I don’t want to live my life scared.
I simply want to live it.
23
CLEMENTINE
Ever since Ireplaced my phone, Carl and I share our locations with each other. Knowing where I am keeps him from having a panic attack every ten minutes, and knowing where he is means I don’t have to wander around town, searching for cop cars.
Luckily, today, he’s at the station.
I head there straight from my chat with Neri, Shrimp strolling through the town by my side. The Folk Haven Police Station is located inside the Town Hall building, an impressive marble construction that acts as the statement piece of Main Street. I jog up the front steps, eager to share my decision. Shrimp’s collar jingles as he bounds behind me.
I know Carl will be happy about at least one of my pieces of news.
There are a few people in the entryway, but I don’t need to ask directions from anyone. My teenage years included more than one trip in the back of a cruiser. I half wonder if Carl decided to join the force to make up for the laws I’d broken.
Still, it’s not like I did anything truly horrible. Trespassing. Graffiti. Some light vandalism and underage intoxication.
But for my law-abiding brother, each misstep I made was a blow.
He didn’t yell though. Didn’t berate me or ask the universe why he was stuck taking care of me.
No, he’d just drive me home, quiet heavy between us, and when we were back at the house that used to be our family home, he’d ask, “Can we talk about it?”
And I’d snarl out a, “No!” Then I’d lock myself in my room and muffle my cries under my covers and swear I’d figure my shit out on my own.
But I never did. Not while I was living here anyway. I needed to get out of this town so I could break my self-destructive habits.
A wooden door with a fogged glass window and the wordsFolk Haven Policesits ajar. I push it the rest of the way open and step into a large room that has multiple desks and a holding cell toward the back.
Carl sits alone at a desk, filling out some paperwork by hand.
I plop into the empty chair next to his station, and he jerks upright, his blink of surprise turning into a smile of welcome. Shrimp sprawls on the tiled floor, as if the walk over here was too much exercise and he needs a nap.
“Clem. Hey. What are you up to?” Carl’s welcoming expression falters. “Why aren’t you with Griffith?”
“I figured since I’m not about to keel over, I could give him a little time off.” I hold my hands up. “No unnecessary risks. Just been wandering around Main Street.”
His shoulders, which had been creeping upward, relax. Then he clears his throat and tries to smile again, though this time, his eyes are sad.
“I know, since you’re healed now, you’re probably thinking about heading out again. But I’m hoping you might stick in Folk Haven for the time being. Because of the hunter and all. I’d rather you have the town at your back if that guy Luke finds you.”
“I was getting tired of Nashville.” I lean back in the seat next to his desk, crossing my ankles. “Folk Haven has a lot going for it. More than safety. I thought I’d give it another try.”
Carl’s eyebrows rise so high that they threaten to blend with his hairline, and I bite back a giggle at his stunned expression.
“You’re staying here?”
“Yep.”
I can tell Carl is doing everything he can to keep his cool. To not show exactly how wildly excited he is at the idea of me remaining close by.
“That’s … that’s great.” He shuffles some papers on his desk, trying to look unconcerned. But I can see the smile he’s attempting to subdue. “If that’s what you want. You staying here would be fine. Just fine.”
“I’m also going to make an honest man of your best friend.”
Figure I should lay all my news on him at once.
