“They should have some of it, at least,” I replied. “Maybe not everything, but enough to get started, or at least get some heads turning.”
“Okay, we can swing by there once we get back to the city.”
The rest of our meal went by in a blissfully relaxed haze. We joked, talked, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. It felt so natural. Sogood.
Lunch in a diner on a road trip wasn’t necessarily what I’d call a date, but that was exactly what it felt like. The realization was startling, and as we continued talking, I wondered if Nateand Iwereofficially dating. I wasn’t sure that running for our lives and researching drug kingpins was a great way to start a relationship, but maybe this was fate. The world rarely worked the way it did in fairytales.
We still had a few things to talk about, but our issues had mostly faded into the background. I wanted to be with him. A deeper and more instinctual part of me shouted that Ineededto be with him.
And that made me wonder if I was doing the right thing in asking him to take us on this new route. If this road did lead to the bridge and the bait shop—and according to the map on my phone, it did—should I really let Nate stumble onto that with no warning? Deep down, I thought it would be good for his ability to cope with what happened. Yet, a voice in my head told me he might refuse and turn the car around if he knew where we were going. He was one of the bravest men I knew, but this might be too painful for him to meet head-on willingly.
Did that make me a terrible person? I didn’t know, and I was a little terrified to find out.
The waitress brought the bill, and before I could talk myself out of it, I reached across the table, my fingers and palm open. Nate slipped his hand into mine without hesitation. A shudder of excitement ran through me, and I could hear the echo of my inner wolf howling with joy at the feel of his warm skin on mine.
“Are you ready to go?” Nate asked.
“Sure. I’ll drive the next bit.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I napped for an hour,” I said, snatching the keys from his hand. “I’m driving.”
“Fine,” he said, grinning and rolling his eyes.
I pulled out of the parking lot, and instead of turning right to go back to the highway, I turned left, my stomach doing little flips as the nerves caught up to me. This was it. The last chanceto turn back. Instead, I hit the gas, going in the direction that would lead to answers.
“Where are you going?” Nate asked with a laugh. “IknewI should drive. You’re already getting us lost.”
“Very funny.” I swatted his thigh. “I’d rather see the countryside than a bunch of concrete and pavement on the highway.” I hoped he didn’t pick up on my anxiety. “Maybe we’ll find something interesting? Uh, have you ever been this way before?”
Nate didn’t answer right away. He frowned and looked in the passenger-side mirror, gazing at the quickly shrinking diner behind us.
“I’m not sure, honestly,” he finally said. “The highway leading up to the restaurant was kind of familiar. Even the restaurant itself jogged my memory a bit, but I have no clue why.”
I glanced over at him and swallowed hard. Not like this. I had to tell him what I’d found. This was ridiculous.
“Nate, I need to tell you something. This is?—”
“Holyshit!” Nate shouted, making me jerk in surprise. “Cameron, stop the car.”
Before I could make a conscious decision, instinct took over, and I slammed my foot on the brake. The car behind us swerved around, passing us in the oncoming lane and blaring their horn as our tires screeched. I nearly slammed my face into the steering wheel as the car rocked violently to a stop.
“Nate, what—” I gasped.
He was already out of the car.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I pulled the car onto the shoulder and got out.
It only took a moment for me to see exactly what had gotten Nate’s attention. My stomach sank. I’d waited too long. We were at our destination. Dammit.
I watched him walk slowly toward the building at the bottom of the hill. The sides of the road were lined with trees. At the base, a small convenience store sat shaded by massive white pines. On the roof, a hand-painted sign read:“Zane’s Bait and Tackle.”
This was where Nate had wandered as a child. My heart ached as I watched him hesitate before walking toward the store. How long had it been since he’d been here? Years, probably. Had he never come back after that night?
The picture from the news article sprang into my mind. How did I broach the subject now? Nate was reliving that awful night at this very moment. A wave of shame washed across me as I realized I’d made a bad choice.
“Nate? Are you okay?” I asked, jogging after him to catch up.
