Page 57 of River Wild

“I know what you said. What I meant was, why didn’t you just call someone?”

“Like who?”

He shoves his hand through his thick hair. “The cops.” His words are quieter. “If someone thought there was an intruder in a house, that something bad was happening … a person would normally call the cops. Not go in at their own risk. With a fucking gardening fork as their only weapon.”

I can’t tell him all the reasons I didn’t call the police.

I lift my shoulders on the lie. “I guess … I didn’t think.”

His thick brows draw together. “No other reason?”

“What other reason would there be?”

He steps back out of the light of my doorway and into the dark of the night. “No reason.”

He pushes his hands into his jeans pockets and walks toward the steps.

“Carrie.” He stops me as I’m closing the door.

That’s the first time he’s ever said my name.

And it feels momentous for a reason I can’t put my finger on.

I don’t answer, as my voice seems to have been stolen, but I know he knows I’m listening.

“Thanks … for coming.”

When no one else would.

He doesn’t say those words out loud, but I somehow know that’s what he means.

“You’re welcome,” I say to the darkness as he disappears into it.