"No, we don't."She unlocks her car and tosses her purse inside.
"About last night."
"There's nothing to talk about."She finally looks at me, and her face is a mask.Closed off.Defensive."It was a mistake.I was upset.It won't happen again."
A mistake.
The word pisses me off, but I keep my expression neutral.She's deflecting.Pushing me away because she's scared of what happened between us.I've seen this move before, from soldiers who got too close to the edge and didn't know how to step back.
"You weren't upset," I say."You were scared.There's a difference."
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
"Timothy."She says my name like a warning."I appreciate what you did yesterday.The parking lot thing.Checking on me last night.But I don't need a babysitter."
"I'm not trying to babysit you."
"Then what are you trying to do?"
"Keep you safe."
She laughs, but there's no humor in it."I've been keeping myself safe for a long time.I don't need help."
"Everyone needs help sometimes."
"Not from you."She gets in the car and starts the engine."I have to go to work."
She backs out of the parking space and drives away without looking back.
I stand there watching her taillights disappear, frustration coiling in my gut.
She's running.From me, from whatever happened last night, from the fear I saw in her eyes when she thought that guy in the Ram was someone else.
But running only works for so long.Eventually, whatever you're running from catches up.
And when it does, I'm going to be there.
***
ISPEND THE MORNINGrunning errands.Hardware store for supplies for the job that starts next week.Grocery store because my fridge is empty.Normal shit that feels anything but normal because my brain won't stop circling back to Carla.Jonah came back with the info on the Ram.It was rented by a guy named Gordon Pickett from North Carolina. This town wasn’t exactly a tourist destination. I wondered what he was doing here.Jonah was going to take a deeper dive on him just in case.
I'm loading groceries into my truck when I see another truck. This one had Tennessee plates.It’s parked at the edge of the lot near the diner.The driver is watching the diner entrance.Just sitting there.Waiting.
Every instinct I have starts screaming.
I close the tailgate of my truck.The guy isn't trying to hide.He's too obvious for that.Which means either he's an amateur or he doesn't care if he's seen.
My money's on the second option.
After about ten minutes, he starts the engine and pulls out of the lot.Heading toward the highway.
I get his plate number before he disappears.
Could be nothing.
Or it could be connected to the North Carolina driver.
