Page 12 of Hearts at War

He wasn’t a man of many words, but I hoped he’d elaborate. “How come?”

“You know what kind of a conman Jerry is.” He glanced at me as he headed toward his truck. “He probably pissed off the wrong guy and got what was coming. You wanna follow me out there?” He glanced at the key in hand, checking the number. “It’ll be a twisty few turns out there in the dark.”

I nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

I got in my car and exhaled a long breath. It should’ve been a sigh of relief. I had a place to stay still, and it didn’t include having to sleep in my car. But it also could’ve been a groan of annoyance. Being expected to cover the costs of a break-in when I wasn’t there was a slap in the face.

Driving down Main Street passed in a blur. While part of me was intrigued to scope it out and see if anything else had changed around here, I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment.

It wasn’t like this was a visit. I wouldn’t be leaving the confines of this small town tomorrow. I was here to stay. I was returning to have a break from the fear and anxiety in Chicago. Burton would be my stepping stone to figuring out how to really start my future.

I could see all the changes tomorrow, if any had happened. But with the permanence of being back, I’d need to get a better grasp for everyone raising their brows at my presence.

Ashely was a bitch about it at the convenience mart.

Even Gavin was surprised to see me here on Main Street.

“They’ll just have to get over the shock,” I muttered aloud. Until then, I’d need to work on perfecting my blank face and ignore them all.

The drive out of downtown didn’t take long. Fifteen minutes later, I bumped and bounced along the rough route toward the Grand River cabins.

“Holy freaking pothole.”

Gritting my teeth, I clung to the steering wheel with both hands. If all four tires remained on, I’d be surprised. Darkness shrouded the landscape, and only a sliver of the moon shone down on what would be my next lodging.

Eric braked and parked, but it wasn’t until I’d shoved my gear stick into park that I loosened up my grip on the steering wheel.

“A little bumpy on the road,” Eric commented as I got out and joined him on the path toward a short cabin. It seemed to have a fresh coat of paint, but even I knew that new layers of paint could be a coverup for the rot beneath. I’d have to wait until daylight to make a further appraisal. So far, though, nothing seemed to fall off with the breeze. The stink of manure hit me hard though, and I mentally whined at having to acclimate to that again.

“A little?” I joked back.

He shrugged, not looking at me as he fitted the key in the lock.

Then again.

And again.

“Huh.” He rubbed the back of his head.

I closed my eyes, not even wanting to think of another obstacle. With the way things were going, I’d never get in a bed. A cot. On a blanket. I didn’t care what. I was coiled up so tight with stress I needed to sleep however I could.

“Looks like he gave me the wrong key.” Fiddling with the keychain fob, he grunted. “Oh.” He held it up to me. “I think this is number nine. Not six. See.” His dirty fingernail tapped on the plastic that had numeral scrawled on it in Sharpie. “I bet he forgot to put a line under it to show it’s a nine, not a six.”

I shrugged. “Where’s cabin nine?”

He pointed. “Further back. I’ll show you.”

And he did. Over what felt like another mile of craters left on the dirt road, I slowed my car to a stop at another cabin. More trees surrounded us back here, giving it a slightly eerie vibe. I wasn’t afraid, like Roarke taunted on Main Street, but I was tense. On alert. Hell, a frigging bat could swoop out from those branches and hit me. Or a rabid coon, or—

“You coming?” Eric asked. He didn’t say it harshly, like I was dragging my feet. More curious.

“Yeah. Right behind you.” I hustled to catch up with him, dismissing the haunted forest feelings that struck me. I wouldn’t fare well if I was flinching at every little sound or counting on something nefarious to pop out at me.

As we approached another cabin, this one lacking as new of a coat of tan paint, I realized the odor of manure wasn’t as pungent back here. Perhaps this was further from the busier part of the ranch.

Which is fine by me. It’d take me a few days to adjust to the drastic differences between the city and being here. Sounds and smells would be in total contrast.

No traffic. No horns. No people. It was just...still and quiet out here, like we were walking on the furthest reaches of the earth, far removed from civilization and commerce.