“You’re okay,” he says. “Just ease into it.”
Ease into it. Fear ices through all other emotion, those alarms louder than they’ve ever been.
Because he’s not surprised. Or worried. Which means— “Did you do this?” I ask, my voice wavering.
“You’ll come to forgive me one day,” he says. “Maybe.” Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws his cell and taps the screen. “Yeah. It’s me. We’re going to be wheels up in twenty minutes. Got it? Great.”
“W-w-what are y-y-you doing?” I stammer, slurring my words so badly they’re barely audible.
“Putting my family back together.”
He reaches into his other pocket and withdraws a syringe. “Sorry about this. You shouldn’t feel it now, but it’s going to leave you with one nasty headache when you finally wake up.”
“Please don’t.”
“Too late.” Cold surges through my veins, spreading from the side of my neck. And as it does, my vision goes completely dark, leaving me with only one final thought.
What will this do to Dylan?
Chapter 7
Dylan
Throwing hay bales is a poor way to blow off steam when your mind is a firestorm.
Even though it’s barely eight in the morning, sweat is already slicking my skin. I toss another bale onto the stack, then head back to the trailer to repeat the process. Hopefully enough times to wear myself out so much that I won’t be able to think straight.
Maybe then I can get her out of my head so I can sleep longer than the thirty minutes I got last night. Never in my life have I wished meds worked for me like I do now. I’ve tried them all though.
Everything from prescriptions to herbal blends, and nothing has eased the monsters in my mind. The creatures that stand ready to devour me the second I let my guard down.
The scent of alfalfa surrounds me as I toss another bale into place, rip the hay hooks free, and turn back toward the trailer once again. But as I do, I catch sight of Gibson Lawson in his sheriff’s uniform, walking toward me with Bradyn and Tucker at his side.
All three men have strained expressions, their shoulders squared as though they’re prepping for a fight. Fantastic. I toss the hay hooks as far from me as I can, not wanting them anywhere nearby because there are times I don’t trust my own mind.
And it doesn’t look like whatever news they have to deliver is going to be easy.
“What is it?” I demand as soon as they’re close enough.
“Hey, Dylan,” Gibson starts. “I need to ask you a few questions.”
“What about?”
“Just answer them so we can move on,” Tucker snaps.
Gibson tosses him an apologetic glance. We’ve known Gibson his entire life. He and Lani were best friends growing up, so he spent a lot of time here with us. Which only makes his tense expression even more worrisome.
“What’s this about?” I demand.
“Where were you last night?” he asks.
“Home.”
“Can anyone verify that?”
“This is ridiculous,” Tucker snaps.
“I agree, but I have to ask. Their fight was public, Tucker. Dozens of people saw it.”
