Two Wrong Turns (Love Sync Mates Season Two #9)

Chapter 1

Barrett

“Turn left at the next intersection.”

“There is no fucking intersection, Barbara!!” I screamed at the British voice calmly directing me through my phone’s GPS. While I normally loved her soothing tone, it was no longer a relaxing guide.

At some point after exiting the highway, she’d stopped being accurate. I didn’t know it was possible for that to happen, but I was the lucky son of a bitch who got to experience it firsthand.

This particular path of roadway was nothing but trees. Large, deep green trees that stood far taller than I thought possible. This was the kind of place people filled their Pinterest board with. The kind of place they wrote fairytales about.

If a castle popped up in the next five miles, I wouldn’t have been surprised. It was that damn majestic.

With the sun going down far faster than it ever had, I was running out of time to find a place to lay my head for the night. While I didn’t have a specific destination in mind for this journey, I had picked a town to stop in to ensure I could gas up and eat before getting to a hotel.

It didn’t look like I’d be lucky enough to get any of those things. My tank would be fine, but the lack of food and my exhaustion were a problem. Sleeping in my truck would take care of one part at least. Though it was going to be cold tonight. There was already a bite in the air that crept through the doors of this old truck.

If I’d known how bare bones the thing was, I might not have bought it. Sadly, I was in a rush to get out of town and there was no rationalizing the car buying process.

My life had been based on public transportation. What use did I have for a car other than when I was on vacation and needed a rental? Sure, I kept my license up to date and everything just in case. It wasn’t a necessity really.

Not until I decided to flee the city in a search to find myself.

Or more accurately, to find that spark.

The thing that lit me up inside and inspired me. Some called it a muse. I felt the word was too tame for how it made me feel.

Along with my lack of creative inspiration, I was so sick of the dating scene in the city. The men there were absolute trash. My last six dates had been nightmares.

Three of them were either married or in relationships, two had lied on their profiles, and one was so aggressive I had to sneak out the back door of the restaurant. It made more sense to leave everything behind for greener pastures, as my grandpa would have said.

He was born and raised in the country. From the stories my mother told me, he lived, breathed, and bled for their family land. She would have done the same had she not met my father while away on a school trip during her senior year of high school. The rest is history.

“Wish you were here, Grandpa. Maybe then you could give me some advice.” My voice trembled as fear began to take hold.

I had zero survival skills. Like absolutely none.

If it came down to protecting myself and weathering through it, I might not make it. I needed to find help, and I needed to find it soon.

Another thirty minutes and a dark sky later, I finally saw a glimmer of hope. A light shone in the distance. It flickered through the thick swaying branches of the trees.

Was it a figment of my imagination? Had I finally gone too long without food that I began hallucinating?

That was a thing, right? I’d seen it in movies about the desert and stuff. This was close enough, so I figured it counted.

I sped up a bit, my eagerness to find the light urging me forward. The clearer the area became, the more I realized it wasn’t a single light, but an entire barrage of them.

It was a… village. A town. I still couldn’t tell.

When I finally came upon the area, I realized it was actually a small town. Or at least, the outskirts of one.

Collier Cover. Population 621.

I stared at the sign, a sense of peace moving through me. 621. That was Grandpa’s birthday. Was this Fate’s way of giving me a hint I’d found a safe place for the night? Could I trust something so outlandish?

Whatever the case, I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to find a place to stay. I drove down the road taking in the dimly lit storefronts along the way. A hair salon. A bank. A post office. It was all so quaint and simple.

The only odd thing was how abandoned it all seemed. It was only eight at night. Where the hell was everyone at? Did this town really shut down this early?

It wasn’t until I got to the center of town that I started to see signs of life. I also came across my first stoplight. Maybe the only one.

A road crossed the path, putting me in the unfortunate situation of having to decide which way to go next. Thankfully, the people I’d spotted were headed towards a diner. It was the only place that had people moving and bustling about.

My stomach growled obnoxiously at the thought of food. I gave up the decision-making process for which direction to go as I parked in one of the available spots near the diner. Someone inside would surely know a place I could rent for the night.

As I climbed out, I took a deep breath. The fresh air boosted my spirits instantly. While I wasn’t an outdoors guy, I appreciated the beauty around me with an artist’s eye. This place was beautiful beyond anything I’d seen in the city. My fingers itched with the urge to grab up my sketchpad. It was buried in one of the many totes I’d used to secure my art supplies.

There will be time for that later. Maybe I could rent a place here for a few days while I reorient myself to a new destination.

A bell announced my arrival, while also drawing every eye in the place my way. I got a mixed sort of reaction from them; some smiles and others examined me like a mystery.

Ignoring the stares, I walked up to the counter. “Hi,” I said to the waitress who stood frozen across from me. Her eyes were wide and scared.

“Hello.” Her voice was whisper soft. It was a huge contrast to her appearance. Short black hair, tattoos for days over her arms and neck, and more piercings than I’d ever seen.

“Can I please get a menu? I’m starved.”

At my words, she jumped into action. The noise in the diner picked back up, though I had a feeling the conversations had shifted from whatever they’d been discussing before to figuring out who I was.

The waitress dropped a paper menu down on a table close to the long counter. It was one page long with only a few basic items. Luckily for me they had burgers and fries, which was exactly what I was craving. Nothing beats a hearty protein packed meal.

“Burger and fries, please. And a root beer for my drink. Do you have dessert?”

She pointed to a case along the back wall that I’d missed. It was filled wall to wall with pie. And not just regular pie. No, this pie was covered in thick whip cream. It was basically all I could see of the creations.

My mouth watered. “I’ll take two slices of pie too.”

“Any flavor in particular?”

I shrugged. “Surprise me. I’m not picky.”

She gave me a small smile, then went about putting together my order. I stayed facing forward since turning to look at the crowd might come across as antagonistic. Best to keep my curiosity to myself.

There was a napkin dispenser to my left, so I snatched a few to doodle on. I always kept a pen on me in case I felt inspired to get something down. For some strange reason, the atmosphere of this place had already unlocked weeks of creative block.

My pen flew across the napkin with practiced ease. I lost myself in the drawing while I waited on my food. It wasn’t until the plate set down in front of me and I jolted that I realized how long I’d gotten caught up.

It was also when I realized just what I’d drawn.

I groaned at the sight of the bear. The same damn bear I couldn’t seem to stop drawing.

It started a few months ago, popping up in various ways while I aimlessly worked. I had to force myself to stop drawing him, which, now that I thought about it, was probably what made the block happen.

Yet when I let my guard down and allowed my thoughts to flow, it’s exactly what I came back to. My work wasn’t in this style. I’d never even drawn animals. My work was more abstract and stylistic than the intricate detail before me.

“You drew this?” the waitress asked me.

I looked up at her, only to see a mix of awe and confusion in her expression.

“Yeah. I can’t seem to stop drawing it,” I replied.

“How long have you been drawing this?”

Her tone of voice made me pause. I didn’t know why my drawing caused such an intense reaction. Did she have a thing for bears? Did she want this particular piece?

Given it was on a napkin and not a canvas, I could easily hand it over. Though, a small part of me didn’t want to. It was the same issue I’d had before. If the bear showed up in my paintings, I wouldn’t allow them to be sold. I had a storage facility back in the city holding ten paintings that needed homes, but I couldn’t stand to part from.

Instead of answering her, I asked a question of my own. “What’s your name? You don’t have a tag on, and I don’t answer questions to strangers.”

I kept my voice light and teasing so she’d see I didn’t mean anything rude by it. It was more about curiosity and deflection while I decided how much to tell her.

“My name is Lindsea. I don’t wear a nametag because everyone in town knows who I am.”

“What about tourists and such? How would they know who anyone is?” It seemed a little silly to rule us out when we could bring in revenue to the business too.

Her eyes moved somewhere behind me, then back. It was like she was waiting for permission to speak. What she said next had me understanding why my arrival had drawn so much attention.

“We don’t get tourists. You’re the first outsider we’ve had come through in years.”

My jaw dropped. How was that even possible? How could a place like this sustain itself without income from other people? It made no sense.

And yet it didn’t look like anyone was going without. The town was fine how it was.

Only now they had an outsider in their midst. I wondered what that meant for me and just what my appearance here would change.