“Then you need to press harder and be smart about it.”
“Yeah, I’m on it, boss. I think we had a breakthrough. I’ll keep working on that scumbag.”
Something cold slides down Owen’s spine. He has no idea what those two men are talking about, but it doesn’t sound legit.
He jolts at the sound of Sheryl clearing her throat behind him.
“Are you going to stay up here all evening to eavesdrop?”
He turns to face her. “Sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You live here now—you can interrupt. Come on.”
She leads him down the stairs and into the living room. “Sheriff, Nate, this is my nephew Owen.”
The rather overweight sheriff rises to his feet andshakes Owen’s hand, using a bit too much force. “You can call me Mitch. Welcome to Van Buren.” He eyes Owen’s bruise. “We don’t take kindly to troublemakers around here, as I’m sure your aunt has already told you.”
He nods. “That’s clear, sir. Not looking to cause any problems.”
The sheriff smiles, and it seems genuine. “Then we should get along just fine.”
When he returns to his seat, Nate stands to shake Owen’s hand. His skin is cold and oily, like his short, black hair. He’s not a pleasant sight with his mousy face and little dark eyes, but he seems full of confidence. Something about him makes Owen uncomfortable, though it’s not nice of him to judge someone he doesn’t know.
“Nice to meet you, man,” Nate says. “I’d love to show you around sometime.”
“Hmm, yeah, that could be cool.”
“If you’re going out, best go to Rodie’s,” the sheriff says as he reaches for a deck of cards. “It’s a bit of a walk from here, but they have good food.”
“And booze,” Nate adds with a wink.
“Thanks, I think I know where it is. I’ll check it out. Enjoy your evening.”
He puts on a jacket and leaves the house. The street is quiet—probably like any other street around here—but he likes it. He can see the lights from the town center up ahead, and he remembers his aunt pointing out Rodie’syesterday, so he should be able to find it.
He can’t help but think about the conversation he heard earlier. Whoever the man is that the sheriff and Nate are talking about, Owen doesn’t envy him one bit.
Chapter 5
Will
“What’s wrong?” Julie puts down the book she’s been reading.
“Nothing. Had a little accident at work.” Will tries not to grimace as he takes a seat next to Julie’s bed. He doesn’t have any bruises on his face, but what’s beneath his clothes is a different matter. “Martha told me you had trouble sleeping.”
“My back is killing me. They’ll have someone come over tomorrow to help me with some exercises.”
“Maybe we should take a trip around the area or sit in the garden.”
“I think I’ll take a pass on catching pneumonia, thank you very much. What accident did you have?”
The kind I was insane to get myself into.
Parts of that night are still a blur in his head. If it weren’t for the bruises, he would have dismissed it as a bad dream. He remembers drinking too much at Rodie’s, then making his sluggish way back home. Before hecould get inside, Nate showed up, insisting on helping.
He remembers with a degree of clarity the conversation they had on the couch. He wanted Nate to leave, but he was too drunk to throw him out. Then came the touching, which he didn’t want, but he was too distracted by trying to stay awake. Before he knew it, Nate got down on his knees and began to suck him. They had a fight over Joel shortly after, and Will…
The rest is even more of a blur, but he remembers enough to feel ill and disgusted by what he allowed to happen. And yes, hedidallow it—no point pretending otherwise.
