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“I guess.” Ari goes quiet. Then her chin juts out, and she looks at me with fire in her eyes. “But if Brett hurts you, I’m going to have words with him.”
“Ah, Ari.” My chest expands, warmth filling it. “I’m so glad you moved back here.”
Ari leans over and hugs me. “Me too.”
Chapter 7
ARI
Ever since the police called, I can’t stop thinking about it.
Instead of memories lingering at the edges of consciousness, they’ve moved straight to the front, unavoidable and terrifying.
The day had been going well. It was the first day since I returned to work that I wasn’t aching and tired by lunch. My students were well behaved—a miracle when snow is in the forecast and they’re all praying for school to be closed tomorrow. And a project was due in my senior lit class and almost everyone turned it in on time.
So I was feeling pretty good, until the dismissal bell rang and I finally pulled my phone out of my desk to check it.
At first, it seemed innocuous enough. There was a text from Thea asking if I wanted to have a wine-and-movie night this weekend. Two messages from Cash, one suggesting Italian for dinner, the other a review of a new movie we both want to watch. And then a voicemail from a number I didn’t recognize.
It was a detective from the police department, saying he said he had an update on my case.
I should have waited to call him back, at least until I was back at Cash’s house. Then I wouldn’t have driven home on the verge of a panic attack, which I knowwasn’t safe.
Ever since I got home, I’ve been trying to distract myself—a hot shower, reorganizing my clothes, tidying the kitchen—but nothing worked. Mid-shower, I had a flashback to running through the woods, certain I was about to be caught. When I reached into the kitchen cabinet to get cleaning spray, I was searching for the trunk release all over again.
I finally gave up and I’m back on the couch, this time with two blankets wrapped tightly around me. My phone is on my lap, the time taunting me, and I just want Cash to come home.
Except it’s notmy home. It’s Cash’s home.
And he’s my friend, notmy boyfriend.
I shouldn’t be relying on him this much—I know it’s not a good idea—but I’m sick and scared and I don’t feel like an independent woman right now; I feel like a terrified child.
When the door opens and Cash calls out, “Ari, I’m home,” I almost sob from the relief of it. Another thing Cash has done to make me feel safe—calling out to me as soon as he comes inside so I don’t panic, thinking he’s an intruder.
I try to reply, but the words get caught in my throat.
Footsteps draw closer while I fight for composure—swallowing hard, blinking away the tears burning behind my eyes, trying to come up with something to say that won’t sound weak or crazy.
This isn’t who I am. Scared and jumping at shadows, even though logically, I knowI’m safe here. Unable to force back the memories assaulting me. Not even trusting myself to speak.
“Ari?” Cash walks into the living room and his smile immediately fades. And I hate that I did that to him. “What’s wrong?”
“I—” My throat clicks, drier than the Sahara. “I'm sorry…”
“Ah, hun.” He drops his briefcase on the floor and rushes over. “What’s wrong?”
When he sits next to me, he looks at me like I’m the most important thing in the world.
“The police,” I start, and my voice catches. “They—”
“What about the police? Ari?” Worry bleeds through his words.
The memories swamp me all over again, and I can’t keep the tears from escaping. I catch a glimpse of Cash’s stricken face before he pulls me to him, his arms wrapping around me. I sob into his neck, the last few hours of turmoil pouring out of me.
“Ari, it’s okay.” He keeps repeating it, rubbing my back in small circles, his breath whispering across my hair. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”
When my sobs subside into stuttering gasps and sniffles, he finally pulls a few inches away from me. His forehead is creased with worry as he inspects me, and he brushes away some damp strands of hair stuck to my face. “Can you tell me what happened?”
