“I thought of that,” Keller replies. “And made a discreet inquiry through the local patrol routes.” He hesitates.A cold, heavy weight lands in my gut.
“What?” I snap. Keller exhales slowly.
“Willard was looking for them.”
Blood rushes through my ears and my vision blurs. “What do you mean looking for them?” My voice is low, dangerous.
“He might just be taunting you. It could be one of his power games,” Keller says.My grip on the phone tightens so hard it hurts.
“Where’s your agent?” I demand.
“Still tracking. Right now, she’s sweeping the fairground, keeping a low profile. But you need to stay calm. We don’t have confirmation that anything’s happened.”
I don’t reply.
There’s a beat of silence. “Listen to me, son, you don’t move a muscle unless you have to. If Willard wants a reaction, don’t give it to him.”
“Too late. He’s already got it,” I mutter, hanging up before he can say more. My hands are fists at my sides.
Willard wants Cole? Wants Noah?
Over my dead body.
My legs are already halfway to the door.
COLE
Noah is ready to go home. His balloon bumps gently against my arm as we weave past the last row of game stalls.
He’s dragging his feet now, sticky from lemonade spills, hair wind-tousled from the Ferris wheel.
We head toward the exit hand in hand, the fair’s music and noise fading to a low hum behind us.
I’m thinking about early dinner and bath time, because after a day like this, Noah will tire more easily. I’m actively trying not to replay the moment earlier, the dark figure watching us.
I’m cursing myself for forgetting my phone at home. Still, we’re not far from the car. And there’s no way the sheriff would do anything here, right? He’d probably just want to give “a friendly warning” about Xaden again.
We reach the gravel lot. I unlock the Volvo, buckle Noah into his booster, and climb in. Turn the key.
Nothing. Not even the sad cough of a dying battery. Just a dull click.
My pulse spikes. I try again. Same sound.
“Why aren’t we going home?” Noah mumbles, half-asleep already.
“Car’s just being stubborn,” I say lightly, though my palms are slick on the steering wheel. “Try not to fall asleep in the car, buddy, it’s too late for a nap.”
I pop the hood, get out. The gravel crunches loud under my shoes, every step too sharp in the quiet lot.
It’s eerily quiet. Where is everybody?Right now, I’d even welcome Earl’s silly face.
Then I hear footsteps.
“What’s wrong?” Sheriff Willard asks from behind me, voice all fake brightness. “Car trouble?”
I turn, and there he is, smiling like we just ran into each other at the grocery store. Teeth catching the last sunlight, too white, too polished.
My heart is pounding.
