Lennox.
I know it’s the smart thing to do, but it worries me that he’s out there with no back up right now.
“When do we leave?” I ask.
“In five minutes,” Woodcroft says. “Pack your shit, and let’s head out.”
Shit.Shit.That doesn’t give me time to go talk to Willow. As I pack up what little I have, dressing in the extra vest and gear that the team brought with them, I vow to text her while we’re driving out.
Good intentions are all well and good, but they don’t mean anything when shit hits the fan.
And that’s exactly what happens no more than ten minutes later.
Chapter 27
Willow
All day, I’ve been dealing with the residents of Bluebell Falls in all their lively glory.
And now, I’m twenty minutes from closing. Which, in theory, sounds great, except I haven’t heard from Oakley all day. I’m not normally one to jump to conclusions, but when I see a couple of SUVs full of guys built like tanks pull up in front of the sheriff’s office, I assume shit is hitting the fan. It has to be the task force Oakley used to be on.
And that makes me nervous. And scared. And a little panicky because I haven’t heard from Arlo at all since my phone call this morning.
It’s fine. I’m sure it’s fine. There’s no reason to freak out when nothing has happened.
As I’m mentally reassuring myself, I see a man walk around one of the SUVs and jump in the driver seat, followed by someone jumping in the second one as well. They drive off before I can make sense of what I’m seeing.
Quickly looking around, I see the place is empty, so I lock the front door, not worrying about actual closing duties yet. My brain can only focus on one thing right now, and that’s trying to not completely lose my shit as my heart cracks in my chest from the unknown.
I plop down in one of the chairs facing the sheriff’s office and stare. I don’t know what I’m waiting for or expecting to happen, but I’m just hoping for a glimpse of Oakley. Just one little peek that lets me know he’s safe.
It’s too much to hope for—I know that deep down. He’s not the type to sit back and let other people fight his battles, but fuck if I wasn’t hoping some higher chain of command would step in and force him to stay put. He isn’t a Marshal anymore, after all, so it’s not completely unreasonable.
My leg bounces as my eyes stay firm on the door. I’m not even aware that I bring my fingers up to my lips and start chewing on my nails—a habit I only do when I’m especially stressed out.
When I realize I’ve gnawed off all my nails, I tuck my hands underneath my bouncing legs.
I’m an anxious mess.
Pulling out my phone, I pull up my messages with Oakley and send him a message, crossing my fingers that he sends me something, letting me know he’s okay.
Me:
Closed up shop. It was busy today.
Lame. So fucking lame.
Me:
Keep me updated if you can. I just want to makesure you’re okay.
Is my heart seeping through into my words? Because it sure as hell feels like it.
Knowing there’s a chance that Tennison is out there right this second, just waiting for him, is causing me to re-evaluate the way I pushed Oakley to go after him. Logically, it makes sense. But right now? Living in this limbo of having no idea what’s happening, if he’s okay or not, I wish I never told him to go. There’s a real chance I will lose him before I ever get the chance to tell him how I feel.
And how do I feel?
I think I always knew I was capable of loving him. It’s probably why I chose to stay away from him for so long. Deep down in my mind, I knew he had some sort of power over me, even if it was just sexual in the beginning.
