Protect Me(80)

“It’s easy to defend the honor of those you love the most, Nate. And you do love her, right?”

“With everything I have,” I confess to my mom.

She smiles that all-knowing, motherly smile. “Nate, do you really believe the words she left you in that note?”

“What?” I ask, confused.

“Do you really believe that Lia doesn’t love you in return?”

“I don’t know, Mom. It’s hard to believe that everything she said and did, everything I felt with her, was all a lie.”

“Then don’t believe it. She’s running scared, Nate. Something has scared her enough to make her run again. Just like before.” She gives me a knowing head nod as all the pieces start to fall into place.

The strange feeling she had about someone being in her apartment. The creepy underwear that showed up on her doorstep. The guy in the alley.

I saw the truth in her eyes last night. She loves me. I know she does.

I push myself back from the table so fast, the chair falls backwards and lands with a thud on the floor. “She loves me,” I say to myself.

Mom stands up and smiles. “She does.”

“Where is she, Mom? Where would she go?” I ask, beg.

“I don’t know. If she’s not here and she’s not at her apartment, where else could she be? There’s no bus in town so either she had a ride to St. Charles or she’s still here around town somewhere.”

“She doesn’t have a car. It’s still at the apartment,” I add as I slip my feet into my worn running shoes.

And then it hits me. The only place she would feel safe. The one place I told her she could go to if she was ever afraid. I know where my girl is.

“I know where she’s at,” I holler at my mom as I fly out the door and head towards my car. I dig my keys out of my pocket with one hand and grab my cell phone in the other.

“Be careful,” my mom hollers from the doorway as I slide into the car. The air is hot and stagnant inside, from the heat, but I don’t give a shit. I barely open the window as I peel out of my driveway for the second time today.

I grab my phone and hit speed dial number one.

“Yeah?” my older brother says in way of greeting.

“I know where she is and she’s in trouble,” I say as quickly as I can as I fly down Main Street, heading towards the edge of town.

“Lia? Where is she?” Jake asks urgently in the phone. Jake knows me well enough to know to stay away when I don’t want to be bothered. That’s why he hasn’t broken down my door or blown up my phone the way others in the family have tried today.

“She’s at the creek. I know it,” I tell him. “There was some guy looking for her this morning when I was leaving her apartment. It felt off when I spoke to him, but he said he knew her from a few months back. I think it was Garrett. I think he’s here and he’s been looking for her all day,” I seethe at my brother.

“Shit. I’m on my way. Get to Lia and I’ll get on the horn about Garrett,” Jake says just before he hangs up.

I reach the edge of town and floor it. The speedometer reaches very close to triple digits, but it feels like I’m crawling. I can’t get there quick enough. The ten-minute drive to my parents’ property goes much faster when you’re going dangerously fast.

I start to slow down as I approach the edge of the property. I don’t want to pull up the lane and scare her, or whoever is out there watching her; waiting for her. I park the car in the ditch along the road and jump out. I grab my cell phone, flip it to vibrate, and run around the hood of the car. I take off jogging up the lane that I know by heart. The moonlight is bright and high in the sky, which gives me just enough light to see by. The quarter of a mile evaporates quickly and I’m approaching the clearing a few moments later.

I slowly scan the land, watching for any sign of movement. When I don’t see anything, I quietly walk towards the shack. I’m on alert as I continue to scan the area. The birds are loud and the crickets are singing. Yet the silence is deafening, and I see no sign of Lia.

As I approach the shack, I press my ear against the door. It’s unlocked, but closed. I slowly push open the old door and step inside. It takes me a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, I’m staring down the barrel of a .22 caliber handgun.

“Lia?” I ask through shaky breath.

“Nate?” she whispers, the whites of her eyes wide with fear.

“It’s me, baby,” I say as I step forward and grab the gun from her trembling hands. She lets go easily and comes willingly into my embrace. I pull her tightly against me and inhale the sweetness of her shampoo. The sobs that rake through her body tear me up inside. Listening to her cry is the worst thing in the world. Well, that and being without her like earlier.