Chapter 4
4
Ryan
Ryan scratched his head, trying to figure out how to find Sam. He started by sending him a text.
Ryan: Hey mate, where are you?
Ryan: Sam, I want to get to bed. Where are you?
A deep breath left his body when no response came from his cousin. Why am I not surprised?
People were still hanging around in groups, talking outside their camp spots. Unlike him, they weren’t ready for the night to end. A longer day at work, followed by the drive down, started to hang heavily on his shoulders. Come on, Sam, I want to go to bed.
Ryan: I’m going to my truck.
Ryan listened to the voices and scanned faces, hoping that Sam would appear. He tried to estimate how much of his typical week he spent trying to work out where Sam had disappeared to. At work, they called Sam ‘Houdini’. Luckily, they were both employed by his dad, who knew they both worked hard.
Over the years, Ryan had developed the skill of finding him. At three years old, Sam would hide in small spaces, cupboards and under beds. Ryan’s mum made it his task to find him. Knowing how scared Sam could be, it became Ryan’s life mission to protect him.
In the dark, Ryan moved away from the crowds. He stumbled and found himself sitting on the grass. A vision of Alice’s troubled face tonight flashed through his mind. Tom Clark clearly hurt her. He had never seen her so withdrawn. He couldn’t help laughing at Tom ending up with Christa. If Tom weren’t such a giant prick, I’d warn him about Christa Marx. Actually, they probably deserved each other. Then, in a surreal moment, Christa herself walked over and held out her hand to help him up.
“Fancy seeing you here.” She smiled. Ryan’s famous smile had disappeared.
“What at a volleyball tournament? Because I’ve never shown any interest in the sport before,” he sneered. “Don’t make me laugh. Why are you here, Christa? Camping and sport aren’t your thing.”
“Tom hired this cute camper for the weekend. He’s such a darling.” Why is she smiling? “What were you doing with that mousy girl? Hardly your style, is she?” Ryan didn’t reply; he simply stared up at Christa. “I see you’re on your own now … were you looking for me, Ryan?” She trailed a finger down his face.
Ryan’s stomach clenched as he swiped her hand away.
“I thought you were here with Tom.” Ryan got to his feet, ignoring Christa’s offered hand.
“Ryan Fields, you know you only have to say the word, and I’ll be there.”
“I’m pretty sure I’ve made myself clear, Christa. I don’t need your sort of drama. Now excuse me.” He could hear the forced laughter from Christa as he walked away.
“Damn!” I’m sure this is where I left the truck. And there it was, the confirmation that he wasn’t wrong. His sleeping bag and his rucksack stood right on the spot where his truck had been. Bloody Sam! So now, what do I do?
The idea of Alice alone in that blue tent danced in his brain. It was an ideal solution. With more time, she might be ready to talk. And if Christa did get tired of slumming it with Tom? I’d be there to protect her. Hopefully, I can help her see she would be better off without that prick. But is she safe around me?
Picking up his things, he took a direct route back to where he’d kissed Alice. Part of him hoped he would find another solution, but mostly, he hoped he wouldn’t. When the minuscule tent came into sight, the knot in his stomach returned. What could he say that Alice wouldn’t feel threatened? She’d already put up the barriers when he offered to walk her back. How would she respond to the idea of him sharing her tent?
He tapped gently on the canvas, afraid to wake her if she had fallen asleep. To his relief, he heard her moving towards the door. When she opened the flap, a beautiful smile lit up her face as she saw him.