Chapter 5
Chapter Five
LOXLEY
It had been a long time since I heard my full name, but the moment I realized what Officer Brooks said, it was like a switch flipped inside me.
A flood of memories of the girl I used to be.
The one who dreamt of writing her own music and singing her songs to people who needed to feel them as deeply as she did.
Loxley Belle Anderson.
But that girl was a million miles away and the girl I was now didn’t have the energy to argue with Officer Brooks anymore.
Towing the car back seemed like a good idea, anyway.
I didn’t need it anymore, not now that I was where I had set out to be.
Harmony Haven. A place I could hide away for a little while.
“All I have to do is find a hotel,” I thought, the words slipping quietly through my lips.
If Officer Brooks heard me, he didn’t reply. He was pulling out onto the highway, waiting for a car to pass by as he did.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked, louder so I knew he heard me.
“Some place you can sleep.” His answer came with a shrug, as if it were no big deal that he was helping me with my runaway plans.
Instead of asking him to elaborate, I just assumed he meant a hotel, so I relaxed and leaned my head against the seat.
My eyes fluttered closed for a moment, the exhaustion catching up with me as the sun started dipping lower and lower.
I felt the weight of the day in my bones.
But I couldn’t succumb just yet, so I opened my eyes and tried to focus on something to keep me awake.
I found myself turning my head slightly, looking a little harder at Officer Brooks as he drove.
It was my first long, uninterrupted look at the man who had every right to lock me up and throw away the key.
Officer Brooks was tall—maybe 6'5—with dark blonde hair.
It reminded me of my natural color, before the label had insisted I bleach it so that I “fit in” with the other women who sang in my genre.
I couldn’t deny that Officer Brooks was incredibly good-looking. He had a chiseled jaw, strong and defined, and lips that he kept subconsciously licking. His uniform stretched tightly over his broad shoulders and biceps, and his arms flexed as he steered the wheel with ease.
Cop or not, I should have been a little more wary of a man I’d met barely an hour ago. Especially when we passed by The Harmony Hotel and turned down a dark and winding road.
A knot of uncertainty finally twisted in my stomach, but for some reason, my instincts were telling me to trust him. I couldn’t explain it. Maybe it was his calm, steady demeanor, or maybe it was just that I was too tired to question anything anymore.
Despite myself, a small laugh escaped, and I shook my head as the gravity of the situation suddenly found me.
“Just tell me the truth. Will I be a Dateline special in a few months? Maybe they'll find my body somewhere, but they’ll never suspect it was the cute cop who looked too much like a Ken doll to be a serial killer?”
“What?” he sputtered, a mix of disbelief and amusement in his voice. His head snapped in my direction, and I could see the shock in his eyes, though there was a flicker of laughter there too.
“It’s ok,” I assured him. “At this point, I’d rather be your hostage than go back to the tour. Tie me up, but just don’t tape my mouth, please. I need to be able to sing.”
“You’re quite the unpredictable rollercoaster,” he said with a small laugh, shaking his head. “But I’m glad to see you're back to being the charmer I met on the side of the road earlier.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was all over the place, up one moment, down the next, and now that I could be facing my demise, I was somehow feeling lighter than I had been earlier. It was probably some sort of survival mode that I had developed over the past two months on tour.
"Are you a good cop or a bad cop, Officer Brooks?"
"Both," he replied with a wink, barely taking his eyes off the road. "I’m being good right now, if that matters."
He pulled off the dark road and veered onto a narrow dirt path, and my anxiety heightened a little more.
But then we came into a clearing and the headlights of the car illuminated a large two-story house.
It was a strange mix of Victorian elegance and rustic cabin charm.
There were lights on the porch making it feel inviting and warm, as well as a lit-up path that snaked from the driveway. It was not what I had expected.
I blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Where are we?"
"My house," Officer Brooks replied, shrugging like it was no big deal. "It’s the only place I could think of where no one would know that Loxley Adams is in town. Tomorrow, I’ll help you get where you’re headed. I promise."
I started to tell him that Harmony Haven was where I was headed. But then I realized that it might sound like I was inviting myself to stay longer, and that definitely wasn’t the case.
Once the car was parked, he got out and jogged around the front, then opened my door. He extended his hand, offering me reassurance that I hadn’t realized I needed. His hand was warm against mine and he guided me with care over the rocky driveway, pointing out uneven spots so I didn’t fall.
When we reached the stairs of the porch, I hesitated for only a moment before walking ahead of him.
But as I got to the fifth and final step, his phone rang, cutting through the quiet and making me jump.
He raised a finger for me to wait, and I did, watching as he paced the sidewalk below the bottom step.
He was talking to someone named Linc, telling them he couldn’t make it to Fiddlers because he was sick, and that he’d see him at work. My instinct was to tell him not to change his plans because of me. But I couldn’t, nor did I think he would leave a stranger in his house alone.
When he ended the call, he gazed up at me with a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Something in the way he looked at me made me step down one stair, my body acting before my mind could catch up.
And then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me.
Officer Brooks was him.
The same man who had been standing at the bottom of the stairs the night I played in Harmony Haven. The same man whose kind smile and beautiful eyes made me feel so at ease. The same man whose touch had left a sear on my skin that lingered for weeks after I had left.
That walk down the stairs of the stage that night had been the last time I could remember feeling any semblance of peace.
But how could I tell him that? How could I explain why it took me all day to make the connection?
He’d never believe me, if I told him I had been too crazy all day to put it together until now.
He smiled and took one step up the stairs, closing the distance between us, and creating a level that made us eye to eye.
“Hey,” he said softly, reaching his hand out between us. I hesitated for just a moment, my pulse quickening, before I took it, awkwardly shaking it like we had just been introduced. “I’m Miles.”
“Loxley,” I replied, my voice a little shakier than I intended, but I forced a smile, trying to ground myself. “But you can keep calling me Lox.”
I kinda liked it.