it. If he got mad, I’d just take him inside and take off my clothes. That was a win for both of us.
“Let’s do it.”
Scarlett put the word out and it didn’t take long for people to start showing up. Cars and trucks—everything from Millie Waggle’s compact sedan to Rocky Tobias’s souped-up pickup—rumbled down the long drive. We picked a clear spot away from the house for a makeshift fire pit. Hauled in some wood and got the blaze going. It wasn’t a big fire, like the ones on Scarlett’s beach. But it was cozy.
More people arrived, someone turned on music, drinks were passed around. Cash happily darted around people’s legs, his tail wagging. Scarlett Bodine could go from zero to full-fledged bonfire party in no time flat.
The sound of the crackling fire, tinny country music coming from a dashboard stereo, and good-natured conversations filled the air. Sparks danced in the darkening sky. I hugged one of Gibson’s flannel shirts around me. Fall had arrived in Bootleg. The leaves were turning, and the air had a bite to it.
Scarlett wandered over with two beers and handed me one. “Better?”
“Better. Thanks. I don’t feel like I’m in the witness protection program anymore.”
“Now, why didn’t anyone think of that?”
I glanced at her. “Think of what?”
“There were all sorts of theories about what’d happened to you. Different factions, if you will. But I don’t remember anyone coming up with she’s gone into the witness protection program.”
“I guess that would have been close.”
“This is all gonna turn out fine. You know that, right?”
The beer bottle dangled from my hand. “I hope so.”
“You keep right on hoping, but I’m here to tell you, it will. Gibson ain’t gonna stop until he makes sure no one can ever hurt you again. He’s a Bodine. We’re not quitters.”
“You’re stubborn is what y’all are.”
She laughed. “You ain’t wrong. Sometimes it’s our best quality.”
“Speaking of Bodines, where are the rest of them? And where’s Devlin tonight?”
“With Gibs.” She took a swig of beer.
“Scarlett,” I said, my voice stern. “What are they doing?”
“I have no idea what you’re referring to.”
“He said he had things to do and left before I could ask questions. What’s going on?”
She patted my arm. “Trust me. Everything is gonna be fine.”
“Oh god, he’s going after Lee Williams, isn’t he? Why’d you let him do that? That man has killed people.”
“And I’m telling you, there’s no need to worry. They have it handled.”
“He picked you to babysit me because he knew you wouldn’t let me leave, didn’t he?”
She paused with her beer halfway to her mouth and grinned. “Maybe.”
“What’ll you do if I try?”
“I have options,” she said with a shrug. “He told me you’re not to leave his property under any circumstances. And I intend to keep my word.”
I sighed, then took a long pull of beer. Gibson had been right to get his sister to keep me here. Going toe to toe with Scarlett Bodine wasn’t something I had any interest in experiencing. I decided I’d trust her and stay—for now. “Tell you what, I’ll go easy on you. I won’t even try to run.”
“I think that’s smart.” She winked at me and we both smiled.
I stepped closer to the warmth of the fire. Cash seemed to be enjoying it. He rolled onto his back, his stocky legs sticking in the air.
A slow song came on and a few couples paired off to dance. Another car rumbled down the driveway and parked, four people pouring out. I couldn’t see who they were from here, but none of them were Gibson. It was hard not to worry about what he was up to. Maybe if his brothers were with him, that meant he’d be all right. Cassidy wasn’t here either. Did that mean they were involving the law? That was a comforting thought.
Apart from my concern for what kind of trouble Gibson might be getting himself into, I felt calm. The box in my mind wasn’t just empty—it was gone. I’d released all the horrible things inside. And I’d survived.
My parents hadn’t broken me when I was a child. And the trauma they’d inflicted wasn’t going to break me now. I still felt fear. The idea that they were out there, and quite possibly wanted me dead, was terrifying. I knew I’d never be completely safe until they were both behind bars. But my two halves had become whole.
I wasn’t Callie anymore—not the Callie of thirteen years ago, at least. I wasn’t Maya, either. I