Tears blur my vision.
My heart and my brain tug me in opposite directions.
Is love enough to beat the horrible odds of a relationship in the cruel spotlight? Or are we doomed from the start, bound to be torn apart by the media and our troubled past?
My phone chimes on the nightstand. I’m almost grateful for the distraction until I see the notification. An image attachment from an unknown number? Must be a spam text.
Irritated, I put my phone on silent mode and tap on the notification to block the number. When a picture fills the screen, I almost hurl over the sheets.
I recognize the parking lot by the little honky-tonk in Pine Bluff. And thereweare. Rust in cuffs, being led to the sheriff’s car, me kissing him.
The phone vibrates in my hand.
Unknown
There’s more.
Swallowing bile, I glance at Rust. He’s oblivious, watching TV and taking big bites from a double cheeseburger. I angle myself so he can’t see my phone and hastily type a response.
Me
Who is this?
Unknown
Someone who knows what you did this summer.
My palms sweat. Shit, that could mean a lot. I’ve packed a lifetime’s worth of adventure and felonies into this one week.
Okay, this person knows about the bar fight and the arrest. But do they know about the dead drifter? The arson at the county fair? The diner robbery?
No, no, no! Don’t panic!
I gotta stay calm. The last thing I want to do is give them more ammunition to use against me because I let fear cloud my judgment. First, I have to find out who and what I’m dealing with.
And above all, I can’t let them know that I’m terrified. The stage prepared me for faking confidence like a true professional.
Me
Unless you’re gonna be more specific, I’m blocking this number. Byeeeee.
The answer comes fast aslightning.
Unknown
Bet the police would love a tip from an anonymous caller pointing them to the robber who held up that retro diner.
A chill creeps up my spine. Fuck, what now? I have to pretend I still got the upper hand.
Me
Without proof you ain’t got shit.
A series of pictures pops up on my screen. Rust by his truck in the parking lot ofPeggy’s Diner, pulling on the balaclava. Rust entering the diner with his shotgun.
Unknown
Got some great shots of you bent over that stool, too. You’d be surprised how close you can get with the right camera lens, even from as far away as the old motel across the lot.
