27. Chapter 27
All day, I’ve been dealing with the residents of Bluebell Falls in all their lively glory.
And now, I’m twenty minutes from closing. Which, in theory, sounds great, except I haven’t heard from Oakley all day. I’m not normally one to jump to conclusions, but when I see a couple of SUVs full of guys built like tanks pull up in front of the sheriff’s office, I assume shit is hitting the fan. It has to be the task force Oakley used to be on.
And that makes me nervous. And scared. And a little panicky because I haven’t heard from Arlo at all since my phone call this morning.
It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine. There’s no reason to freak out when nothing has happened.
As I’m mentally reassuring myself, I see a man walk around one of the SUVs and jump in the driver seat, followed by someone jumping in the second one as well. They drive off before I can make sense of what I’m seeing.
Quickly looking around, I see the place is empty, so I lock the front door, not worrying about actual closing duties yet. My brain can only focus on one thing right now, and that’s trying to not completely lose my shit as my heart cracks in my chest from the unknown.
I plop down in one of the chairs facing the sheriff’s office and stare. I don’t know what I’m waiting for or expecting to happen, but I’m just hoping for a glimpse of Oakley. Just one little peek that lets me know he’s safe.
It’s too much to hope for—I know that deep down. He’s not the type to sit back and let other people fight his battles, but fuck if I wasn’t hoping some higher chain of command would step in and force him to stay put. He isn’t a Marshal anymore, after all, so it’s not completely unreasonable.
My leg bounces as my eyes stay firm on the door. I’m not even aware that I bring my fingers up to my lips and start chewing on my nails—a habit I only do when I’m especially stressed out.
When I realize I’ve gnawed off all my nails, I tuck my hands underneath my bouncing legs.
I’m an anxious mess.
Pulling out my phone, I pull up my messages with Oakley and send him a message, crossing my fingers that he sends me something, letting me know he’s okay.
Me:
Closed up shop. It was busy today.
Lame. So fucking lame.
Me:
Keep me updated if you can. I just want to make sure you’re okay.
Is my heart seeping through into my words? Because it sure as hell feels like it.
Knowing there’s a chance that Tennison is out there right this second, just waiting for him, is causing me to re-evaluate the way I pushed Oakley to go after him. Logically, it makes sense. But right now? Living in this limbo of having no idea what’s happening, if he’s okay or not, I wish I never told him to go. There’s a real chance I will lose him before I ever get the chance to tell him how I feel.
And how do I feel?
I think I always knew I was capable of loving him. It’s probably why I chose to stay away from him for so long. Deep down in my mind, I knew he had some sort of power over me, even if it was just sexual in the beginning.
Now? It feels like it was hopeless to ever think I could keep my heart from beating for him. He takes care of me and somehow knows what I need before I ever even realize it. I want to be just as supportive of him as he is of me, but this is literally killing me. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this anxious because this threat isn’t a deadline, isn’t disappointing fans. This threat is real. It has life and death consequences. And I can’t lose James. I refuse to.
I pop up from my chair and start pacing. I don’t know if I can just sit here and wait. I know Arlo and Oakley are more than capable, and add in the Marshal’s Fugitive Task Force, I know I bring absolutely nothing to the table. My only weapon is my brain, and Lord knows that’s a fucking mess right now.
No, going out there, where there is a possible psychopath is a dumb move.
I head upstairs, hoping I can find some sort of distraction.
Neurotically, I move from chair to chair, to the couch, then to the bedroom, trying to distract myself, but it’s impossible to stop thinking about all the possibilities.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and I almost throw it with excitement.
Rina:
Want to help me deliver a dining room table?
Me:
No. I mean, I probably should, but I can’t be that far away from town. Unless you’re delivering it in town, then possibly. I need more details.
I curse my rambling. If I wanted to seem put together and not have her question me, that was the exact opposite approach to take.
Rina:
Okay, lots to unpack here. First, are you okay? Second, it’s out of town, so I’ll take a raincheck.
Me:
I am … not okay, I think. There’s some stuff going down, and Oakley is out saving the world, and I’m so anxiety riddled I can barely think.
Rina:
I can push off the delivery. Do you want me to come and hang out with you?
Me:
Nah, I’m shit company right now.
Me:
Maybe I’ll just send a message to Arlo and hope he gets back to me with an update.
I send the second message without thinking about who I’m talking to, and her response tells me it was the wrong move.
Rina:
Oh, Mr. High and Mighty is involved? Not shocking. Trouble seems to find him more than not.
Shit. I don’t think I can tell her what is actually happening because I’m not even supposed to know. But I also know she didn’t always hate him and that they used to be close when they were young. Knowing he might actually be in danger might cause a different reaction.
Me:
Umm, kind of. It’s more like he’s helping … where he can …
Cryptic and tells Rina exactly nothing. Good job, Will.
Rina:
Umm, cool. He can still fuck off. Keep me updated, and if you need a distraction, I’ll be back at my workshop after this delivery. So, maybe two hours?
Me:
Sounds good. Thanks, Rina.
I have no clue what happened between her and Arlo, but it’s also not my place to tell Rina his business. Maybe when this is all said and done, this will be a wake-up call for both of them.
I pace around Oakley’s small apartment after putting my phone in my pocket.
It takes me five more minutes of pacing to say fuck it.
Maybe I can help, maybe I can catch Tennison unsuspecting, or at the very least, check out the cabin to see if it shows sign of usage.
Is this a stupid idea? Absolutely.
Will Oakley and Arlo probably kill me when they find out? Undoubtedly.
But I can’t just sit here doing nothing. What if I can help or find something they missed? I have to try if it means James coming back to me sooner and, most importantly, safe.
Decision made, I make sure I have my phone and keys, and then head out. The cabin is hard to find, and I have doubts that the crew will actually find it without help.
Yeah, this is the right thing to do.
Famous last words.