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Cocksure (The Cochrans of Cocker County)

Page 26

by Walker, Shiloh


  I wasn’t completely cut off from the world. I had watched some TV.

  Some.

  It had been a sucker punch to see Luke’s face came across the screen, then an even bigger one as the national news station’s chyron flashed:.

  Star of the Sword movie franchise speaks out about childhood sexual assault.

  I hadn’t been able to turn the channel, as much as I wished I could.

  I recognized the backdrop behind him and had seen his mother and Devin flanking him as he spoke to the reporters. I’d worked with him long enough to know when a press conference was planned and when something was more of an impromptu event, like what had taken place outside his mother’s rehab facility. After he was done talking, there were several clips of reporters trying to catch up with Maureen Wine—she’d also been at the rehab facility and I could only imagine how all of that turned out.

  It had happened the day I left, catching a flight first to New York City, then picking up the car Kelly had arranged for me and driving to Canada. I’d been unaware of the news at the time, because, thanks to Kelly’s warning about the fake engagement scandal hitting social media, I’d decided to go completely offline.

  After four days of hiding from reporters knocking on the door, I’d decided I’d take Kelly up on her offer and fled Canada for her cabin in the mountains, making the long drive to Colorado in two days.

  For the first few days at the cabin, I’d done nothing sleep and cry and sit outside in the sun, reading one of Kelly’s numerous books.

  It wasn’t until the third day that I’d bothered trying to watch any TV and that was when I saw the news article about Luke, playing on the entertainment channel the TV had been set to when I turned it on.

  Mesmerized, I’d searched for more information, but hadn’t found anything. I’d almost given in and called Kelly, asked her about him, then. But I hadn’t. I also didn’t drive into town so I could get a signal and research, either.

  He’d told his family—and the world—and I was glad.

  But it didn’t change anything.

  He’d made his position clear and I’d made my decision.

  I needed a clean break and time to figure out my other options and I couldn’t do any of that if I was obsessing over him. He’d told his family. That was good. He needed them if he ever wanted to heal. That other people knew...well, he’d never had anything to be ashamed of, although I was stunned he’d done it.

  But it didn’t concern me. None of it did.

  He’d made that much clear.

  After seeing him circle through the news cycle twice in two days, I’d decided I was done watching TV, aside from Kelly’s excellent Bluray library. I didn’t need to know what was going on in the world right now anyway.

  Kelly had insisted I take her satellite phone, which she only kept on hand because she retreated out here once a month, and for her the sat phone was a necessity. My cell worked fine when I was in the city, but once I hit the mountain roads, it was touch and go. As long as I had her sat phone, she had a way of contacting me.

  I’m worried about you, sweets. You can hide out there from now until doomsday, but only if you agree to take the phone...and answer when I call.

  I’d agreed. And while I knew she sincerely meant it when she offered to let me stay here indefinitely—or until the Lord returned on a shining white horse—sooner or later, I’d have to accept the inevitable and return to the land of the living.

  And the land of the incessantly nosy.

  It was a thought that made me cringe.

  The last time I’d checked my email had been four days ago when I drove into Estes Park for a grocery store run—I’d charged my cell phone on the drive and it had started binging like mad a couple miles outside of the little town, alerting to numerous texts and missed calls. I had deleted all the texts unread and cleared the notifications and my call log with single-minded focus.

  The only thing I’d given even a little attention to had been my email and just the thought of that task was enough to exhaust me. There were over five thousand emails waiting for me in my inbox—some of them with headers so downright cruel, I’d flinched just seeing them. Others had clearly been from reporters seeking a story. I’d been surprised, though, to see that some of the emails interspersed had been what looked to be job offers from other known Hollywood names.

  At the moment, I couldn’t fathom the idea of going back to work as a PA for somebody in that industry, though.

  I didn’t know if I’d have many choices and I’d have to make a decision soon. I had a fair savings set aside—and once my house in LA sold, I could add to the savings—but I couldn’t float without a job indefinitely.

  I gave up trying to read the book on my lap and left it on the small table on the back patio. I’d go on a hike, then soak in the hot tub for a while. After that, I’d contemplate the next step in my life. Or, I don’t know...maybe I’d read and eat some more ice cream.

  One option sucked infinitely less than the other, although a huge part of me wished Kelly’s library had more than romances. The last thing I needed right now was to read about women who fell in love with the guy of their dreams and actually made it work.

  All that did was make me remember how spectacularly I had failed at that very thing.

  Halfway to the bedroom, I stopped and reevaluated.

  I needed a new plan—no, new reading material.

  Screw the romance. I needed something else entirely.

  Satisfied with the decision, for once, I resumed my walk but instead of digging up hiking gear, I dove for the make-up kit and my flat-iron.

  Sadly, the past few weeks had changed too much about my life, shattering the relative anonymity I’d enjoyed, despite the fact that I’d worked for one of the most well-known men in all the world.

  If I wanted to go anywhere without being recognized, I now had to employ tactics of subterfuge and misdirection.

  Yet one more thing I could hold against him.

  Too bad I hadn’t gotten to the point to where I could be angry yet.

  I really, really wished I could be angry, too.

  “YOU LOOK so familiar,” the girl behind the counter said to me as she popped her gum. Her hair, dyed sooty black, was twisted into a stylishly messy topknot and Goth makeup didn’t do much to hide the fact that she didn’t even look old enough to be smoking—not cigarettes or marijuana, and I knew that faint, but unmistakable fragrance.

  It was legal here in Colorado, although only recently, and here in Fort Collins, one of the bigger towns I tended to shop in, there were dispensaries on what seemed like every other block.

  While the scent might cling to her clothes, one thing was obvious—the girl wasn’t stoned.

  I’d be happier if she was, because the way she watched me was far too intense for my peace of my mind. Clearly, I hadn’t done enough to alter my appearance. I had added heavy highlights to my normally dark-brown hair earlier in the week. On top of that, I’d straightened it earlier today, taming the thick, spiraling curls. I’d also spent forever working on makeup and using it to subtly change my appearance, and there were the green contacts, hoping that would farther throw people off if anybody looked at me too closely.

  And all of it was for nothing, because this college kid kept staring at me like she wasn’t at all fooled by any of the work I’d done.

  “Are you from around here?” she asked, slowly scanning each of the seven books I’d selected.

  Shit. If I’d known there’d be a quiz, I would have only gotten one—or gone into Denver and hit the bigger bookstore there. “Denver,” I said, pasting a smile on my face.

  “You drove up here from Denver for books?”

  “On my way to Estes Park,” I said blithely. “Meeting a friend for dinner. I’ve been in here before and decided to do some browsing. I’m pressed for time, too, so...” I gave the books a quick look.

  “Oh, of course.” She nodded and moved faster. A little faster. “Paying by credit ca
rd?”

  She had a hopeful look in her eyes and I knew damn well if I said yes, she’d ask to see ID. Shit. Good thing I’d started carrying more cash around. “No. I’ve got cash.” I looked over at the register, waiting for the total to pop up.

  “Do you want to sign up for the newsletter?” She grabbed a clipboard and shoved it at me. “If you do, I can give you a ten percent discount.”

  “No. What’s the total?” I had a near panicky sensation in my belly now and started wondering if maybe I should have looked at the phone I’d heard chiming from its hiding place in the console on the drive in. All those little beeps and alerts, an advance warning system of an internet meltdown. I should have looked.

  Realizing I wasn’t going to help her out, she gave me the total and I counted out three twenties, telling her to keep the change as I swept the books into the reusable tote I’d brought in with me.

  I was almost to the door when she called out, “Sabrina?”

  I hesitated a split second. A couple came through the door and I covered quickly, stepping to the side to let them come in.

  The girl from the counter said my name again, but I didn’t react at all this time.

  Damn it.

  Next time, I was definitely driving to Denver.

  Parking in Fort Collins could be a chore, especially once school started back up and all the college kids flocked back to the small town. This time of day, the lunch crowd had the little shopping area around the bookstore packed, but I’d managed to find a halfway decent spot and it only took five minutes to get back to my car.

  I’d had half a mind to swing by the brewery and but paranoia had effectively killed my appetite. I felt like everybody was watching me.

  Nobody had recognized me since I’d come to Colorado, but the few days I’d spent back home in Toronto, being hounded by reporters who’d tracked me from the states...

  Is it true you lied about the engagement? Were you misleading his family the whole time and Luke stayed quiet so he wouldn’t upset his mother after she nearly died?

  Why did you and Luke mislead the entire country? Was it your idea? There are rumors that you’re very possessive of him, even to the point of obsession. Is there any proof to that, Ms. Maxwell?

  I climbed into the car and dumped the books into the empty seat next to me. Then, as the frustration and misery teamed inside me, I screamed, slamming my fist into the steering wheel. The horn blasted.

  Several people walking near the car stopped and looked toward me.

  I ignored them, punching the ignition button—stupid buttons. I wanted a damn key, so I could wrench it, then throw the damn car into reverse before flooring it.

  But there was a button.

  And I couldn’t throw it into reverse. The damn car was too well made. Kelly had arranged for the rental under her name, telling me it would be more discreet that way.

  And she’d gotten a top-of-the-line rental, too. The Audi didn’t allow for slamming the gear shift around.

  The only other option—flooring it—would end up with me getting a ticket. Cops just loved the little town, with its high number of college students, and I could already see me getting pulled me over.

  My current state of anonymity would be over.

  So I sedately reversed and pulled out into the flow of traffic.

  The silence ate at me, so I punched the button on the dashboard and music spilled out. Lady Gaga. A heartbreaking ballad. Not what I needed. I punched the button. People talking. Nope. Another punch of the button. People yelling. Definitely not. Finally, I came across a station where Aerosmith was blaring out.

  Better. Much better.

  By the time I hit the interstate, some of the tension in my shoulders started to melt. It wasn’t a big deal. The girl couldn’t be sure of who I was, right? And I wasn’t going back, so no problem.

  The song came to an end and the sound of the DJs chattering rolled out, but I didn’t change the channel, lost in my own thoughts.

  That is, I was, right up until I heard his name on the radio.

  “...hearing his name in the news a lot these days. I mean, first there’s that awful shit about what happened to him when he was a kid...”

  “Yeah, man. Really awful,” the other DJ said, her voice husky and soft.

  “But this other thing, well, it’s crazy. How do you think she’s going to handle it, half the people in the known world looking for her? I mean, it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to found, right? You’re a woman. Would you want the world searching for you if you’d gone off radar?”

  “Okay, Brad...if Luke Cochran is looking for me? Please. Let the world find me. Tell him where I am,” she said, laughing.

  “Come on, Lise...stay with the program. I mean, you’re on Twitter, right? It all started with his sister, London...”

  I hit the button, turning off the radio. Then, cutting across two lanes of traffic and flipping off the guy in the blue pickup who honked at me, I took the exit. Heart hammering in my throat, I pulled into the big gas station, taking a spot as far away from other cars and trucks as I could get.

  My face was hot as I grabbed my cell phone from the console. The battery was on fifty percent, thanks to being plugged in during my drive. There were a few more calls and messages that had come since I’d deleted them earlier. A call from Bella and Joanne, plus a text from Devin. Some calls that didn’t matter, and some texts.

  Nothing from Luke.

  I went to Twitter. As it loaded, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  I’d turned off the app notifications the day Luke fired me. I’d almost deleted my account and now I was kind of wishing I’d gone through with that impulse as I scrolled through what looked like thousands of tweets directed at me, all with the hashtag #WheresSabrina.

  Dreading what I’d find, I clicked on it.

  “Aw, fuck, London.”

  Ten minutes later, I threw the phone down and propped my head on my fist, staring at the parking lot.

  I was going to have to start rethinking those options. Maybe moving to Nepal should go to the top of my list. Or some quiet little fishing village in northern Alaska. The moon. Were they looking to colonize the moon, or was it Mars?

  I ALMOST CALLED KELLY on the drive back to the cabin. I actually lost count of how many times I started to make the call. Once, I even dialed, but the call dropped—connectivity in this area sucked—which was why Kelly had insisted on me taking her sat phone. I’d left that at the cabin, though.

  Still, I was taking it as a sign. It would be better to call her once I was out of the vehicle anyway. Preferably with a drink in hand. A strong one.

  I made a detour through Lyons and hit a local distillery, picking up two bottles of whiskey. I’d been planning on visiting the tasting room almost since I got here, but vetoed the idea, just buying the whiskey with the rest of my cash. Nobody gave me any looks that hinted at recognition, but with #WheresSabrina trending, I wasn’t taking any chances.

  Once I was back on the road, I started brooding about the whole bullshit thing.

  Complete bullshit.

  Irritation with London—I wasn’t mad at her. She hadn’t meant to start some modern-day scavenger hunt with me being the one and only item on the list. I realized that.

  She’d just gotten tired of people badgering her. I’d looked at some of the questions she’d been answering.

  No...I don’t know what’s going on with Luke and Sabrina. Look, my brother’s crazy about her, but they have to work this out themselves.

  No, I haven’t talked to her. I don’t know where she is. Right now, I don’t think anybody does.

  Guys, I can’t tell you anything. This is between the two of them...

  People had latched on to that tweet about how she didn’t know where I was.

  Luke’s Twitter feed was silent, which wasn’t a surprise. I doubted he even knew his password.

  But he’d damn well know about this bullshit. Kelly would have told him.

&
nbsp; My privacy was pretty much up in flames now.

  And what the hell had London meant?

  Luke sure as hell wasn’t crazy about me and there wasn’t jack to work out.

  There wasn’t anything between us, except the love I couldn’t manage to kill and the hopes I’d stupidly allowed to bloom for a short time.

  “Stupid,” I muttered, drumming my fingertips on the steering wheel.

  The turn-off for Kelly’s cabin neared and I slowed, while the drumming of my fingers speeded up.

  A hot ball settled in my chest, burning away the apathy and moroseness I’d been living with the past two weeks.

  By the time I took the final stretch to the cabin, I was almost shaking with rage. It had taken me two weeks, but I’d finally hit my mad. Granted, there was nobody around for several miles so the most I could do was scream at the sky when I got out. I’d scare some deer and maybe a bear or two. So what?

  It felt good to be angry instead of hurting.

  I was ready to be angry.

  As a matter of fact, I was so fucking angry when I spied the shiny red truck parked in front of the cabin, I almost pitied whatever idiot had stumbled across the place. Under most circumstances, I’d feel some shred of caution, but caution and sanity had crumbled in the last ten minutes.

  I slid from the car and slammed the door shut with a force that echoed in the emptiness around me.

  “Whoever in the hell is here, you’ve got the wrong place,” I shouted. “Get out now or I’m calling the county sheriff.”

  A twig cracked and I looked up as a shadow appeared around the back edge of the cabin—a tall one.

  “Did you hear me?” I shouted.

  “Yeah.”

  A shiver raced down my spine at the sound of that voice.

  Luke rounded the cabin and fixed his blue gaze on me, mouth unsmiling as he stared at me. “It took me two fucking weeks to catch up to you, Sabrina. Can you maybe give me ten minutes before threatening to call the cops?”

  If I opened my mouth, I’d either yell, cry or beg. I didn’t trust myself to do anything but one of those three options. So, instead, I flipped him off and stormed up to the house. He didn’t quite react in time to stop me before I shut the door and locked him out.

 

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