Now, as we round the corner, Amy tries to keep going with what she was talking about—the importance of pop music—but something inside me pricks, and I shift uncomfortably, getting the sense that there’s something out of place right now.
“Evan?” Amy asks, sobering up and reaching over to put a hand on my arm. “Are you okay? What is it?”
I don’t even have time to tell her because we’re coming upon the drive onto the land that leads down to the cabin, and I see several police cruisers gathered up outside.
Throwing the truck into park, I hop out and hurry over to them.
“Officers,” I call, glancing between them and the rope they’re extending over the entrance to my driveway. “What seems to be the problem?”
“Hey, Thatcher,” one of them says, turning to me, and I recognize her as an older sister of a guy in my class. When she looks at me, I see behind her eyes a sort of pity, and something sour starts to gather in my gut. “Sorry about this, man. We got an order from the state.”
“From the state?” I ask, right as Amy walks up beside me. Distantly, I can hear Blue barking from the truck, wanting to be near me and see the people on the land, check them out, but I can barely think about my dog right now.
“Amy Callaghan?” A man in a suit emerges from the group of guys, walking straight for us, his eyes on Amy.
And my stomach bottoms out about what’s happening right now.
“Nathan?” Amy asks, her voice sounding slightly hollow. “What are you doing here?”
“Don said you might be hanging around,” the man—Nathan—says, giving Amy a massive grin. “He wanted me to thank you for all your hard work on this one. We got that claim out to a guy at the state level, so it’s all set in stone now.”
“Hello?” I ask, stepping up to the guy. “Are you talking about stealing my land out from under me? Right in front of my fucking face?”
Nathan throws his hands up, and the cop comes over, putting her hand out to me. “Come on, Evan. I know this sucks. Let’s get you down to the lodge. Don’t want tensions rising here.”
My jaw tightens, and I swing around to look at Amy, finally digesting what Nathan said when he first saw her.
He wanted me to thank you for all your hard work on this one.
All this time, I thought she was on the same page as me, that we were working together to try and undo this thing. But in reality, she was just getting close enough to distract me. To keep me from seeing clearly while they worked behind the scenes to take my land away.
How often have I been down in town, working on projects, helping people out? Just for this to happen behind my back? It was all part of her plan.
“Evan,” she whispers, shaking her head, tears in her eyes. “Listen, I know how this looks, but?—”
“This is why you’ve avoided the topic,” I say, and the look on her face tells me she knows exactly which topic I’m talking about. The one about our future, what we are to each other outside of being exclusive. “Because this was always a game to you.”
“No,” she insists, shaking her head and stepping toward me. Blue is barking louder now, and I see the whir of her in the front seat, desperately trying to get my attention. Like she could stop this from happening. “No, Evan, it’s not—just let me—we can figure this out.”
“I should have known better,” I spit, turning and walking away from her without another word. Because if I stay, if I keep listening to what she has to say, I’m going to let myself give in.
It’s just like what happened last time.
If this was their plan, they really pulled it off. Sending her up here, having her act like the damsel in distress. Making me fall in love with her. If they’re willing to do all that—to go to such lengths—maybe they deserve the fucking place.
“Evan!” Amy calls, and I know she’s trying to follow after me, but I hear a different, deeper voice. Nathan, the man from her office, asking her something sharply.
I don’t look back. I need to get to the lodge and see if I can get a room for the night. Figure out what I can do to stop this from happening. Lick my wounds in private.
Figure out how to put back all these walls that Amy Callaghan has so expertly torn down.
“Justwait,” she cries, and I feel her hand fly around my wrist. I shrug her off of me and keep going, continuing my march toward the truck, a single-minded effort that allows me to block everything else out.
It’s a helpful tool during combat that I pull out now to push away the way my heart is breaking. The betrayal. The cracking despair in her voice.
Then she runs in front of me, more determined than I imagined she would be to keep up the ruse.
“Evan,” she pants, standing in front of the driver’s seat, her hair disheveled. “Please—just wait. Can we talk about this?”
