Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
ZACH
I wake up thinking about kissing Sofie and the way she gripped my waist, like she needed me to steady her. I close my eyes and relive the sensation of my feet in the cold creek and the clouds dancing overhead.
Her lips were so fucking soft. And she smelled so good.
Fuck if I don’t want more of it.
A lot more.
The memory of our kiss lingers throughout my morning, from barn chores to checking in with Stu to driving the ranch boundary to another area I’ve been asked to explore.
As I hike, I half expect to hear motorbikes, but there’s only the wind and the trickle of meltwater from the high country. Do I need to worry about Gabe? What about Jesse? I’m almost certain whatever he swallowed in that bathroom wasn’t a legal substance. In that moment outside the diner, I was about to intervene. But I saved my own skin instead.
What would have happened if I’d handled it differently?
By the end of the day, I’ve reached a high plateau with a hollow area partially hidden by a thick grove of trees.
It would be a perfect campsite. It’s level, protected, and, because of a rocky creek nearby, has a good water source .
The giant aspens up this high haven’t lost their leaves yet, which rattle in the cold breeze descending from the mountains. For some reason, the sound is eerie.
I nearly trip into a shallow hole because the wooded area is so shaded at this time of day. I squat down for a closer look. The ground’s been scraped out, but the dig marks are narrow—not from a shovel, or at least not a normal-shaped one. Decayed wood fibers are scattered around the edges. I scan the area, looking for more clues. I saw one like it yesterday, but it didn’t have these weird splinters.
I have no idea what these are. They don’t look man-made. Could animals carve out depressions like this for sleeping? It could be that something was buried here… which could fit with what I’m looking for. I make a note on my map. My burner phone’s camera is pathetic, and the darkness isn’t helpful, but I take a few shots anyway.
I continue, the terrain alternating between rocky and wooded. The light is starting to fade from the sky, leaching the colors. I hear distant rifle fire, but I don’t see any hunters. Some of the aspens have carvings on their barks, and I come across more of the old sheep fencing. It’s ancient and sagging but stiff. I’m tempted to spend the rest of the day ripping it out, but that’s not my purpose.
When I come to a hidden hollow, there’s a rundown-looking camper parked in the shade. This is forest service land, and plenty of people camp out here, especially during hunting season. It gives me creepy vibes, but for all I know, the campsite and dingy trailer are someone’s little slice of paradise. It could also be a meth lab. There’s no vehicle, but I notice a campfire ring and an enamel coffee pot next to a bundle of firewood. I mark my map and tuck it into my pocket.
Descending in the quickly falling darkness, the distant vroom of nighthawks hunting bugs reminds me of the owl Sofie and I freed two days ago. Did the bird survive? Where is she now?
It makes me think of Sofie and what’s changed between us.
With it comes Sawyer’s warning. He’s not wrong. The last time I got close to a girl, I got her killed.
Am I out of the frying pan, into the fire?
Before the Huttons took me in, I was running on fumes. Henry’s been right about Finn River having good people. But is it enough ?
Sheriff Olson seems to think so.
The last of the sun drops below the western hills, and in a blink, the air turns sharp with cold, pricking my cheeks and creeping into my fingers.
Inside the truck, I run the heater but it’s slow to warm the cab. Gratitude that I’m not curled up in some public bathroom somewhere makes me pause. Closing my eyes, I inhale a slow breath and let the feeling sink a little deeper.
Things are okay right now, but how much longer will that last?
Stu’s already left by the time I return, and I barely make it to the last employee bus in time. When I get to town, I’m hungry and restless. Henry and Barb are square dancing at the grange hall until ten, so I’ve got time to kill.
When I turn the corner, a lime-green neon sign in a window catches my eye. I’ve seen it before, but in the daytime, it looks a little dated. In the falling dusk, it looks like the center of the universe—dark and inviting and full of people.
The door swings open, the hinges squeaking, marking the otherwise quiet street with a burst of noisy hubbub from inside. An older couple walk out, the man’s arm slung over the woman’s shoulder as they stroll down the sidewalk. I check both ways, then jog across the street, threading two parked cars. Tacked to the door is an events calendar and a menu of pub food, but what gets me is the mouthwatering scents of the kitchen wafting past my nose. When a guy slips past me to enter, I get a glimpse of the pub’s interior—dimly lit and cozy, with booths lining the near wall and circular tables in the center, facing a stage.
I glance at the menu again and mentally calculate the cash stored in my pack. I still have half my savings hidden in the back panel, but I have a ten and a twenty in my wallet. Enough for a burger and fries, and a beer though I’m not about to flash my ID to get one. My stomach clenches in desperation.
“Welcome to The Limelight,” an older woman with short hair says over the loud music and chatter as I step to the hostess stand. “I can put you at the bar?”
I’d feel safer in one of the booths. “Sure,” I say with a stiff nod.
The hostess leads me past the other patrons to an open stool and drops off the menu. “Kitchen closes at eight for the show.”
Show? Something clicks in my memory—this is the place Sofie mentioned, the live music venue. I search for a clock, but the reflection in the mirror over the bar catches my attention instead. In the crowd is a group of people I recognize, lit by that neon sign in the window.
Gabe and two others are sitting around one of the tables in the center of the room, drinking Bud from the bottle, their laughter rising above the din. Two girls, one in a jean jacket and the other in a V-neck shirt, are tucked tight between them. I don’t recognize them, and I’m relieved one of them isn’t Sofie.
Does he regularly treat you like that?
Not anymore.
What the fuck does that mean?
“What can I get you?” The bartender leans closer, his earnest face turned slightly away so I’m closer to his ear.
I rattle off my order, and he nods before tucking the menu under his arm and hurrying to the console to type it in. He returns with an icy fountain Coke and a straw still wrapped in the paper. The first sip is pure bliss. Sweet and cold. Another wave of gratitude trickles down through me. Though I have one eye on Gabe, the bar is busy and noisy, and I relax a little.
My burger and fries arrive in a waft of grease and savory grilled meat. Even my plate is warm. I tuck in with a bite of my thick burger. Flavors explode on my tongue. The char from the grill and the tangy sweetness of the ketchup are a perfect blend with the melted cheese and the soft bun. I try to chew slowly and enjoy each bite, but I’m so empty that my hunger is in charge. Only when I get to the fries do I start to slow down. At some point, the bartender brings me a fresh Coke and another napkin. I nod to him in thanks, but he’s already back to pouring beers.
My stomach expands in the most pleasant way. I take my last gulp of my coke as a sendoff. The bartender swoops in.
“Need another one?” he says over the music. “Looks like you could use it.”
I give him a smile and shake my head .
He slides my tab from his back pocket and sets it in place of my plate, then peels away again.
I take my bill to the end of the bar. After paying, I give the mirror another glance before heading for the door. A three-person band is setting up on the little stage, and more people have packed into the space. I zero in on a face I recognize.
Sofie.
She’s wearing a pale blue sweater, with her hair wavy and loose down her back, and a denim skirt and boots. In the dim lighting, her excitement is clear on her pretty face as she talks with her friends.
“Like what you see, asshole?”
I spin, nearly crashing into Gabe.
Shit. The first rule in staying alive is to watch your back. I shouldn’t have let Sofie distract me like that.
I try to slip by Gabe, but he blocks me.
“What’s your problem?” My voice is calm but that won’t last if he gets in my face.
Gabe’s dark eyes narrow. He’s taller than me by an inch, and meaner, but that’s where his advantage ends.
“It was you the other night. In town.”
I give him a blank look. “Is there a point to this conversation?”
“What are you doing in Finn River?”
“Why does it bother you so much?”
The tension buzzes between us as we stare each other down. A guitar chord strummed from the stage draws a few cheers and scattered applause from the crowd.
With one last menacing glance, Gabe steps past me.
A flash of blue in my peripheral vision pulls at my attention.
“Hey, you’re here.” Sofie’s smile falters. Confused, she follows my gaze.
I need to get out of this bar so I can think. “I was just leaving.”
“Why? Because of him?” She turns to me, her eyes worried. “Stay for a little longer. Please?”
I shuffle through the growing crowd, but Sofie sticks to me like glue. Outside, the cool air makes my throat spasm shut, like I’ve sucked in ice crystals .
“Zach, wait!”
I spin on her, my head thick with questions. “Did you tell him I was here?”
Her eyes flash. “Who, Gabe? No.”
“How about Jesse, does he know?”
She cocks her hip and stares me down. “No. Zach, why are you so upset?”
“Because I can’t make this work if my name gets out.”
“Make what work?”
Shit. I didn’t mean to let that slip. Another reason why I need to get out of here. I lean back against the building and release a hard breath into the night. The puff of condensation clears, revealing pale stars in the dark sky.
“You hold on tight to the people you care about,” I say.
She crosses her arms and fixes me with a steady scowl. “Yeah, but?—”
“You’d do anything for them, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“It’s the same for me.”
Her eyes turn pained. “Your family?”
The thought of packing everything up and stealing into the night so I don’t have to say goodbye to the Huttons is like an ice pick to my brain.
But it’s the right thing to do. I’ve gotten too soft here. Too complacent.
“You want me to talk to him?” Her voice sounds different. Higher. Like she’s frightened.
“That’s probably exactly what he wants.” I push off the wall. I need to keep moving. Think this through.
“He won’t mess with you if I tell him to back off.”
“Why would he listen?” The second I ask it, I know the answer. “I thought he was your ex.”
“He is.” She tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “It’s complicated.”
My core hardens into a tight knot. “Uncomplicate it for me.”
Her lips press together and she drops her head, as if focusing on the pavement is going to make what she has to share easier somehow. “He was there for me when my mom left. First, as a friend. We dated for a while, but it’s over. I know he can be a jerk, but he’s helped me… help Jesse.”
I tuck away that little fact about her mom for later. “What’s wrong with Jesse?”
“I’m not sure.” Her heavy sigh echoes through my bones. “I thought it was getting better, but since the accident…”
My anger at her brother’s recklessness fires through me, and thanks to how spun up I am right now, it’s hard to dial it back.
“Gabe got a DUI taken off Jesse’s record so our dad didn’t find out.”
It sounds manipulative as fuck to me. “In exchange, he acts like a caveman?”
Her eyes soften, the blue edged with violet in the low light. “Think what you want about me. I was desperate to keep my brother safe. To keep my family together.”
I rub my face with my palm. “I don’t mean to judge. I’m sorry.” My insides feel shredded and raw, and I don’t like it because there’s nothing I can do to make it better. I shouldn’t care who Sofie’s been with, and I shouldn’t care that he obviously hasn’t let her go. But I do care, and it’s aggravating as fuck.
“Why do I feel like if I let you leave, I’m never going to see you again?”
I give her a look. “Let me, huh?”
She scoffs. “Can I at least give you a ride?”
“And let you miss out on the party?” I nod toward The Limelight.
“Let me?”
I shake my head. “Someone has to look out for you. Since you’re so busy looking out for everyone else.”
“I’ve been doing both just fine until you showed up.”
She’s annoyed? Interesting. “So I’m the bad guy.”
“Yes.” Her eyes flash, but her annoyance is fading. She likes this game we seem to be playing.
“Saving your life really put a hitch in your plans, huh?”
Her expression turns thoughtful. “Promise me I’ll see you tomorrow. ”
I give her an exaggerated shrug. Maybe it’s wrong, but irritating her is helping me reclaim at least some control over this situation.
“Zach.” The way she says my name like a moan sends a tingling jolt to my cock. Before I can get any more carried away, I turn away and keep walking.
At the end of the block, I sneak a glance over my shoulder, but Sofie’s gone. Part of me is relieved, and the other part is wondering what would have happened if I’d taken her up on her offer for a ride. My dick gives an unhelpful twitch inside my jeans.
Yes, I want to kiss her again. To cradle her body close to mine. To hear her moan my name while I take my time exploring every inch of her. I’d start with soft caresses, then when she needed more, I’d give it to her. As many times as she could take it.
Given the dry spell I’ve had, that could take a while.
I force out a slow exhale.
I tell myself it’s just lust. It’s her sass. And her tight curves. And her soft, sweet kisses. And her obnoxious curiosity. The way she treats me.
Like someone who matters.
What I wouldn’t give to turn the tables. Make her everything that matters. At least for a little while.
Fuck!
I can’t be more to Sofie Whittaker than I already am.
The growl of an approaching vehicle pulls me back to the dark street and my long walk. Headlights wash over me as the vehicle nears. But instead of passing, the vehicle accelerates. I glance over my shoulder, but the high beams sting my eyes.
What the hell?
Alarm bells erupt in my brain. Before I can question what I’m doing, I take off, cutting through a parking lot. The engine roars behind me, tires eating up the gritty pavement.
I dash between two cars and then sprint for the opposite side of the lot. My backpack swings violently between my shoulders as I run. The headlights swing around until they’re centered on me. Lighting up the chain link fence ahead—a dead end.
Shit!
Who would chase me like this ?
Before I landed the gig with Burnout Symphony, I did things to survive. Like running. Like stealing. I got better at hiding and knowing when it was time to move on. They aren’t skills I’m proud of, but they were necessary.
There’s no other way out of the parking lot. I’ll climb the fence. And if I can’t escape, then I’ll fight.
The headlights get closer as the vehicle races around the parked cars and heads straight for me, tires squealing. I race forward, my breaths loud in my throat and my legs burning with fatigue.
I leap onto the fencing and start climbing, but someone grabs me from behind, pulling me back. I coil up and kick, but my attacker is ready with a counter move that throws me face-first onto the ground. I roll and spring to my feet. Something slams into my side, and I go down, my knees cracking on the pavement.
I can’t breathe, but if I don’t move, I’m in for worse. I lunge forward, hitting my attacker in the middle. He’s solid, but I’ve surprised him. He grunts and stumbles back. I use the momentum like a linebacker. We crash into the front of the vehicle. Something crunches.
Another blow, this time from behind me, slams into my lower back. Pain erupts up my spine, and my knees buckle.
My backpack is ripped from me as I go down, but I’m in so much pain, my cry of resistance sounds garbled. I stumble into a parked car, smashing my shoulder. Car doors slam, and the headlights recede. I grip the hood of the car like my life depends on it. God, the pain.
Tears sting my eyes and I’m shaking. Everything important to me is in that pack. My saved cash. My phone. My sketchbook. The Leatherman tool my dad gave me.
“Zach!”
Pain is everywhere, stealing my breath. My arms are shaking so bad. I need to let go of the car, but then what? Can I walk?
“Zach, oh my god.” Sofie’s panicked tone mixes with the rushed tap of her boots as she hurries to me. “What happened?”
I shake my head. “They took my pack.”
“One of them had a bat. You’re hurt.” She slides one arm under my shoulders and gently takes my weight.
I cry out as the shift in my position jostles whatever’s broken .
“I’ve got you. Zach, let go.”
The effort it takes me to let go of the hood and lean into her makes me huff and pant. My stomach lurches, and I’m helpless to stop the bile from rising into my throat.
I inhale a slow breath of the cold night air. “What… are you doing here?”
“Giving you a ride,” she replies.
“Stubborn,” I grit out. Walking and not hurling are taking a lot of focus.
She grunts from the strain. “So I’m told.”
We reach the passenger side of an ancient Jeep Wagoneer with faux wood paneling. There’s no sign of the two people who jumped me. Or their vehicle. I know it was black. And I think I might have broken a headlight.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.” Sofie reaches for the door.
“No,” I bark.
Sofie sucks in a shaky breath. “Fine, then I’m taking you home.”