Caught With the Sheriff (Heroes of Whispering Pines #2)

Willow

Sighing, I rub my eyes and stare at my computer screen, exhausted. Pushing back in my rolling chair, I growl and stand up. My hands grab my back and I groan.

I stumble away from the office and out into the hall, stunned when I see that it’s dark out. And I haven’t eaten all day.

Not that much of a shock since I was writing and I often lose track of time when I’m writing. When I can really manage to keep my mind on my work. That doesn’t happen very often anymore.

Stretching, I feel the twinge in my shoulder and side and wince. The scars ache a lot more when the weather is shitty like it’s been lately.

My eyes close and a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want to think about scars or anything else. I just want to write and be left alone.

There’s a knock at my door and my head whips around, my heart jerking into a cadence that should only occur when you’re running flat-out on a treadmill.

Another knock and my feet move backwards, trying to get as far from that piece of wood as I can.

I hit the doorway to the kitchen and drop to the ground behind the island, tucking myself as small as I can.

My tongue feels stuck to the roof of my mouth, dry as the Sahara.

My whole body shivers in my warm sweater.

It’s been a little chilly today and I’m easily cold.

Besides I only wear long sleeves and no shorts. To hide the damn scars.

Heart pounding, chest aching, I sit there and stare at that damn door so hard that I jump when my phone rings in my hand. I don’t even remember picking it up but I always try to have it on me. Just in case.

Sadly, I know exactly what just in case means.

My eyes dart down to the lit-up display and I draw in a shaky breath when I see that it’s Livvy.

My eyes don’t leave the door around the corner even as I answer. “Livvy? What are you doing calling me so late?”

“Because you never pick up your damn phone and I need to talk to you. Open the door.”

My head pops up and I stare harder at the door and then the phone. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m standing outside your door to talk to you because you won’t pick up your phone otherwise. I can’t believe you picked up this time. But it doesn’t matter. I need to talk to you. Open the door.” Her last sentence is clipped, abrupt.

She’s losing patience with me. She has been for awhile now. When it first happened she let me slip away. Let me hide.

But lately she’s been insistent that I need to get back out there. Need to talk to my fans.

Need to rejoin the land of the living. The last thing I want to do.

I hold the phone to my chest, not even bothering to hang up. I tiptoe down the hall and glance out the tiny sliver of glass at the top of the door that I traded out for the old glass one.

I want a helluva lot between me and anybody else who might be out there.

Livvy glares at me and mimes opening the door. Sighing, I hang up and open the door slowly.

She rushes inside and I slam the door behind her. “Finally! I thought I’d never talk to you again.”

“I’ve talked to you,” I sigh and head back to the kitchen.

“Texts. Only texts. I need to actually have a discussion beyond one word responses.”

“I’m not doing any book signings or appearances. Nothing.” I grab a leftover hamburger from the lunch I had delivered the other day and pop it in my microwave.

Listening to the whir of the motor and watching the lights, I try to ignore Livvy standing there staring at me. I know what I’m going to see.

Pain. Guilt. Anger. Remorse. Sympathy. A whole mixed soup of emotions that I know she has. Hell, I’ve had a lot of those same feelings myself.

But I don’t feel those things anymore. All I have now is fear. And that fear keeps me safe. I don’t care about a damn thing other than that.

“Will, come on…you need to move past this. I know it was scary. Hell, I still have nightmares about it so I know that you do. But you need to get back out there. Need to remember why you started writing. It wasn’t to hide from the world.

It was because you love it. I hate to say this, babe, but I’m not sure you do anymore.

Your writing seems so…cold, clinical. Detached. ”

My shoulders hunch. I know what she’s talking about. But I can’t change what’s happening to me.

I’m trying. Fuck am I trying.

“I’m trying, Liv,” I whisper.

She leans over and hugs me lightly, backing off when my shoulders scrunch up even more. She sighs heavily and I feel tears crowd my eyes. Sniffing, I push all that down.

“I know you are,” she says, her voice soft, caring. I hate that I’m making her work harder than it needs to be. I hate all of this. I hate how I’m feeling. I hate how I can’t feel.

I hate it all.

Closing my eyes, I lean against the counter, suddenly so damn tired I just want to go to sleep.

“I just can’t,Liv,” I whisper, so damn soft it’s almost non-existent.

She hears me though. And sighs heavily.

“Fine. I’ll let it go for now.” She reaches over and hugs me and my head drops to her shoulder. For just a second, I let my body sink into her warm embrace. Let myself relax. It feels like I never relax.

For such a tiny woman, she’s so easy to let hold the line for me. She’s my gatekeeper. My agent. My best friend. She’s taller than me but slender and fragile. Unless you fuck with her and then she’ll kick your ass without breaking a sweat.

She pulls back and glares at me, her soft blue eyes studying me closely. “Have you even left this house?”

My nose scrunches up. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, have you gotten dressed, locked your door, taken your car and driven to anyplace anywhere in this minuscule town?”

Choking on a laugh, I fight the smile trying to creep across my lips. “I don’t have anywhere I need to go.”

She shakes her head and her sleek, pale blond hair bells out around her face. “That is patently untrue. And it tells me everything I need to know.” She holds up her hand when I open my mouth. “Don’t bother. But sooner or later you’re gonna have to rejoin the land of the living.”

She reaches over and pulls me into a hug and whispers in my ear, “don’t let him win, babe.”

Tears crowd my eyes again and then she lets go and heads for the door. “I’ve got to head back to the city. I’ve got a meeting in the morning. My boss is getting kinda pushy about television appearances for your latest book.”

My mouth firms and I wrap my arms around myself. She sees it and growls.

“Fuck, I hate that guy.”

And then she turns and heads out the door without another word. She’s not talking about her boss though.

I know exactly who she’s talking about.

I hate him too.

* * *

Jerking awake, I snort and then freeze.

Footsteps. In my house. Slow, steady.

Terrifying.

My breath catches in my throat and my heart races like a wild animal. My eyes widening, I try to scrunch down as small as I can.

Prey.

With a sobbed, quiet breath, I grab my phone from the end table where it’s charging and yank it out of the cord, rolling off the bed silently and running to my attached bathroom, yanking the door, but closing it quietly, turning the lock and then backing away until I’m on the far side of the little room.

I dial for help.

One heartbeat, two heartbeats. My ears strain to hear anything. Everything. Then a woman’s voice answers. “Emergency. Do you need fire, ambulance or police?”

Her voice seems so calm. But I can’t pry my tongue off the roof of my mouth and my eyes stay locked on the door.

“Hello? Are you there? Can you answer me?” But I can’t say a damn thing. Not when I hear the step outside the door. See the knob turning slowly. My breath goes quiet when I put my hand over my mouth to still the scream that’s trying to come up the back of my throat.

My body stiffens, my blood freezing in my veins.

“Alright, I’ve got somebody on the way. Don’t hang up. I’ve got you.”

If only.

My eyes lock on the damn doorknob turning again. So slowly. Carefully.

He’s going to get me this time and there’s nobody here to help me. This is the end.