Chapter 9
AVERY
By the time Booker and I finished our morning round of love making, and then discovered some creative uses for the shower, my cute flannel was in need of a wash, and we'd missed the chance to get a good spot for the parade viewing.
I can't be bothered to be bothered by it in the slightest though, not when Booker has his arm wrapped around my shoulder protectively as we make our way along the crowded sidewalk in search of a place to watch the parade-- and hopefully, someone selling hot chocolate.
He's made it clear he's not faking it. Maybe we're still only pretend engaged, but the kisses he drops against my temple as we walk are real, as are each of the deep, heated ones he steals from my mouth anytime we stop long enough for them.
And since I'm enjoying them very much, I make sure we stop often.
"That's good." I point to an open space under the awning of one of the little shops that are closed for the holiday.
"Can you see?" Booker asks, moving to my back and wrapping his arms around me.
"It's good," I confirm, leaning back against his chest.
As much as I enjoy the warm, solid feel of him, I know he's not just the loving boyfriend keeping me warm and wanting to snuggle-- he's still part bodyguard, and the hold he has on me as we watch the floats carrying scout troops and daycare groups make their slow cruise down the main street is a protective one.
Meanwhile, I'm still scanning the street, hoping to see if the coffee shop is open for the parade.
Booker taps my arm, holding his phone in front of me so I can see the notification he just received.
"Did you get this?" He speaks close to my ear, but it's still hard to hear over the sounds of the parade and the crowd.
Shaking my head, I remind him that I'm still keeping my screen time to a minimum-- just a few calls to my mom to keep them updated.
"And posting on social media," he chides.
"It doesn't count if I'm only posting," I explain with flawless logic. "I'm not checking to see who comments or reacts."
His face tells me he's very aware of all the holes in my argument, but he doesn't point them out.
"They caught him," he points at the story his notification linked to. "Congratulations, cupcake, you don't need a fake a fiancé anymore."
Well, that kinda sucks.
"I still need a real boyfriend, though."
"Hell yeah, you do, baby."
When he breaks the kiss to let me up for air, his eyes focus on something in the distance.
"Wait here and enjoy the parade. I think I found someone handing out some of that caffeinated syrup you like. Be right back."
I get another quick kiss and then he jogs away, pushing through throngs of people until I lose him in the sea of hoodies and beanies and children perched on fathers' shoulders for the best view.
The marching band heads up the street, and I move closer to the crowd along the curb for a better view of the adorable group of pre-K kids from a local dance studio, all moving chaotically out of sync while an instructor tows a wagon with Rudolf the Red Nosed Reindeer blasting from a speaker.
It's so cute it makes my chest hurt.
I can't help myself when the idea of me and Booker one day watching our own kids doing something like this pops into my head. Even though I know it ridiculous. It's way too early to start thinking like that...even if it does feel suspiciously right.
When I feel him step up close behind me again, I start to turn around to point out the munchkins in their dance costumes-- just to get a read on his reaction. But when a strong arm snakes around my waist, I immediately know it's not Booker.
The marching band is passing by, and I must have landed in the middle of the band booster group or something, because the people around me all go wild when the band gets to us.
It's too loud for anyone to hear me shouting as Clayton drags me away from the crowd.
Booker
Avery's moved from the storefront where I left her, but when I look around, I don't see her among the townspeople. She's not on the sidewalk looking into windows either.
A cold feeling creeps up my spine as I scan every red scarf and beanie in the crowd.
My phone buzzes in my pocket and relief sinks in. Expecting an update from Avery saying she found some open candy shop or a diner with homemade pie, or something. That cold feeling returns when I see her brother's contact on my phone instead.
Missed call, not a text.
I'm so distracted as I walk up a side street to get away from the noise of the parade that I find myself drinking the hot cocoa I bought for Avery without even noticing the abundance of peppermint syrup and sprinkles on the whipped cream.
"Have you heard from Avery?" I bark out at Cap when he answers on the first ring.
"Did you listen to my voicemail?"
"No, I called back right away... have you heard from her? I can't find her."
"What do you mean 'can't find?' I told you not to let her out of your sight!"
The sweetness of the drink suddenly hits me and I toss the rest in a nearby trashcan as I turn back and scan the parade block away.
"I got the notification that they got Clayton back behind bars this morning," I explain, running my free hand through my hair and feeling more uneasy by the second.
"We're stuck in some little town called Hope Peak, so we're watching their Christmas parade.
I went to get her a hot chocolate and she's gone. "
"Fuck," my buddy mutters. "I was just calling to give you the heads up that the story turned out false.
The press misidentified the guy they brought in.
It wasn't Clay. Look, I can call Frost and see if he's got resources available, but things up here are kinda out of hand right now. Just... find my sister, Talbot."
Cap might still be talking when I end the call for all I know-- or care. Keeping Avery safe isn't just a favor to a friend anymore, it's my life's purpose.
"Excuse me?"
A vaguely familiar woman stands in front of me, looking concerned.
"I was hoping I'd find you." She wrings her hands and I recognize her from the drive in where we had lunch yesterday.
"Your fiancé... I saw her leaving the parade with another man.
It didn't look like she wanted to go with him, but it was so loud and I was on the other side of the road with the parade going by. .. um..."
She taps her phone screen. I hear the band playing through the speaker and sounds of people talking and cheering in the crowd near where the video was taken. Her fingers move on the screen, zooming in and then pausing the video.
"There. You can see which way they went."
"I owe you a bigger tip," I shout over my shoulder as I take off running in the direction that fucker was dragging my girl in the video.