if any of them had seen his dark side … if Dad was still paying new people for their silence.
Gabi pictured her friend Nora, tears coursing down her face as she’d refused to talk to the police. Then she pictured herself packing her suitcase with shaking hands that same Christmas night, buying a bus ticket to Boston, and calling her mother hours later to let her know she was safe.
And to let her know she would never be home again.
She’d returned the checks her father had sent her, the ones that came with notes begging her to think about family, keep her mouth shut … make sure Nora did the same.
Her reward had been a clean, swift cut. Our family’s not good enough for you? Then our money isn’t, either. And her trust fund had been reallocated to Garrett.
She’d sat out the next semester at Wellesley, working two different part-time jobs and applying for scholarships, and when she’d finally entered the brick buildings again, under her own power, she’d done so with a clarity of purpose she hadn’t let go of since.
Yes, she had a responsibility to open up opportunities for girls like Sam and Eve, but just as importantly, she couldn’t let Madison and Waverly—or any of the other girls at Briarwood—grow up thinking they were untouchable. She couldn’t turn them out into the world thinking there was a different set of laws created for those who could pay for protection. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—let them ever get away with hurting someone again, whether it was intentional or not.
Because if she didn’t do her job, she’d be allowing two more Garretts to wreak havoc on the world. And people like Sam and Eve would be victims like Nora.
She turned on the flashlight and did a sweep of the clearing, but didn’t see any scary sets of eyes in the bushes, so she set off down the pathway toward Luke’s cabin. It was eleven o’clock—definitely too late to visit someone without notice—but Gabi couldn’t lie in that tent any longer without talking to him.
As she crested the rise, she saw his log cabin nestled against the steep hillside, warm lights glowing from its windows. The cabin had a stone chimney gracing the right side, and a wide front porch with a swing and two Adirondack chairs. The door was open, and she could see Luke through the screen, moving about a little kitchen area in just his shorts.
She swallowed hard, watching him even while she chided herself for doing so. How pathetic was it to be standing outside in the dark, ogling a man who didn’t know she was there?
As she watched, he got two beers out of his fridge. Oh, no. He had company. Gabi was standing outside his cabin like a peeping Tom, and he was entertaining a woman.
She started to turn back down the pathway, but stopped when she saw him pull a shirt over his head, grab a metal mixing bowl and the beers, and push open the door onto his screened porch. He set the beers down on a table between the Adirondack chairs, then stood up and looked like he was staring directly at her.
She instinctively backed up, even though there was no way he could see her, right? Then his hand came up, and suddenly she couldn’t see at all, because a painfully bright light was shining directly in her eyes.
Well. Apparently he could see her just fine.
“Out for a stroll, Gabi?” He moved the light down her body and away from her, and she could hear the amusement in his tone. Great.
She walked toward him, stopping when she was just inside the light cast by the porch lanterns. “Sorry. The girls are zonked, but I couldn’t sleep. Just thought I’d take a walk.”
“After the hike I took you on the other day? You’re willing to chance it out here at night?”
“Really, really couldn’t sleep. And I figured most of your warnings were for effect.” She motioned to the drinks on the porch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you when you have company.”
“I don’t have company.”
“But—two drinks.” She shook her head. It wasn’t her business. “Never mind.”
“Gabi, I saw you come over the hill. Figured you were either sleepwalking, or you needed some company.” He narrowed his eyes like he was trying to zoom in on her face. “And if you’re sleepwalking, you’re awfully lucid.”
She looked up at him, wishing she didn’t feel so damn vulnerable right now. It made it hard