Having any kind of hand in nudging Noelle in that direction, one that eventually leads her to experience this kind of hurt, makes my teeth clench.
She’s not just someone we’re helping out of a bad situation, she’s a person all three of us deeply care about.
Taking over six years to come back here is a mistake I’ll never get over regretting.
We should’ve done it sooner, should’ve stopped letting excuses like life and our jobs get in the way of reconnecting with her.
It may have never stopped her from getting pregnant, but perhaps it would’ve saved her all the heartache that came afterward.
Every time she looks at me, it feels like a door reopening to something I didn’t even realize I’d been missing.
But I can’t afford to think like that.
Not now, at least.
Callum clears his throat, breaking the quiet. “So, what’s the plan?”
I grip the steering wheel tighter, the leather creaking under my gloves. “If he still works there, we’ll go in and watch him from a distance. Get a feeling for his routine. I’m not saying we full-on stalk him, but I want to know how the hell he hangs out with and where he goes.”
He leans back against his seat. “Sounds like a plan.”
We pass the diner on the corner, its neon sign still blinking lazily, pulsing in time with the beat streaming faintly into the car from the radio.
The street narrows as we turn down Main.
The hardware store looms a few yards away, old brick with a faded red-and-white sign that readsMilton’s Hardware and Supply.
I scan the cars as we pull into the parking lot.
My eyes land on the beat-up sedan parked crooked near the snowbank. Rust creeps up the wheel wells like rot.
The back bumper’s held on with duct tape.
There’s no doubt in my mind when I see it, it’s the same one from the night he came to our hotel room.
I exhale through my nose, forcing my hands to relax on the wheel as I park a few spots away from it. “We’re not here to start anything, Callum. Just to talk.”
He gives me a look that tells me exactly what he thinks of that idea.
“Sure,” he says, dryly. “You telling yourself that or me?”
I don’t bother giving him a response to that.
We both know how this will go down if Jared decides to open his mouth and say something stupid.
We head inside, the blast of heat from the overhead vents ruffling our clothes.
There’s a radio humming softly behind the counter, some old country song playing low.
Two older guys in work jackets are sorting through bolts near the front, but otherwise the place is empty.
I nod for Callum to follow me and head down the first aisle.
We spot him when we reach the back of the store.
He’s at the far end of the aisle two down from us, leaning on a cart full of disorganized boxes.
His hair’s greasy and unkempt, sticking out from under a beanie that’s seen better days. Wrapped around him is a muted color apron that’s stained beyond repair.
