Over the next year or two, I slowly got to know Shane. It had only been a few years since my mom had died, and I’dfelt such empathy for his loss. We bonded. The summer we got together, I spent a lot of time at the house. At the time, Dad lived on a lake outside of Portland, and we’d sit on the dock side-by-side, letting our legs swing from the wooden platform and soaking in the summer. His sadness was deep and raw and drew me in.
That’s when it got intense.
Shane wrote me love letters and called me five times a day and constantly texted. He brought me flowers and wanted every minute of my time. In hindsight, it was obvious he was love-bombing me, but I couldn’t see it. He moved out of Dad’s house and into my apartment, even though my father strongly disapproved.
Then I got pregnant, and Shane immediately proposed. My father was furious, but at that point, I loved pissing him off. It was the only time he actually paid attention to me. Ever since an awful incident when I was a freshman in high school, I knew that man didn’t have my back. And clearly he didn’t have Shane’s, either.
Shane and I married quickly, and Dad reluctantly accepted him into our family.
I lost the baby.
Things turned fast. Shane became overly critical and withdrawn, claiming he was upset about the baby, pushing me to get pregnant again. He was emotionally abusive and manipulative. Shane was constantly chasing that feeling of belonging in our family. He wanted tobemy father’s son.
It took my father’s death to shake me out of it.
It’s fucking cold out here. I shudder and sigh loudly, then freeze. Shit. I should remember what I’m doing, standing in the middle of the woods behind a tree, spying on a man who is probably a criminal, just like my family. Someone I want absolutely no part of. How much noise have I been making?What if he’s looking out that window and sees me lurking in the woods?
I need to focus, both right now and overall. Find Shane. Finalize divorce. Get Mom’s ring back. Move to Seattle. Get my master’s degree.
Start my life over.
To get to that goal, I’m gonna have to wade through some nasty shit.
Like standing in the middle of the woods. Alone. With a snowstorm about to start, as illustrated by the large, lazy snowflakes drifting down through the trees.
This is exactly what Lola means when she talks about my poor decision-making. Which is why I didn’t tell my best friend my new plan to find Shane. Her opinion was that he didn’t want to be found, and I should just wait for him to reemerge.
Not go chasing after him by hiring another criminal to help.
I pull out my phone to text her, because maybe Ishould’vetold Lola about coming here, but naturally there is zero service. In the middle of the woods.
Which definitely means I need to get back to Portland before I get stuck out here. I shake my head and slip my phone back into my pocket. It’s already dark, stupid February in stupid Maine. I want to go home and hang out with Honey Bunny.
The idea of snuggling on my bed with my rabbit and a book page art project spurs me to action. I adjust my beanie. I’ll message Hawk when I get back to the apartment. I’ll apologize profusely and ask to talk over the phone instead.
But as I start to turn, a branch cracks behind me.
Then I feel a prick in my neck, and everything goes dark.
Chapter 5
Single for Another Reason
WES
Callie crumples, and I catch her, feeling instantly bad for sedating her. I might do some questionable shit, but I would never intentionally hurt a woman or a girl.
But my curiosity is too strong to just let her go without getting some answers. I want to have an innocent conversation with her.
Andshe’sstalkingme. It’s not like I went out to kidnap her. I’m innocent here, for fuck’s sake. This is not! A kidnapping!
I lift Callie into my arms, careful not to let her head loll back and hurt her neck. She’s as light as a feather, although her coat is puffy enough that it feels like carrying a marshmallow.
The snow is falling heavier now, and the air is cold and crisp in the way that predicts a big storm, but my face is protected by my balaclava.
I only have a few minutes to get her situated inside before she comes to, so I half-jog to my back door. She’s mostlikely going to freak out when she wakes up, and I want to be sufficiently prepared.
I push the unlocked door open and turn to sidestep into the cabin, careful of Callie’s head and the doorframe. The heat feels good, and her cheeks pinken while I prop her on the wooden kitchen chair I have set in front of the fire. But fuck, she’s going to be too hot if I zip-tie her while she’s still in her winter gear, and then she’ll want to take it off, and I’ll have to cut the ties, and she might not be ready for that. Imight not be ready for that.
