Chapter 24
Emersyn
My heart pounds in my chest as I take the last sip of my coffee. Turner has gone silent, leaning against the counter watching me. I don’t care that he had a phone and didn’t tell me. I don’t care that he killed Adam. I don’t care that he might be borderline insane with violent urges. I don’t even care if I have to deliver warm bodies for him to fulfill his taste for violence.
I. Don’t. Care.
“Thanks for being an alibi,” Turner says quietly. “You didn’t have to. You could’ve told him the entire truth, and I wouldn’t have been mad at you.”
Furrowing my brow, I set the mug down. “What did you want me to do? Turn you in? They’d put you in prison for the rest of your life, Turner.”
He throws his hands up at me. “Have you ever considered that maybe that’s where I belong? I mean, there’s only so much someone could do, and I bet if Tommy knew?—”
I swallow hard and cut him off. “I don’t think he would change his mind.”
“I’m a danger to society.” He takes a step toward me. “There’s no coming back from that.”
“There is,” I argue with him. “I know the police officer showing up was overwhelming, but it doesn’t change what’s happened between us. I don’t feel any different about you.”
“Fuck, Em,” he grabs me, pulling me into his chest, and wrapping me up in a hug. He presses his lips to the top of my head. “Why are you such an angel, huh?”
“I’m really not,” I laugh, tipping my head back to peer up at him.
He smiles, leaning down and taking my mouth with his. He kisses me, long and deep, taking his sweet time to canvas my mouth. I grip the back of his neck as he tightens his hands on my waist.
When we finally come up for air, he presses one last kiss to my forehead and then releases me. “You should probably get going. The last thing you want to do is raise some kind of suspicion now that your truck is out, and someone knows.”
I hesitate. “Yeah, well, I just need to get a phone, and then I can come back. I had service when I was pulling up in the driveway.”
“Yeah, you can get service in some places, but it’s really spotty,” Turner says carefully, eyeing me. “Hopefully, somewhere is open today.”
“I’m sure there’s somewhere that is,” I reassure him, patting his chest. “I’ll figure something out.”
He rests his hand over mine, intertwining his fingers with mine, before pulling it away from my chest. “You’re a good person, Emersyn.”
I nod slowly, my heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, well, I think that’s actually debatable at this point, but thanks.” I laugh it off and give Gunner a pat on the head as I make my way to the front door.
He chuckles, dropping my hand to open the front door for me. I step out, the sunshine glistening on the snow that hasn’t been cleared. It’s surreal seeing my truck parked about a hundred feet from the house, just inside of where the yard ends and the thick trees begin. My mind flashes back to the beginning—to when I first got stuck in the driveway.
I glance back at Turner, who closes the door behind us. Part of me wonders how such a small event, turning into the wrong drive, made such a massive alteration in my course of life. Did it do the same for him? Will it be enough to pull him from the pits of his mind’s brokenness?
“You okay?” Turner furrows his brow.
“Yeah,” I nod quickly, scrambling down the steps. “I was just thinking that I’ll miss you while I’m gone.” I know it’s not the truth, but I will miss him when I’m gone, and I’ll be worried about his wellbeing, too—even if it’s just a trip to town to find a freaking phone and get the situation under control.
I walk out to my truck, and he follows, our boots crunching in the snow. He opens the driver’s side door for me, and I kick the snow off my shoes on the running boards. I climb inside and grab for the keys, setting in the cupholder. I swipe them up and attempt to start it. It roars to life immediately, like it hasn’t been buried in a blizzard for nearly two weeks. I open my mouth to say something, but Turner beats me to it.
“Go ahead and back down the drive. It shouldn’t give you any trouble. I’ll meet you down there.”
“You can just ride with me?” I offer. “Or I can just say goodbye from here.”
He leans in and kisses me, lingering in it for a few beats before pulling away. “Nah, I’ll meet you down there, angel.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to read his cryptic expression. “Also?—”
“See you in a minute,” he cuts me off with a kiss on my nose. He steps away and shuts the door, and then waits for me to back up.
“Fine then.” Huffing, I put the truck in reverse, and back down the driveway, navigating the cleared road. The tires never slip in four-wheel drive, and I suddenly wish he wouldn’t have made it so easy to get out. Maybe then I could’ve stayed longer. However, I know he did it this morning, when he was initially planning on me to take Gunner and leave his body to rot.
And that thought leaves me nervous.
Surely, he won’t do anything while I’m gone, right? I put the truck in park as I clear the gate, waiting for him. He said he’d meet me down here. I ignore the anxiety thrumming through my body as the minutes tick by. My hands begin to sweat, and as soon as I’m about to drive back up the driveway, I spot him, emerging through the trees.
He has a solemn expression, and before I realize exactly what he’s carrying, it’s too late. He drops my bags at the front of my truck just as he slams the gate shut…
And locks it.
I fling open the truck door and race to the massive iron gate. “What are you doing, Turner?”
“You need to go,” he says flatly. “For good.”
“What?” My voice breaks, a sob choking it off. “What do you mean? I thought you said?—”
“Em,” he cuts me off, his voice sharp. “You have to go. You and I both know what happened here. You can call the cops, you can tell them the whole truth, and I won’t hate you if they come get me. You can keep it to yourself and live with the burden of the truth, but it won’t change my decision. I’m not well enough yet to go on the journey with you.”
Tears stream down my cheeks. “You said you’d be good. I can… I can just…” I can’t even get the words out as I reach through the steel pickets, desperate to reach him. “Turner, please don’t make me do this alone.”
“You’re not alone. I’m giving you permission to do what’s best for you, Em. Go take care of yourself.”
“No,” I break into a shout, fury mixing with the heartbreak. “No, I don’t want to leave you alone. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He smiles. “I’ve made it almost forty-one years, and I’m still here. I just can’t handle what comes next. We can’t live in solitude while I try to figure out how to exist peacefully. There’s too much going on. You need people who can be there for you, and that’s not me.”
“You selfish fucking coward,” I scream at him, tears rolling down my cheeks as he stands just outside of my grip.
He shakes his head. “No, I’m not a coward. That’s how I lived my life before you showed up here. Being a coward would be making you stay and try to navigate the shitstorm and me. You have to trust me, Em. This is what’s best.”
“No,” I plead, gripping the cold steel and shaking it. “Just open the gate. Please just open the gate, Turner.”
“I love you, Emersyn,” he says, his voice painfully soft. “I have to do what I have to do, and you have to do the same for yourself.” Turner takes a step forward, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “Don’t come back here.”
“You’ll get help though?” I choke out through the tears as his confession shakes me to my very core, followed by panic. “Right?”
“Yeah.” He brings my hand to his lips, kissing my cold skin softly. “I promise. Good luck, Em. Do what’s best for you. I’ll never be mad either way.” With that he drops my hand and steps away again. “Drive safe.” He backs up, drifting closer to the tree line.
“I love you,” I call out to him.
He closes his eyes and turns around, giving me his back instead of returning it. My heart rips in two as he disappears into the woods. I know I could come back. I know I could climb the fucking fence and sprint after him…
But what good would it do?
All I can hope is that somehow, Turner figures himself out. I force myself to take a deep breath, and scoop up my bags, throwing them in the backseat of my truck. I slam the door shut, and climb into the driver’s seat, staring at the locked gate.
How will he find me if he wants to? Or does he not want to?
I purse my lips, sniffling as I flip open my console. I grab one of the blank Christmas cards from the box of cards I never sent. I pull it out, and scribble a note for him, leaving my phone number at the bottom. It’s probably a waste, since I can assume he doesn’t check his mail. However, I still shove it in the envelope, write his name on the front, and shove it in the black, rusted box just outside the gate.
I then climb back inside my truck, and I leave him.
Merry fucking Christmas, Turner.