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He slaps a couple of blank papers down on the desk in front of me, “Fill these out with your statement. Include every detail. I need to go talk to your boyfriend.”
He stands up, not even giving me a chance to react. What a pig. He’s probably going to listen to Nathan’s side of the story, completely disregarding me and everything I just told him. He seems like a typical misogynist, so I guess I shouldn’t be entirely surprised if he hates women.
I glance around his desk, looking for a pen because he forgot to give me one, of course. I look back to where the two men are standing, Nathan looks pissed. I don’t blame him. This Sheriff Donahue is hard to like. Not wanting to interrupt them, and not wanting a reason for the Sheriff’s sights to be set back on me, I move to the other side of his desk to look for a pen.
I nudge a couple of papers around, seeing if there is one hiding under the mess. There’s a small drawer under his computer monitor, but when I reach for it I freeze, my blood running cold in an instant. My stomach sinks.
Sitting right beside his monitor is a framed photo. The Sheriff is posing next to a large, freshly killed deer, with two other men posing on its other side. I stare at it, hoping my eyes are playing tricks on me and I’m not really seeing what I’m seeing. It doesn’t matter how long I look or how many times I blink, it’s definitely a younger version of Sheriff Donahue and the two men from yesterday, Tony and Bub. They’re probably five years younger in the picture but it’s definitely them, it’s unmistakable. Their slimy grins are burned into my memory, haunting me every time I close my eyes.
I can’t breathe.
My thoughts go spiraling. Who is the Sheriff to them? Could he be old enough to be their father? A brother? They don’t look alike at all, but maybe.
I told him that I knew their names… I just sat here and told him that Nathan tried killing them. Now he is out there talking to him. Oh my God. What have I done? We need to leave. Now.
I rush around his desk and out of his office, Nathan sees me coming right away and gives me a questioning look. Of course, he can tell something is wrong, he reads me like a book, and I am incredibly thankful for that right now. The Sheriff notices Nathan looking toward me, pivoting to look at me also.
“You’re done with your statement already?” He squints at me, his mustache twitching while he scrutinizes me.
“Yep, all done.” I channel every ounce of courage I have to remain calm, to pretend like I’m not panicking. “Can we go now?” I look directly into Nathan’s eyes, his eyebrows pinching together, knowing something is wrong with me but not knowing what.
“I still need your boyfriend here to write his statement, and I need both of you to write down your information.” He positions himself between us and the front lobby, clearly trying to keep us from leaving.
I don’t refute the boyfriend comment, I play into it instead, grabbing Nathan’s hand and squeezing it, “Honey, can we come back later, I’m really not feeling well.”
I stare into Nathan’s eyes, praying he is reading into my act. Hoping he understands that something is wrong and I need him to get us out of here. He looks deeply at me and I can sense the wheels turning in his head. He reaches up and runs his knuckles across my cheek, cupping my jaw in his palm, “Yeah baby, let’s go.”
I can’t help but melt under his touch. Even though he’s just playing along, it grounds me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders tightly, facing the Sheriff head-on, making me relax slightly now that I’m safely tucked into the side of his body.
“I’ll come back tomorrow, she’s had a rough couple days. I don’t want her to make herself sick,” the lie slips effortlessly through his teeth.
“You can’t go anywhere until I get your information.” The Sheriff straightens his shoulders, again trying to stand tall against Nathan, but failing. I am gripping Nathan’s side just above his hip, probably breaking skin with my nails even through his shirt.
“We’re leaving, we’ll come back tomorrow. You’ve got my word, Sheriff,” Nathan finishes without even a trace of sincerity, not caring if the Sheriff knows he’s lying or not. If only I had an ounce of his confidence.
Not waiting for a response, he sidesteps him and walks towards the exit, shuffling me along. The receptionist stares at me from her desk, looking confused about what’s going on but aware that there’s some sort of tension in the room.
Nathan holds onto me, shielding me under his arm until we reach his truck. He opens my door for me and shuts it once I’m safely inside, rounding the front quickly to get in on his side.
Without saying anything, he takes off. We make it down the street and take the left to get us out of town and back to the mountain roads before he finally speaks up.
“You want to tell me what the hell that was about, honey?” He uses the pet name I gave him back to me, his voice full of curiosity.
“He knows them, Nathan. Sheriff Donahue knows Tony and Bub. There was a picture on his desk,” I barely finish speaking before feeling the tears running down my cheeks.
I don’t know if I’m mad or upset or both, but I do know I feel helpless. This situation just became so much worse, and I’ve dragged Nathan even deeper into it. I cover my face with my hands, feeling so defeated.
“That fucking bastard.” Nathan slams his hand against the steering wheel, reacting harsher than I’ve ever seen him before. “He fucking knew. He was asking me where I shot them, and if I was trying to kill them. I thought he wanted to know for law enforcement’s sake, but he was more concerned for their well being.”
I watch him as he rubs his hand across his chin, then through his hair, clearly distressed about this new development. “I’m so sorry, Nathan, I didn’t mean to drag you into this. I’m sorry.” I sob quietly to myself, the guilt ripping a hole in my chest. This is bad, this is all so bad.
He doesn’t deserve this, I’ve done nothing but bring problems into his life. I have to cover my mouth with my hand to stop the cries from escaping my throat. He doesn’t speak right away and it’s killing me. We drive the rest of the way to his cabin in silence, my head is throbbing by the time we pull in his driveway.
I jump out of the truck before he even has it in park and fall to my knees, throwing up the contents of my stomach into the grass. I squeeze my head with both hands, trying to dim the piercing pain that’s stabbing my brain. I don’t know if it’s from the tears, or the stress, or maybe I’ve finally burst an aneurysm and this is the end, but I feel like I’m being punished for something. I’m really starting to take all of this personally, why me?
I feel Nathan’s hands pulling my hair back, making sure it doesn’t fall in my face. It’s too gentle, too nice, I don’t deserve it. I push myself up, ignoring the icepick in my frontal lobe, and go to the front door, pacing back and forth until he unlocks it. I rush past him into the living room, grabbing everything that I brought in, and retrieving my bags from the bedroom within a few seconds.
I can’t believe I’m suddenly on the wrong side of law enforcement, not that this is lawful, but how am I supposed to stand up against a cop? He knows exactly how to make a person disappear. If it’s between me or his family, or however he knows Tony and Bub, I guarantee he’ll pick them. I need to leave, I need to get as far away from Nathan as possible to keep him safe. I’ll die if it means he’s safe, that I didn’t get him killed. I turn towards the door and run smack into Nathan’s chest.
