Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
I carry a load of firewood to the big pit in the center of the group campsite, joining Zach who is splitting kindling with a small hatchet. Beyond in the shallow creek, Sofie and Curren are playing with Jesse and his daughter Skye, the evening sunlight reflecting off the clear water. The shrieks and laughter coming from the two kids blends with the gentle shush of water moving over the rocks.
I should be soaking up all these good vibes, but I’m jumpy and preoccupied, like a kid waiting for party guests to arrive. Only there’s just one person I want to see.
It’s irritating as hell.
I thought I could get Ava out of my mind last night by spending it with someone else. An old hookup who was thrilled to hear from me. But as soon as I’d set it up, I knew it was a mistake, and I cancelled. Instead, I spent the night alone in the back of mom’s truck, staring at the stars.
“Surprised you got the night off,” I say to Zach. I kneel at the edge of the fire pit to build a teepee with rolled up newspaper.
“It’s my first since Marin went missing.” His stoic tone tells me he’s not fully present, but how could he be with a high-stakes murder investigation underway?
It’s been over forty-eight hours since we found Marin, and there have been no arrests. I’m no detective, but it’s not hard to take this as a bad sign.
“How are things going?” I add a layer of kindling and light the paper. Bright orange flames leap to life, crawling up the lengths to lick at the kindling.
“Slow. Everett and I were in her room again yesterday.” He shakes his head, as if to clear an unwelcome memory. “Still haven’t located her phone. But we found clues that she was crushing on some guy she met online. Most likely the same person with that burner.”
My gut hollows. The local headlines this morning reported this online acquaintance along with a plea for information about him.
From the creek, Curren gives an excited squeal, his chubby cheeks rosy. Jesse chases down the little wooden boat he carved for them before it can get swept into the main current.
“There’s a boyfriend too,” Zach says over the crackle of the fire. “They had been camp counselors together last summer, then it turned long distance when he went off to college.”
“Were they still together?”
Zach shakes his head. “He dumped her over Christmas break. Apparently, he’d strung her along while sleeping with half the volleyball team.”
Anger flares hot in my chest. If this kid wanted to fuck around, then have the decency to break things off with his girl before he did. “Where’s he now?”
“He gave his statement last night. With a lawyer.”
That this kid lawyered up just to give a statement means not only does he have the means to do so, but he might have something to hide.
“Any chance the burner phone guy is the ex?”
“We’re working every angle,” Zach replies, sounding exhausted.
I think about Marin’s family going through so much while they wait for answers. Could a predator have targeted her? Maybe because of this breakup over the holidays, she was extra vulnerable, and feeling insecure, even lonely?
I add more kindling to the fire, my frustration and anger at whoever is responsible for Marin’s death turning my insides to knots.
“Beth didn’t say much about her interview.” I feed the fire with bigger sections of kindling. “Anything useful?”
“Along with the others, it’s very useful. Helps establish a timeline.”
“Did she know who this creep with the burner was?”
“No.”
The relief washing through me comes laced with guilt that my baby sister is safe while Marin’s family is suffering the most painful loss.
“Any chance whoever killed Marin might feel like doing it again?” Finding Ava’s door ajar still has me spooked.
Zach stares into the fire for an instant, his expression grim. “Let’s hope not.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, let me know?” I ask Zach.
“You’ve already done a lot.” He shakes his head. “Not just rappelling down there, but you stayed with Marin and helped us get her back to her family.” He eyes me, his sharp eyes tense. “Is that the kind of stuff you do for the military?”
I swallow the swell of emotion working its way up my throat. “It’s part of the gig, yeah.”
His cheeks puff with a hard exhale. “What do you do to get shit out of your head?”
I add two logs to the growing fire. “A ten-mile run usually does it.” Or an all-nighter with an eager participant, though if last night is any indication, that option is no longer reliable.
Fuck.
Zach gives me a look. “That’s your idea of self-care?”
“Hey, it’s better than a bottle of Jack Daniels.” I sit back on my heels and watch the fire, the heat warming my face. “Talking about it helps too, with someone you trust.”
Zach’s gaze lifts to Sofie who is playing with Curren in the water, and his face stills. “Yeah.”
As if Sofie senses him watching, she looks up. For an instant, their powerful connection makes the air particles shiver. She smiles, and he smiles back.
It stirs me up inside, and I have to look away. The thought of being so deeply attached the way they are makes my skin prickle. I just have to remember how it broke my mom—the strongest person I know—when Dad left. No way am I signing up for that kind of heartache.
I’m better off flying solo.
Though that night I shared with Ava at Wolf Creek felt different. I had been wondering what it would be like to have someone in my life. Someone as good to me as Ava. Someone who makes me laugh. Someone who pushes my buttons and likes it when I push theirs. Someone who looks at me the way she does. Like she sees the parts I hide, and holds them gently.
I should have told Ava that. I should have made sure she knew that I would never in a million years do anything to hurt her.
But I didn’t. Because fuck did it sting when she left.
A car arrives, followed by car doors slamming and voices, drawing our attention to the parking area behind us. It’s Sawyer and a very pregnant Kirilee with their three-year-old son Elliot.
Ava pulls in next to them, and when she steps out of her car, with the golden sun lighting up her pretty face and her kind brown eyes, I can’t help the stuttering of my heart.
“Whatever happened between you two?” Zach asks, his curious gaze flicking from Ava to me.
“We just drifted apart, I guess.” I’d be a shitty friend if I divulged that his and Sofie’s wedding worked as a catalyst to the demise of my relationship with my best friend .
His gaze softens with a kind expression. “Maybe you’ll drift back.”
I glance up at Ava as she laughs with Kirilee about something. “Maybe.”
After s’mores and a few of Jesse and Skye’s campfire songs, those with littles pack up and trudge to the cars. Ava and I help buckle kids into car seats and carry coolers, and after their cars pull away, an uncomfortable silence hangs in the air.
“Should we take care of the campfire?” Ava asks, glancing at the bed of coals glowing in the firepit below.
“I was going to crush the embers, then get water from the creek.” I shove my hands in my pockets.
I expect her to say goodnight, but there’s a part of me wishing she’ll stay.
“Can I help?”
Yes. No. “Sure.”
Back in the campsite, I use my poker stick to break up the coals, sending sparks popping into the darkness. Ava returns from filling the bucket in the creek. With her dark hair loose about her face in the glow from the dying fire, she looks like the horse-loving country girl I grew up with, only prettier.
Will there be a time when I stop thinking of her as mine?
“Ready?” she asks.
“Go ahead.” I snub the tip of my poker stick into the dirt.
With a whoomph , the water swallows the light and sends up a cloud of smoke.
“Let’s get one more to be sure.” I grab an empty water jug.
Ava falls in next to me as we walk to the creek. In the darkness, the water’s cool mineral scent tastes thick on my tongue.
We wade through the shallows to the deeper section. The cold water is a shock on my bare toes, but it’s a familiar feeling, one connected to home and this place that holds so many memories. Most of them with Ava. The best ones with Ava.
Crouching down next to her as we fill up, she’s just inches away, but it might as well be miles. I hate that I can’t touch her. Kiss her. Hold her.
“Why did you leave?” I ask as she lifts her bucket from the creek.
“What?” She tries to step back, but the cobbles near the deep part are slick and she stumbles.
I drop the water jug and lunge for her, catching her around the waist. The water in her bucket sloshes down our legs but at least I kept her upright.
“Damn it!” Ava says, panting against me. Her eyes flash with confusion in the darkness. “Hutch, what’s going on?”
I know I should let her go. But hasn’t that been my problem all along? I don’t want to let her go. I didn’t want it that night, and I don’t want it now.
How can I be what she needs so she doesn’t run again?
“Tell me why you bailed.” Everything is so bottled up inside me. I’m angry and frustrated and horny and sad and restless as fuck and it’s driving me crazy.
Her eyes turned pained. “Because that’s how things always end with you.”
“So it’s because of my past.”
“Yes.”
I close my eyes and rest my forehead against hers.
“But it’s also because of me,” she says softly. “What I want from a relationship.”
I huff a frustrated sigh. “And you’re so sure I can’t give it to you?”
She caresses the side of my face. Our eyes lock in the darkness. “We both know the answer to that.”
Ava’s always had her goals, from medical school and opening her own practice to starting a family of her own with someone willing to put down roots in Finn River. It’s a plan she’s talked about since we were kids.
Serving my country to the best of my abilities has been my goal since the day Dad took me to work when I was ten years old. The year before he left. That I qualified for pararescue and made it through training is the highest honor, and though I live for the adventure of my job, it’s something I don’t take for granted. These things we do, that others may live is not just some motto scrawled on a bumper sticker. It’s the code I live by.
“We were good together, Greely. Admit it.”
A flicker of a smile tugs at her lips. “Not bad for one night.”
My heart does a cartwheel. “Maybe we could try to make it last a little longer next time?”
The playful edge in her expression vanishes. “There’s not going to be a next time.”
“Why couldn’t there be?”
She places a hand on my chest, right over my heart. “Because the last time we tried, it nearly broke us for good, and I don’t want that again.”
“What if I wanted to try again,” I say, the words thick in my throat.
Her body releases a shiver. “Hutch,” she sighs. “What happens when your mom gets better? You’ll get orders to some exotic rescue base and you’ll be gone so fast I’ll be lucky if I get to say goodbye.”
“You could come with me.”
She slips from my embrace, shaking her head. “No. Hutch, don’t. We aren’t doing this. You don’t want that.”
“How do you fucking know?” I huff a breath to calm my rattled nerves. “Shit. Sorry.” This is the exact reason I don’t do this kind of thing. Not only do I suck at it, the rejection is fucking unbearable.
“I’m going home,” she says, and disappears into the darkness.
I stare up at the infinite stars as the cool air pricks my hot skin. “Wait up. I’m gonna follow you home.”
“You don’t have to,” she says, her tone heavy .
“I want to.”
She doesn’t answer, but she waits in her car for me to douse the last of the fire and climb into the truck. I should be driving home with her next to me, her hand in mine, then carrying her to bed so I can prove to her that we belong together. Maybe it’s not perfect right now, with our careers in such direct opposition, but that doesn’t mean it can’t change. Just because I don’t have it all planned out doesn’t make it impossible.
How can I make her believe in us?