They walk me to the cruiser. Dawson opens the back door and puts his hand on my head as I duck inside. Through the rear window, I can see the ranch. The warm light spilling out of the front door. Ace bouncing Wyatt on his hip, whispering something in his ear. The birthday banner is still strung across the porch, the letters sagging in the middle where the tape has come loose.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY WYATT.
I press my forehead against the window.
Reese slides into the unmarked sedan behind us. Already talking. Already building the wall between me and whatever they think they’ve got.
The cruiser pulls away. The gravel pops under the tires. The ranch shrinks in the rearview.
And the last thing I see before the road bends is the birthday banner, fluttering in the evening wind, still lit up by the porch light like nothing has changed.
Everything has changed.
I close my eyes and lean my head back against the seat.
Ashley.
I was at her house last night. When I left, she was very much alive. But I’m not a fucking idiot, I know this doesn’t look good.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
LOLA
I shootupright on the couch so fast my wine sloshes over the rim as Violet crashes through the door like she’s being chased. I wipe my face with the back of my hand, praying she doesn’t notice the tears and rush over to her.
“Lola. Shit. You won’t believe what I saw!”
She’s out of breath. Her mascara is smudged under one eye, and her hands are shaking so badly she can’t get them to sit still at her sides.
I shake my head, blinking, my heart already starting to hammer. “What? V? Speak!”
She takes a breath. It doesn’t help. “Hunter got arrested. And from what I overheard, it’s for the murder of his ex-girlfriend.”
The room tilts, and I stumble backward. My hand finds the wall behind me, and I press into it, needing something solid to hold me up.
“H-he what?” I shake my head, over and over, hoping the motion alone can undo what she’s just said.
No. I can’t believe this. I won’t.
Hunter might be many things—things I don’t even know. That dark side of him exists, I know that. But I also know he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt his son. I know that he’s only ever shown me respect. Kindness. Even when that kindness came in the form of keeping me at arm’s length to protect me from something I didn’t understand.
I swallow the bile rising in my throat. “Is that Wyatt’s mom?” I hiss.
Violet shrugs, and the uncertainty on her face makes it worse.
That poor boy. I can’t stop seeing him. Those big eyes, that little voice telling me his mom didn’t love him enough to stay. My chest caves in at the thought of him watching his dad get taken away on his birthday. At the thought that the woman who already abandoned him might now be gone forever.
The tears come before I can stop them. “I—I need to go to Hunter,” I say, straightening up. My voice sounds more certain than I feel.
Violet looks at me like I’ve lost my mind.
“I know it sounds crazy. Hunter and I aren’t even together.” I press my hand flat against my sternum, like I can hold my heart in place by force. “But I think he needs me.”
Violet moves to stand in front of the door. Physically blocking it with her body. “Lola. I love you. But I am not letting you run around town at night to go help a potential murderer.” Her voice cracks on the last word. “You could have been his next victim.”
“No. I wasn’t.” I meet her eyes and hold them. “I know he wouldn’t.”
Her hands land on my shoulders. “You don’t know Hunter. Not really. Just let it take its course. If he’s innocent, then we’ll find out.” She squeezes. “Until then, forget about him.”