tell them you’re not my girlfriend, but I got frustrated and I don’t think I did a very good job of it.”
Could this man be any more adorable? He sat on the edge of the couch with his elbows resting on his knees, his head bent forward. It was like he’d just told me he’d blurted out that Callie Kendall was back.
I rubbed a few circles across his back. Maybe I was being a little too familiar, but he didn’t flinch away or tell me to stop. Just glanced at me over his shoulder, a groove between his dark eyebrows.
“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” I said. “What’s the worst that will happen? People will say your girlfriend is staying with you? There’s no real harm in that.”
He abruptly stood. “No, the worst that will happen is we’ll have half the town camped out in front of the house by tomorrow afternoon, everyone waiting to get a look at you. Hell, Cassidy’s probably already researching Maya Davis.”
“She won’t find much. I’ve never used social media and I try to keep my picture off the internet as much as possible.”
He grunted and walked into the kitchen.
I fiddled with the edge of the blanket. I wasn’t worried about the town’s curiosity because I’d made a decision while Gibson had been out. I wasn’t going to run again.
I was still afraid of where this road led, but as I watched him pace from the kitchen and back, I knew it was the right choice. People had protected me for a long time. They’d put themselves at risk to keep me safe. Gibson’s parents, Quincy and Henna, even Jenny Leland.
And since my case had been re-opened, that list had only grown. All those people—the Bodines, the Tuckers, the others in town who were trying to find out the truth—had become targets. And most of them had no idea they were in danger.
There was no way I could leave them to face that alone. Not when I could help. It was time I did something to protect the people who’d done so much for me, regardless of the risks.
“Gibson, I need to come forward and tell the truth,” I said.
Gibson stopped in front of me. “Tell people that you’re Callie?”
I nodded.
“No.”
“Yes.” My hands trembled and I felt as if I were dissipating into mist. Maya morphing into Callie, then back again. Fear swirling with resolve. I balled my hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “You said yourself, people are going to dig. You have to understand, the judge is dangerous, and not just to me. He could… I don’t want to think about what he could do to you. To a lot of people.”
“I’m not worried about anyone else. I’m worried about you. You told me you stayed away because it wasn’t safe. It’s no different now. In fact, it’s probably worse.”
“That’s exactly why I have to come forward.”
He crouched in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees. “I don’t want to put you in danger.”
“Gibson, I have to do this.”
His eyes held mine, his gaze intense. A part of me wanted to shrink away, hide from his scrutiny. Another part wanted to wrap myself around him and beg him not to let me go.
He stood again and rubbed his chin. “Fine, but if you’re going to do this, we need to be smart about it. You can’t just show up on Lake Drive tomorrow and start saying hi to people.”
“What do you suggest?”
“Start small. We’ll tell my family first. We can trust them, and it’ll get them off my ass.”
There was reassurance in that idea. Safety. “Okay.”
“That kinda means more than just my brothers and Scarlett. We’ll have to tell Cass, and that means Sheriff Tucker. It also means Juney and George. And Shelby.”
“That seems like a good start.”
“But to the rest of the town, you stay Maya,” he said, pointing at me. “At least until we figure out what to do about the judge.”
“I can live with that. But if I go out, do you think people will recognize me? Or should I just stay hunkered down here?” Truthfully, the idea of hiding out in Gibson’s cabin for a while sounded nice. I liked it here.
“No, if you stay here, it’ll just make everyone more curious. They’ll assume we’re hiding something. We’ll just need to sell everyone on the story that you’re Maya Davis. People might think you look familiar, but you’ve changed. And after Abbie Gilbert, no one’s