After Sailor offered a heavy sigh, he rested his head on my leg. At least I had him with me. Maybe tomorrow would be better after all.
“Aimee!” I shouted, my voice hoarse from calling her name for hours.
Crack.
What the hell was that? I stopped trudging through the woods, taking several deep breaths as I wiped sweat from my face. I’d heard a fucking sound. I knew it.
A muffled cry shot through the dense air and I took off running, jumping over limbs and scrubby trees, the rush of adrenaline keeping me going. Nothing was going to stop me from finding her. Nothing.
“Aimee!”
I swung the flashlight from one side to the other, refusing to stop. I had to find her. Movement.
There. Right the fuck there.
Where the hell were the cops? Where?
A moan. A thud.
With my rage increasing, I rushed through the trees, shoving limbs out of my way, darting under others. My flashlight caught sight of something. What the hell was that? Almost out of breath, I slowed my pace, swinging the flashlight. Then… Then…
“No!
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Gasping, I jerked up, trying to focus. A bright white beam of light blinded me. What the fuck was going on?
Sailor was barking, trying to jump over me to get to the driver’s window.
“It’s okay.” Shielding my eyes, I wrenched my body backward as much as the seat would allow to try to see who was holding the flashlight. Fuck me. I didn’t have any concept of a weapon. That needed to change.
“Son. Can you open the window?” The man’s voice was gruff, commanding.
And I was instantly on edge.
However, there was authority to the tone, so I complied, slowly rolling down the window. Sailor went wild. I’d never seen him so upset.
“Buddy. It’s okay. Calm down.”
“Get your mangy dog under control.” Now the dude who’d interrupted my nightmare was on my shit list. No one called my beautiful boy mangy. No one.
“Sailor. It’s fine. Breathe, buddy. Can you lower your light?” My tone wasn’t any nicer and I didn’t care. I’d learned to be on edge around everyone.
At least the jerk did as I asked, keeping it to the side and allowing me to see his uniform. Great. My sleeping quarters had been discovered by a cop.
“What are you doing out here, son?”
There was nothing worse than an older man calling me ‘son.’ Or boy. Either one yanked at my anger. “Just got into town for a job. All the hotels are booked.” He swung the flashlight all through the cab of the truck. Let me guess. He thought I was some drug dealer.
“Can I see some identification?”
Thank fucking God my driver’s license was still good. “Sure.” Sailor continued to growl while I pulled out my wallet and license, handing it to him. “Is there a problem, Officer?”
“Chief Taylor.”
Fucking fantastic. One of the assholes with attitude. I knew their type far too well. “Is there a problem, Chief Taylor?”
“We’ve had some suspicious fires lately, son. I can’t be too careful.”
