Chapter 41
Willow
Grieving
Planning for the future
I’d been in a haze and then Hollis and Blaine had come over, surrounding me.
They’d both slept over, the three of us camped out in the living room with Gus.
Cruz was missing—my only real family, the one constant in my life was missing, and I’d tried to prepare myself over the years to hear that, especially since I’d initially researched what the PJs did, but the reality was different.
I’d wanted to curl into myself and hide from everything, but I couldn’t do that with my friends there.
That’s how it had been when Mom died—those were the closest emotions I could link this to.
I didn’t want this re-do, but it felt like I was getting it all the same.
And I hadn’t heard from Deacon since the morning prior.
He’d read my texts and told me that there was no update, but nothing substantive.
I thought we’d be in this together, but we weren’t.
I’d finally insisted Hollis and Blaine go home—their moms were returning from their trip that evening, and I didn’t want them to miss meeting them at the airport.
The house felt big and empty without them, though.
Alone, I’d realized I didn’t want to hide, not like I’d done in the past, even when things felt this dark.
That’s when I’d pulled out my laptop. The application materials were ready to go, and I read through my personal statement again.
I’d gone through ten drafts, trying to think of the right things to say.
I’d described my experiences volunteering and researching, what I’d learned from mentors and professors, and then there was the last paragraph, the one I was still debating.
There is a gap between earning my bachelor’s degree and applying.
You’ll see my work experience was as a receptionist, and my degree, in the end, was in Business.
This may look as if my interest in and commitment to studying Veterinary Medicine has wavered.
It never did, and I am beyond excited to begin studying to achieve my dreams of becoming a veterinarian.
I reread the last two sentences with my cursor hovering over the save-and-submit button, but I still wasn’t sure if it was enough. I sent a quiet hope into the universe that I could show it to Cruz and get his opinion. God, I hoped I could.
Gus nudged his snout against my hand, pushing me out of the fog.
I needed to move, and this wasn’t due yet.
I hit the save button, then a second time for good measure, and closed my laptop.
I pulled his leash from the hook by the door, and my phone buzzed as we stepped outside.
I fumbled with getting Gus’s leash attached as I hurried to read the message, anxious for an update from Deacon.
My stomach sank—it was only a reminder about my upcoming student loan payment.
Nothing about Cruz. Nothing from Deacon.
I looked down and realized the leash was on the ground unattached to Gus, but just then two cats shot out from a bush, and Gus was off in a flash after them, his powerful body in motion and too focused to listen to my commands.
He disappeared from view in what felt like an instant.
I clapped my hands, my palms sore from all the times I’d already tried to call Gus back over the last fifteen minutes.
I’d hoped he’d doubled back to get home, but I saw no sign of him.
First, Cruz went missing in action, and then I lost his dog.
I called for Gus again, imagining the worst, and my stomach sank as every minute passed when he didn’t respond.
“Low!” I hadn’t seen Deacon pull into the driveway, but he was climbing out of the truck, his long legs eating up the pavement as the streetlights kicked on in the fading daylight. “What’s going on? What are you doing out here? It’s going to storm soon.”
“Gus ran away,” I said, frantically searching back and forth around the neighborhood.
“I was clipping his leash on and two cats ran by and he just…took off.” I wrung my hands.
“I was so distracted. I should have put the leash on inside the house.” I looked over his shoulder at the Gus-less neighborhood, avoiding his face.
Deacon always saw everything, and he’d see my panic—it was so stupid to not check the leash.
Somehow, he’d see how I really felt, too. How much I needed him.
“Okay,” he said, his voice low and calm. “I can help. How long ago did he run off?”
“Fifteen minutes.” Tears pricked behind my eyes, and I finally met his gaze. “What if I can’t find him?”
“We will,” he said. He sounded almost detached, like he could control this situation through sheer force of will. “Which way did he run?”
I pointed west with a shaky finger. “I ran after him, but he’s so fast.”
“Okay.” He reached for my outstretched hand, and I thought he might pull me in for a hug, but he only nudged my arm down to my side.
“Take a few deep breaths and give me a sec.” He ran to his truck and pulled a flashlight from the glove compartment, jogging back with the light bobbling along the concrete.
“We’ll find him. C’mon—we’ll head back that way.
” He nodded back in the direction I’d come and stepped away from me.
A gust of wind picked up, and I hugged my arms around myself, feeling a hundred miles from him and everyone else, even though he was right by my side.
We called out as we walked, “Gus!”
“Gus!” My call followed his, and he gave a loud whistle, explaining he’d seen Cruz do that while training him.
I could picture that, Cruz whistling repeatedly until the dog picked it up.
He was patient like that. My head was jumping thirteen steps ahead of itself and always in the worst possible direction.
We followed the street to the path that led to the park Gus liked and wordlessly turned down the road. The wind had picked up, and a drop of rain grazed my cheek.
“Gus!” I yelled into the trees on either side of the path, listening intently for the rustle of leaves or brush or Gus’s loud, imposing bark. Nothing. On the other side of the path, Deacon ventured into the brush, calling out.
“You went to the recruitment office?” As I spoke, another drop of rain dotted my hand, and I shivered against the cool breeze. It was dark now, and the flashlight lit our path, leaving Deacon’s face shadowed when he answered.
“Yeah.”
“You’re going back, then? Back in?” I’d known that was his plan—I was even counting on us both leaving.
That was why my page two plan seemed like it could work, but lately I’d secretly hoped he wouldn’t.
Maybe he’d stay. Maybe I’d stay. I couldn’t imagine feeling this way if he went missing one day, too.
I hugged my arms again and studied his body language as he looked over my shoulder and called for the dog, flicking the light into the trees.
“Deac,” I said, reaching for his forearm, only to pull back when he flinched at my touch. “You’re going back?”
He shrugged and started down the path. “That was the goal.” The flashlight swept across the path in front of us and into the trees.
“So you can find him?” My voice was hard to hear as thunder rumbled nearby and a bolt of lightning shot across the sky.
I jumped at the crack and flash of light.
Gus hated thunder, and the idea of him cowering somewhere alone at the sound made my stomach clench.
“So you can find him?” I repeated. “Because I don’t think it works like that. ”
He bristled, his posture stiffening as we approached the clearing leading into the park.
A few more raindrops landed on my forehead, and I heard what sounded like a dog bark in the distance, but the sound was hidden beneath another roll of thunder, so it was hard to tell if it was real or just wishful thinking.
Deacon clapped his hands together, the echo bounding off the trees around us, and the tap tap tap of the raindrops hitting the leaves above us intensified.
He clapped his hands again and swept the light across the empty park. “I thought I heard barking.” He whistled for Gus again.
“Deac,” I said, hurrying to catch him. “Are you going to answer me?”
A clap of thunder shook the ground, and I jumped as the sky seemed to open up and sheets of rain fell all around us.
The rain was so intense, I could barely see beyond where we stood, and I jumped again when the next thunderclap was met with a flash of light that momentarily lit the sky in a ghostly white.
“C’mon.” Deacon grabbed my hand and tugged me forward.
The grass and mud of the park was slick with the onslaught of rain, and my foot sank into a few puddles.
The water squished between my toes until we reached the gazebo that sat in the middle of the park, where I could catch my breath from the run.
Deacon’s hand was still wrapped around mine, as we were both soaked through from the icy rain, his T-shirt clinging to him and hair dripping until he pushed it off his face.
He looked down at our joined hands, a pained expression passing over his face before he pulled away and fell onto the bench in the middle of the space.
He shone the light into the park, but it was no use.
We couldn’t see a thing until the rain let up.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
I sat on the other end of the bench—we were only a few feet apart, but it might as well have been miles.
Deacon seemed miles away from everyone in a way that worried me.
“Deacon.” I had to yell to be heard over the rain.
“Are you trying to get back in so you can find Cruz? So you can save him? Because you can’t. And he doesn’t expect you to.”
“I’m just trying to help you find the dog,” he said, pushing his wet hair from his face again. “That’s all I’m trying to do.”