Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Hurley
The men in this town can drink. In fact, I think most of them were already well into their cups before I showed up to the party.
Fortunately, none of them have noticed that I’m not drinking anything but water. Maybe I lied and said it was vodka, and the bartender played along.
I was never around a lot of drinking before I was kicked out of the church. And after the fact, it never appealed to me. I’ve always been in survival mode. Gotta keep my wits about me at all times.
But along with that comes walls. I’ve built up walls around me and never let anyone in, not even the people of Misty Mountain who genuinely like me.
Tonight, I’m actually enjoying the company of other people.
And it puts me in an even better mood, and I feel all the more excited to see Shenna. I can’t wait to bring her home. Boundaries be damned. We pretty much obliterated all boundaries when I lost control and made her come on my hand in the alley behind the general store.
I keep that story to myself when the guys ask how married life is treating me.
We need to proceed carefully. I need to do better, and keep control of my emotions. At least until Shenna is ready to discuss whether this thing we have is a real relationship, or one of convenience.
Earlier in the evening, Jack mentioned that Shenna had invited Clara to hang out at her house instead of going to Hank and Clara’s house for the evening. I decided it was fine. I’ve been overbearing with her, and I have to let her make her own decisions. No one will try anything tonight, especially if Clara keeps her company.
But when I park my truck next to Shenna’s broken-down car and look up at the third floor, I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach at the fact that all the lights are off.
It’s only 10 p.m., and I know she’s not asleep. Maybe she and Clara decided to watch a movie with the lights off, I tell myself.
I push down the nagging sense of dread as I climb the stairs. I come to Shenna’s door.
It’s been left open, which sends up all my internal alarm bells.
This is all wrong. Something is way off, and it’s my fault for leaving her alone. I could kick myself, but there’s no time for that.
I have to get to my wife.
I push open the door.
“Shenna?”
No answer.
I flick the light on, only to find the small studio apartment empty except for a mattress, box spring, and a few boxes.
“Shenna!”
Panic rises in my throat as I search the place, but it doesn’t take a detective to deduce that nobody is there.
But her car is here…
This doesn’t make any sense.
Unless…
Unless what I most fear happening has actually happened. Her stalker ex-fiancé found her, and now she’s gone.
I pound on the doors of every apartment, but no one is home.
Whipping out my phone, I turn on the “find” feature.
Evidently, I’m just overbearing enough.