, "What do you mean? The real Aaron?"

James's mouth tightened. "Someone who looks a hell of a lot like him has been moving back and forth between his home and work. It wasn't until we went into his office that we realized it wasn't actually Aaron."

I sank down on the barstool, and Mom stepped up to wrap an arm around me. "It's going to be okay."

But was it? Was it really? We had to leave. We had to run. We were losing everything. All of it. Lincoln. Hector. Our beautiful lives. Fury and disappointment and overwhelming sadness rushed through me, battling to see which emotion could do the most damage.

"Tell me what the hell has really been going on, and why the hell Matherton has hired a security detail for you," James insisted.

In a voice that felt wooden and numb, I explained for what felt like the thousandth time what had been happening since Poco and Lincoln had shown up in the graveyard. James took notes and asked some pointed questions about Lincoln and me that had me fidgeting and pulling on my dad's ring before glancing away at nothing.

After a moment, I took a shaky inhale and said, "I truly didn't think any of it involved the Viceroys. They'd just shoot me, wouldn't they? And even if they did decide to send a message, all I can see Aaron writing is, I'm coming for you, bitch , when these notes are almost…flowery."

"I don't disagree. The wording on the notes is strange," James said. "And we have no indication that Aaron has found you. It was Lincoln's security team who poked at your backstory and no one else. For all we know, Aaron has simply taken off to some non-extradition country because of the RICO case. But I won't be comfortable until we set eyes on him again."

The what-ifs and if-onlys tried to eat me alive from the inside out.

"Either way, the situation here in Cherry Bay is no longer sustainable. The safest bet is to relocate you."

Bone-searing grief wielded through me. I tugged at Dad's ring. It was my only real, physical connection to him anymore. What would I be able to take with me from this life? What physical items would remind me of Hector and Shay and my time at The Tea Spot? What would remind me of Lincoln and a glorious weekend I'd spent in the arms of a man I'd cared deeply for…had been halfway in love with after mere days together.

"No." My mom's voice swung through the air like a gunshot, drawing our eyes to her.

She'd been quiet for most of the conversation between the Marshal and me, but her face was set now. I knew that look. That quiet determination.

Our handler shook her head and said, "You can't deny relocation. If you do—"

"I know," Mom interrupted. "We'd have to opt out if we say no to moving."

"Mom," I said, panic filling me. "We should talk about this before we decide anything."

She shook her head. "No. We've both got lives here we love. People we care about. A future. We're not running. We're not hiding. We've got the security team Lincoln hired. I'll hire more. We'll figure it out."

"A private security company isn't the answer, Erica. They'll bleed you dry if you try to keep them for the rest of your lives," Deputy James insisted.

"I can't do it," Mom said, hands shaking as she pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I can't start over again. Give up another career. Ask Willow to give up the career she was born to do. The art she's creating. She just fell in love for the first time, and I won't tear her from any of it."

"She's in love with the president's son!" James hissed.

I wanted to protest that I wasn't sure it was love yet, if only to ease Mom's conscience about moving, but the words turned to ash in my mouth. I wasn't halfway in love with Lincoln, I was fully, over-the-top, completely and absolutely in love with him. It had happened from the moment he'd swooped in and rescued me, and every single tingling sensation, every single beautiful moment after it had just strengthened the connection that bound us together. It was ridiculous, but true.

I desperately wanted more time with him. Whatever time my body gave me. Whatever time fate and the Viceroys would leave me with. But I also didn't want to put him or my mom in danger because of my need to mark off that last joyous experience on my list.

When neither Mom nor I said anything else, Deputy James said, disgustedly, "The little taste of his life you got with just the idea of a photograph leaking…that's nothing compared to what you'll get if you actually show up on his arm. Even if these notes have nothing to do with the Viceroys, you think Aaron Vitale is just going to sit back and watch as you live some huge-ass life with the president's son while his baby brother is pushing up daisies?"

Nausea returned, flipping my stomach in a nasty way. Mom grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight, comfort and solidarity. We were in this together. Somehow, I'd forgotten that even though it's what she'd insisted last night. That it was her choice. She had as much to lose—and gain—as I did. She was pale, and I could feel her shaking even as her words were confident when she spoke. "Then, I guess we'll have to trust the authorities to find a way to put him out of commission for good if he comes calling. We're not relocating."

James paced, shoved up the sleeves on her jacket, paced some more, and then came to a stop by the island. "I've never lost anyone under my protection. Not because they were killed or because they chose to walk away from protection. Please don't be the first. It'll haunt me for the rest of my life if something happens to either of you."

"It'll haunt me for the rest of my life if I let Willow walk away from the beautiful future she deserves. That she's earned! We've had enough tragedy and darkness, Rebecca. Enough is enough!" She pounded the counter to emphasize it, and emotions clogged my throat.

"Mom—"

"No, Willow. We're not leaving."

While the thought of giving up everything and everyone here tore at my soul, I wasn't sure I could live with the alternative either—because someone I loved could die again.

Deputy Marshal James stared at both of us for a second that felt like forever before sighing and saying, "I can give you forty-eight hours to think about it while we start arrangements for a move." When Mom started to respond, she waved it away. "Calm down and really consider what you're doing. When logic prevails, give me a call." She headed toward the door. "We'll have two deputies assigned to you until then. I'll have them coordinate with this Garner security company, but the Marshal Service is in charge, not them. What we say goes."

I didn't think Lincoln or Axel would agree with that statement, and just the thought of either of their reactions lightened the heaviness weighing on me just a bit. I wished it could wipe it away completely. Wished I could go back a handful of days to when I'd been smiling at the cherry blossoms and feeling like my life was all goodness and hope and rainbows.

But if I went back, I wouldn't have Lincoln, and that hurt more than anything had in a really long time.

James left, shutting the front door with enough force it made the windows rattle.

"What are we doing?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Living," Mom said quietly, sitting on the stool next to me.

"But what if someone else gets hurt… I'm not just talking about me or you, Mom. What if it's Hector or Shay or Lincoln…" My heart just about broke even thinking about it.

She patted my hand. "You gave Lincoln a choice and he's made it. He's stuck by you. I can only do the same for Hector. If we tell everyone the truth, and they choose to stay, then they've decided the risk is worth it. That's pretty beautiful, don't you think?"

It was similar to what she'd said and I'd thought last night. And while she was right, she was also glossing over it some. If something happened to Hector because of us, she'd be filled with guilt. Remorse would cling to both of us, following us wherever we went. That haunting she and Deputy James had talked about would be relentless. Goosebumps went up my arms and over my neck. We were tempting fate. Tempting the Viceroys. Tempting whoever this was leaving notes about the fairy-tale life I didn't deserve.

She nudged me with an elbow. "When do I get to meet Lincoln in person? I have some thanking to do."

We'd both gotten so good at brushing aside the hard topics and even harder feelings in order to force some peace and happiness into our lives that it was second nature now. But was it healthy? I didn't know the answer. But if it was what she needed right then, I'd give it to her. I nudged her back and said, "Don't embarrass me."

"Have I ever embarrassed you?"

She hadn't. Never. Not even when I was a tween and she'd dropped me off at school with hugs and kisses and love. I hadn't cared. I'd always felt lucky to have my parents. To be loved in ways some of my classmates weren't.

"I have a feeling he'll be knocking on our door soon enough." Just the thought of it was enough to curve my lips upward.

He'd basically asked me to move in with him, to give up my job and work out of his kitchen. He'd been partially teasing, but there'd been a layer of truth beneath it, even if some of it had stemmed from the trauma of his past and his need to keep me safe. I understood those feelings better than maybe anyone who hadn't experienced losses like ours ever could.

So, right or wrong, ridiculous or not, I knew he'd be showing up at our door when his day was done. The thrill of that knowledge helped push away more of the doubts and fears and worries. Made it easier to smile at Mom.

"I need to talk to Hector," Mom said, standing up. "Thank you for letting me be the one to tell him."

"I would have hated it if Lincoln had heard about it from someone else." I reached over and hugged her to me, head on her chest like I'd done so many times as a child. "What if… What if Hector decides we're too much of a risk? What if he doesn't want to date you…and he doesn't want me to work for him anymore? We could lose everything anyway."

"What happened to my sunshine girl who refused to live by what-ifs anymore?" She pulled back to look at me, lips twisted upward with the tease. When I didn't return it, she asked, "Do you really believe Hector would do that?"

"He has Shay to protect. His livelihood."

"He considers you a second daughter, kiddo. He told me that himself. He's not walking away from you. That's part of the reason I waited so long to accept a date. I didn't want to start something that ended and could ruin what you have with him. I didn't want you to lose another father…" She choked on a wave of emotion, then she cleared her throat. "I have to believe what I said to Deputy Marshal James. We've had enough bad in our lives. Fate isn't going to hand us more."

"Hector was hurt. And the mural, Mom…you didn't see it…" I shook my head.

"Being hurt and being angry enough to walk away are completely different things."

She was right. Of course she was right, but it still didn't ease my worries. He'd basically acted as if we were saying goodbye forever as we'd left the café.

I felt like a boat on turbulent waves, heading for a rocky shore with no way to stop. I couldn't find my footing. No solid ground appeared at my feet. All I could do was let the tide ride up and over us and see what was left when it finally subsided.