Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
JESSICA
“You sure you’re up for this?” Mae asks me for what feels like the hundredth time as we get out of my car.
“Yes, I’m sure. I think if I stay huddled up at Matthew’s place, I’ll go crazy.”
Well, that’s a lie. I’m not really sure, but I don’t have other options. I can’t keep hiding forever.
“I know, but you said it yourself, they weren’t able to arrest Damien,” Mae points out.
My lips press into a tight line. “Because apparently he has an alibi for that night.”
“That’s bullshit if I’ve ever heard it. His buddies don’t count as an alibi.”
“Apparently, the police think otherwise.”
“Police think.” Mae snorts. “Well, if you want to get rid of him, just say the word, and we can do it together and then be each other’s alibis. All our problems would be solved.”
A surprised chuckle escapes me. “Thanks?”
“Anytime. But seriously, who do they think could have done it, then?”
“They don’t know.”
And neither do I. That’s the problem. The thing that keeps me up at night. The thing that makes me look over my shoulder. I have no idea who else would have done something like this. Or why.
Nico asked me that same question when he called me to give me an update on the case, but I had no answer for him that day, and I haven’t been any closer to figuring it out since. It’s been the only thing I’ve been thinking about for the last week.
Who would do something like this? Why me? Out of all the people in this town, why would they target me?
Everything about the notes and break-in was personal, and the only person I have beef with is Damien.
Soft whispering has me looking up to find a group of people talking in front of Scoops, their faces serious.
“Have you heard any news from Matthew?” Mae asks quietly, tipping her chin at the group.
I shake my head. “No. We haven’t really talked much.”
Matthew texted me the day they arrested Damien. He told me the same thing I heard from Nico, and said not to expect him to come because there was a break in the case of the missing girl, so he was going to have to stay overnight.
The break being, they found her dead.
Just thinking about it makes me shudder. “I can’t believe she’s gone. She seemed so sweet.”
“Apparently they found her in the woods,” Mrs. Darrow whispers to her companions as we pass by them on the way to the gym. “She was pretty beaten up. Somebody tried to bury her, but they didn’t dig deep enough, so one of the hunting dogs found her.”
Other women gasp at the news.
“That poor, poor girl,” somebody says.
Mae’s elbow bumps against mine as she moves closer. “Talk about fucked-up. First, your break-in. Now a murder? What’s next?”
The hair at my nape rises at her comment, an uneasy feeling settling in my gut.
All bad things come in threes.
So what’s next?
Mae shakes her head. “Talk about a charming small-town life, huh?”
“Yeah, charming indeed.”
Unable to shake this feeling, I look up, my gaze scanning the street. I’m not even sure what I’m looking for until I spot him.
Damien.
He’s standing across the road with one of his buddies, a deep scowl etched on his face as he glares straight at me, which makes me shudder.
“Fucking asshole,” Mae mutters as she slips her arm through mine and tugs me in the opposite direction, her gaze throwing daggers at the group.
I nibble at the inside of my cheek.
“It’s him, right?” Even as I ask, I can hear the uncertainty in my voice. “It has to be.”
“He’s probably just way better at hiding it. Then again, most narcissists are.”
I nod, although I can feel doubt sneaking in.
Because what if it’s not him?
I’m still unable to push aside that unsettling feeling after I drop Mae off at her place once we’re done with our Pilates class.
Not after seeing Damien shoot me a death glare.
If he was pissed at me before for breaking it off, I don’t even want to think about how he’s feeling now that he’s been brought into the station and has been accused of the break-in.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel, my palms sweaty. Maybe now he’ll finally realize that we’re done and leave me alone.
That’s the hope, right?
I slow down as I approach the big butter-yellow house that comes into view. It’s late, and the lights are on downstairs, figures moving through the rooms as they go about their daily lives. I slowly continue around the house and toward the back.
Nico told me earlier that my place had been cleared and I could come home any time, but just the thought of going back to my house makes a cold sweat wash over me.
I’m not ready to go back.
Not even close.
It feels… violating.
Having someone walk through your space, touch your things, and destroy them? I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to look at it the same way. Ever be able to feel safe in my own home. I’m not sure what that even means for me, but I’m not ready to deal with it. Not just yet.
Matthew’s cottage comes into view. The place used to be one of the ranch hands’ lodgings, but it was recently renovated, and Chase let Matthew stay there after Rose and her son moved in with him.
Putting the car in park, I kill the engine and grab my bag, but when I look up, it’s like I’ve been thrown back in time.
The pitch darkness.
My breath gets stuck in my throat as I stare in front of me. My body is completely paralyzed with sheer panic as I fight for air.
Why is it so dark?
Matthew usually has a light on the porch.
Why is it not working?
My line of vision narrows, black spots dancing in front of my eyes, as the ringing in my ears intensifies and my breathing becomes ragged. Snapshots of that night pop into my mind.
The looming darkness.
The creak of the steps.
The shadow of the person coming out of my house.
My trashed place.
Deny it all you want, but you’re mine.
You’re mine.
Min—
“Jessica!”
The sound of my name pierces through the loud buzzing in my ears.
Blinking, my vision comes into focus, and I’m greeted by Matthew’s worried face.
He takes me in, quietly assessing me. Callused fingertips press into the back of my neck.
There is a bite to his touch, but I welcome it as he pulls me out of the car and into his arms.
“Hey, it’s fine.” His lips brush against my temple. “You’re fine.”
Letting out a shaky breath, I sneak my arms around his middle and burrow my face in his shirt. His spicy scent surrounds me, another link to reality.
Matthew is here.
I’m not alone in the darkness.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
My fingers fist his shirt, holding on for dear life.
I’m fine.
Matthew pulls me flush against him, his fingers sprawling across my back. I’m not sure how long we just stand like this, holding on to one another. It could be minutes or hours, but he doesn’t rush me or let go.
“I’m good.”
Sucking in a shaky breath, I pull back, wiping at my face before I lift my gaze to meet his worried eyes.
“Really. It’s just…” I glance away. “The light didn’t turn on. But I guess I just didn’t come close enough and… Damn, I’m acting crazy.”
I bite the inside of my cheek so hard that I can feel the coppery taste on my tongue.
Matthew’s fingers slip under my chin and turn me to face him.
“You’re not acting crazy. You’ve experienced trauma, and your body is still in fight-or-flight mode.”
Logically, I know he’s right, and yet…
“I hate it. I just want things to go back to normal. I don’t want to keep looking over my shoulder or be afraid of walking in the dark.”
Matthew opens his mouth, but no words come out. Pressing his lips together, he just stares at me for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I have an idea.”
An idea?
“What kind of—”
He pulls back, but his hand still holds mine. “Do you trust me?”
Pressing my lips together, I nod slowly, not even having to think about it. “I trust you.”
Matthew’s face softens at my words, almost like he wasn’t sure what my answer would be. Fingers interlocked, we walk down the path I just came from, and before long the main house appears, but instead of going there, he leads me to… the barn?
My brows pull together in confusion. My fingers grip Matthew’s tighter as we’re surrounded by darkness, but the panic isn’t nearly as intense with Matthew at my side.
There is a soft click before the light flickers on, blinding me temporarily.
I blink to clear my vision; the space coming into focus.
“What is this?”
“Chase’s gym.”
The space is minimalistic. There is a treadmill along with a weight bench and a rack with different weights neatly put together. A punching bag hangs from a thick chain in the middle of the room.
“He doesn’t really do people, so he made this space for himself when he was going through PT,” Matthew explains as he slips in between the machines.
I’m still taking it in when he comes to a stop in the middle of the mat and turns around to face me. It takes me a heartbeat to realize why we’re here.
I shake my head immediately. “No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Matthew. I’m a nurse, not a fighter.”
“And you don’t have to be.” Matthew places his hands on my shoulders gently. His words are spoken softly, so softly they make my chest ache. “I need you to be a survivor.”
“Matthew…” A knot forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe.
Those large hands skim upward, his palms cupping my cheeks as he tilts my head back.
“You’re scared, and that’s normal. Somebody invaded your privacy and took away the sense of safety you had in your home. The only way you can get back some semblance of control is by taking the initiative. Knowing that if something like that happens again, you can fight back and come out on top.”
His face is serious, a perfect mask of composure, but I can see the cracks hidden in his irises. The smidge of worry. Fear.
“I can’t fight.”
“Sure, you can. I’ll teach you.”
“I…” My tongue darts out, sliding over my lower lip. “Fine, but I’m going to suck at it.”
Matthew’s shoulders relax after a heartbeat, the corner of his mouth tipping upward. His thumb skims over my cheekbone. “We’ll see about that.”