21. Gathering Storm

GATHERING STORM

T he short walk from Jake's truck to my front door felt like walking to execution, even with his hand steady in mine.

"You two look cozy." Cassidy's sharp eyes softened for a fraction of a second, taking in our joined hands. "Though given what I'm about to show you, that might be part of the problem."

"Cassidy, this is Jake." My voice came steadier than I felt. "My boyfriend."

The word still gave me butterflies, especially when Jake squeezed my hand in response.

Inside, I went through the motions of making tea - another habit Zayn had drilled into me. Cassidy spent those few minutes studying Jake like he was evidence in a trial, but whatever she saw must have satisfied her.

"I'd say it's nice to meet you, Sheriff Thompson, but given the circumstances..." She sighed, reaching for her phone. "Elliot, when's the last time you checked the news?"

Fuck. The grimace must have shown on my face because she didn't wait for an answer.

"That's what I thought." She handed over her phone, already queued up to whatever bomb was about to drop. "Vanessa called a press conference this morning."

“This is becoming a habit of her.” Elliot sighed and took the phone.

The video started with Vanessa at the podium, looking exactly like she did during race press conferences - perfectly styled hair, designer outfit chosen to look expensive but not flashy. Mother of the Year costume complete.

"Thank you all for coming." Her voice trembled just enough to hook sympathy. I'd seen her practice that tremor in the mirror enough times to know it was bullshit. "I wouldn't normally address private matters publicly, but given recent events, I feel I owe it to my son to speak out."

Jake's hand tightened on my shoulder. He could probably feel me tensing with every word.

"As many of you know, Elliot has been going through some... changes lately." The pause was calculated, letting implications sink in. "First abandoning his racing career, then making impulsive decisions that can possibly affect our son.”

Fucking hell. My hands clenched into fists, remembering Tommy's joy at seeing his room here, at having space to just be a kid.

"I've tried to be supportive." Tears gathered in her eyes, perfectly timed. "Even when he suddenly moved to a small town, cutting Tommy off from his friends, his school, everything stable in his life."

"That's not" The words caught in my throat as Anderson moved closer to the podium, playing his role of protective counsel.

"But now," Vanessa's voice broke beautifully, "I have to speak up. For Tommy's sake. My son deserves better than watching his father spiral into... whatever this is."

She gestured vaguely, and I knew what was coming. Braced for it even as Jake's presence behind me kept me from completely losing it.

"Elliot has taken up residence in Oakwood Grove, living what he claims is a 'simpler life.' But the reality is far more concerning." The tears were flowing freely now. “He’s been making decisions that impact our son without any consideration for Tommy's wellbeing.”

"I'm not here to judge lifestyle choices." The perfect mix of tolerance and concern. "But as a mother, I have to question the stability of someone who abandons their career and move to a strange town. It seems more like a cry for help than a rational decision.”

"I just want my son safe." Vanessa's final blow, delivered with a sob. "I want the old Elliot back. The one who knew who he was, who put Tommy first."

The video ended, but the damage was done. She'd managed to out me, question my sanity, and position herself as the victim all in one perfectly choreographed performance.

"I'm going to be sick." The words came out raw, but Jake's arms were already around me, steady and sure.

But Jake didn't let go. Didn't run from the media shitstorm about to hit his quiet town. Just held me tighter, like his arms could shield me from all of it.

"It gets worse." Cassidy's voice held steel. “They're painting you as having some kind of breakdown."

"Bullshit." Jake's word came sharp, protective. "He's building a home here. For Tommy. For himself."

"I know that." Cassidy's expression softened slightly. "But they're spinning it. Hard. The press is probably already on their way here."

My stomach dropped. Because this wasn't just about me anymore. This was about Jake, about his quiet life, about this whole town that had taken me in.

"I'll handle it." But my voice shook. "Been dealing with her games for years."

"Not alone." Jake moved into my line of sight, those steady brown eyes grounding me. "Not anymore."

"He's right." Cassidy started gathering her papers. "And having Jake actually helps our case. Shows you're building stable relationships, putting down roots. But you need to be ready. The vultures are coming."

"Let them come." Jake's voice held that sheriff authority that did things to my insides. "This is my town. They'll play by our rules here."

Something in my chest cracked open. Because this man - this incredible, protective man - was choosing to stand with me. Even knowing the shitstorm coming our way.

"We need a strategy." Cassidy watched us with knowing eyes. "Both legal and personal. Town this size, everyone's going to have questions."

"Then we'll answer them." Found my voice finally, stronger with Jake's warmth at my back. "Together. No more hiding."

"Good." She headed for the door, already on her phone. "I'll be in New York tomorrow, fighting the motions. Stay low, stay smart, and for God's sake, answer your phone when I call."

The door closed behind her with finality. The quiet rushed back in, but different now. Heavier with everything coming.

"I'm sorry." The words burst out as I turned to Jake. "This isn't what you signed up for. The media circus, the custody shit, all of it"

His kiss cut me off, fierce and certain. "Stop. This is exactly what I signed up for. You, Tommy, all of it. We'll handle whatever comes."

"Even reporters camping outside your station? Digging into your life?"

"Let them dig." His smile turned sharp. "Small towns protect their own. And you're one of ours now."

The certainty in his voice broke something loose in my chest. Because yeah, the storm was coming. Yeah, Vanessa had just blown up our quiet life. But standing in my kitchen with Jake's arms around me, it felt manageable somehow.

"Hey." His thumb brushed my cheek. "Where'd you go?"

"Just thinking." Pressed closer, breathed him in. "About how fucking grateful I am that I met you.”

His laugh rumbled through his chest. "Best traffic stop of my life."

"Even with all this?" Gestured at Cassidy's abandoned briefcase, at the phone still playing Vanessa's performance. "Even knowing what's coming?"

"Especially with all this." His kiss landed soft against my temple. "Because now you're not facing it alone."

And fuck if that didn't undo me completely.

The weight of what just happened crashed over me in waves. Vanessa had painted a target on this whole town. My quiet refuge was about to become a media circus, and fuck if that thought didn't make me want to throw up.

"This is going to change everything." My voice came out raw against Jake's chest. "The reporters, the cameras. They'll be everywhere. The diner, the grocery store, probably camping outside your station."

Jake's arms tightened around me. "Not my first rodeo with this kind of shit. When the press found out that Liam was back here they camped out here as well. We had our share of vultures trying to dig up dirt."

"Yeah?" Pulled back enough to see his face. "How'd you handle it?"

"Small towns protect their own." His smile turned fierce. "And you're one of us now. Already talked to Caleb about using some of his ranch hands for extra security if needed. Nina's got a creative way of spilling drinks on reporters who don't take no for an answer."

The image of Nina "accidentally" dumping coffee on paparazzi almost made me laugh. Almost.

"But what about Tommy? They'll be all over him."

"Let them try." Jake's voice held pure sheriff authority. "Between my deputies and Caleb's crew, no one's getting near this property without permission. Tommy will be safe here."

Safe. The word hit different coming from Jake. Because he didn't just mean physically safe - he meant emotionally safe. Protected from cameras and questions and all the bullshit Vanessa was stirring up.

"There's another option." His thumb traced patterns on my back, soothing. "If it gets too intense here, you could head back to New York for a bit. Draw their attention away from the town."

My heart stopped. "You want me to leave?"

"Fuck no." His kiss landed fierce against my temple. "Want you right here where I can protect you. But I need you to know you have options. That we'll figure this out together, whatever that looks like."

"I can't go back there." The words came out smaller than intended. "Can't let her win like that."

"Then we fight." Simple, certain. "We protect what matters - Tommy, this town, us. Together."

"The town might not want this fight." The fear finally voiced itself. "Might resent having their peace disrupted because of me."

Jake's laugh surprised me. "You really don't get small towns yet, do you? This place? These people? They love a good 'fuck you' to outsiders trying to mess with one of their own. And trust me, you became one of their own the moment you started renovating that old house."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." His smile went soft. "Sarah's already planning to name a breakfast special after you. Nina's got a whiskey with your name on it. Even old man Jenkins asked if you needed help fixing that loose shutter on your porch."

Something warm unfurled in my chest, pushing back against the cold dread Vanessa had planted. "Didn't know about the shutter."

"That's the point." Jake's fingers carded through my hair. "People here? They notice stuff. Care about stuff. Not because they're nosy, but because this is what community means. Having each other's backs, especially when shit gets tough."

"Even when that shit brings national media to their doorstep?"

"Especially then." His kiss tasted like certainty. "Let them come. They'll find a town that knows how to close ranks around its own."

Found myself believing him. Because this was Jake - steady, sure Jake who protected what mattered with everything he had.

"Okay." Breathed the word against his neck. "Okay, we fight. But promise me something?"

"Anything."

"If it gets too much, if the town starts suffering because of this, you'll tell me? We'll figure out Plan B?"

His arms tightened. "Promise. But it won't come to that. You know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you're worth fighting for." The words came fierce, certain. "This life we're building? Worth protecting. And I'm not the only one who thinks so."

Jake's departure left the house too quiet, too empty. His kiss goodbye still burned on my lips, but duty called - sheriff's work didn't stop just because my life was imploding.

The rage I'd been holding back bubbled up like acid. Vanessa's performance played on repeat in my head, each calculated tear, every perfectly timed pause designed to make me look unstable. Before I could talk myself out of it, my phone was in my hand, her number dialed.

She answered on the second ring. "I was wondering when you'd call."

"What the fuck was that?" My voice came out like gravel. Paced to the backyard, needing space to explode. "A press conference? Really? You couldn't even give me the courtesy of a heads up before dragging our private life into the spotlight?"

"Private life?" Her laugh dripped poison. "Oh honey, there's nothing private about running away to play house with some small-town cop. Did you really think I wouldn't find out?"

"How did you even know about Jake?" The question burst from me, hands shaking with rage. "Been having me followed?"

"Please." Her laugh went colder, sharper. "You think I'd trust something this important to chance? Of course I hired someone. He's been watching you for weeks. Such cute photos of you and your sheriff making breakfast, by the way. Very domestic."

The violation hit like a physical blow. Every quiet moment, every shared laugh - all of it watched, documented, reported back to her like we were characters in her private show.

"You're fucking sick." My voice shook with fury. "Hiring investigators to spy on me? What happened to co-parenting with respect?"

"Respect?" Something shifted in her tone - colder, calculating. "You want to talk about respect when you're the one who ran away to play gay with some backwoods cop? You know what reporters would pay for the photos I have? Quite the scandal for a racing champion, don't you think?"

"Leave Jake out of this." The words came through clenched teeth. "This is between us."

"Not anymore. I've got proof of every little domestic moment you've shared. Every kiss, every touch. Drop the custody case, Elliot. Let Tommy stay where he belongs. Or I'll make sure every tabloid in the country knows exactly what kind of 'simple life' you're living in Oakwood Grove."

"You'd use this?" The words tasted like ash. "Use me being happy against me? Against our son?"

"I'm protecting our son." The familiar righteous tone I'd grown to hate. "From your midlife crisis, your sexual confusion, your desperate need to throw away everything we built."

"Everything we built?" Fury made my vision blur. "You mean everything you orchestrated? The perfect image, the trophy wife, the son you parade around like a prop at your charity events?"

"At least I give him stability." Her voice turned smug. "What do you offer? A boyfriend who carries a gun for a living? A town full of nobodies? Please."

"Fuck you." The words exploded out. "Those 'nobodies' have shown me more real support than your fake society friends ever did. You don't get to judge my life or the people in it. And you sure as hell don't get to use my relationship with Jake as leverage."

"Then let Tommy go." Simple, cruel. "Walk away now, before your little romance becomes tomorrow's headline."

"Never." The ocean roared behind me, matching my anger. "I'll fight you on this. Every step of the way. Release whatever photos you want - I'm done hiding. Done letting you control the narrative."

"Your choice." Ice dripped from every word. "But remember - you brought this on yourself. And your precious sheriff? His quiet life is about to get very, very public."

The line went dead, leaving me shaking in my backyard. The same backyard where I'd planned to build Tommy's treehouse. Where Jake and I had shared wine under the stars. Where I'd finally started feeling like I belonged somewhere.

Now every inch of it felt violated. How many photos had her investigator taken? How many private moments had been twisted into weapons?

But fuck her.

Fuck her games and her threats and her perfect victim act.

Because this? This place, these people, this life I was building? Worth fighting for.

Worth whatever shitstorm she was about to unleash.

Tommy deserved better than her manipulations. Jake deserved better than being used as ammunition. And I deserved better than living in fear of her next move.