by Voss, Deja
“Fine,” I say. “I’ll do it.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Molly:
I make the water as hot as I physically can bear, steaming up the entire bathroom before I even set foot inside the shower stall. My mother is right. I’m pretty damn disgusting. I should probably burn my sheets once I’m done here, too.
It feels so good in here, I don’t think I ever want to get out. I guess when you’re used to showering at a campground, the small luxuries of life kind of escape you. The last time I showered in a place that wasn’t public was at the cabin when Tucker and I went away for the weekend. God, it’s frustrating that every single thing I do circles back to him.
I wonder if it’ll ever stop. I kind of hope it doesn’t. I’m resigning myself to the fact that maybe, just maybe, I can make peace with what happened and just live with him in my heart forever. It might be a sad life, but at least I’ll have the memories of what I once had. Maybe that’s it for me. Maybe that’s all I deserve.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Molly, I’m coming in,” my mother says.
“Ok.”
“I think you’re going to want to finish up and come downstairs. There’s someone here to see you.”
My heart skips a beat.
“Is it him?” I ask hopefully. Are all my wishes actually going to come true?
“No, baby,” she says softly. “But it is someone who knows him very well. And he wants to talk to you.”
I stand there, water pounding off my skin, my mind racing a million miles a minute. I knew that eventually my article would reach somebody who probably knew Tucker, but I really hadn’t prepared myself for what I was going to say.
“Are they mad at me?” I ask. I know it sounds selfish, but I imagine if I heard about someone important to me who was missing in such a disparaging light, I’d probably be pretty upset.
“Just get yourself decent,” my mom says. “It’s time for you to do the right thing, Molly.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Tucker:
“There’s a side door to the attached garage,” Stone says. “I’ve tried it a few times and it’s usually unlocked. They won’t even know you’re in there.”
“Unless you don’t want to sneak up on them,” Moss says. “It’s not like they’ll be able to do anything. You could ring the doorbell and just shoot ’em in the head when they answer the door. I’ve always wanted to do something like that.”
“I think I’ll go for the sneak attack,” I say. I’m not going to kill these people; I just have to figure out how I’m going to pull this off without getting us all shot. “You know how I like to hunt. Might as well not stray too far from my norm.”
“Good thinking,” Moss says. “It’s exactly like hunting. Only this time the stakes are a lot higher.”
“I’ll be right back,” I tell them, hoping that the next five minutes brings me some sort of revelation about what I need to do to spare these people’s lives. I trudge down over the hill, sneaking across the lawn and to the side door that Stone told me about.
As I pull open the door, I notice a box with an alarm system. I hit the panic button. I’ve seen these before. They don’t make any noise, but I’m hoping that it does its job and the police are on their way. I lock the door behind me. I sneak across the garage and notice the breaker box. I find the kill switch and turn off the power to the house. I stand there in complete darkness for a moment, listening for signs of life in the adjoining rooms.
In a matter of moments, I’m face-to-face with an old man shining a flashlight through the garage.
“What in the hell?” he stammers.
“The police are on the way,” I tell him. “I hit the alarm. How long do you think it’ll take them to get here?”
“No idea,” the man says. “I’ve never had to push the button before.”
“There is a gang of men in the woods who are planning on ambushing your house and murdering you and your wife,” I try to say as calmly as possible.
“And what are you doing here?” he stammers.
“I’m trying to save you,” I say. “My name is Jesse Drakeman. I’m an architect from North Carolina. Don’t ask me why that’s relevant, but I feel like I need to get that out. I’m gonna slide you my gun. Is there somewhere safe we can go and wait until the police get here? I’m sure they’re moving in on us by now.”
“We can go in the basement,” he says. “Let me get Farrah.”
“What’s going on, honey?” a woman’s voice softly speaks from the darkness. “Can’t you find the generator?”
“We need to go in the basement,” he says calmly. I watch him pick up the pistol from the floor.
“Who’s here?” she asks.
“Some architect. Come on, let’s go.”
“You’re the boy from the TV,” the woman says, looking right at me as her husband shines the flashlight in my face. “You’re the mountain boy.”
“Alright, dear,” the man says to her. “We can talk in a little bit. Let’s go downstairs.”
“Can I take a selfie with you?” she asks me.
He ushers us down the basement steps, locking the steel door behind him.
“Why are we going down here?” she asks him.
“There’s a storm coming, Farrah. We just need to go for a little bit while we wait for it to pass. Give this man your cellphone,” he says to her. “He can call the police and let them know we’re safe and we’re in the basement.”
I like this man. The fact that he’s keeping himself so calm in such a fucked-up situation to protect his wife is what true love looks like to me. Sure he’ll have some explaining to do later, but at least she doesn’t have to know that right now they are in serious danger.
It makes me miss Molly.
It makes me think about everything I was hiding from her and why. It wasn’t to protect her, it was to protect myself. It was my own childish need to run away from a life that I was unhappy with and I was using her in the process. No wonder she was so upset. I can’t blame her for the article. And I do owe her an explanation at the very least.
I do owe her a chance to get to know the real me, as my real life, my true life begins flashing before my eyes. Jesse Drakeman, architect, CEO, billionaire. Man who went on a hunting trip and never came back to his responsibilities.
I better call Max, too. He’s probably pissed. I told him I needed a few weeks to go off-grid and get my shit together, but judging by the length of my beard, it’s been long enough to send out some major warning flags.
I hear footsteps on the floor above of. Loud, violent sounding footsteps and the men are yelling for me.
“Tucker! Where you at, man?”
I press my finger to my lips as the couple huddles in the corner of the basement.
“Hello, 911?” I say into the phone. “I need to report a crime in progress.”
Chapter Forty-Six
Molly:
I peek out my bedroom window into the driveway to try and figure out what’s going on. Mom’s being awfully cryptic, and the black Range Rover doesn’t really give away any clues at all. Maybe it’s Josh. He knows my home address, and I wouldn’t put it past him to come hunt down one of his prized cash cows.
I throw on some skinny jeans and a t-shirt and pull my long damp hair up into a ponytail. I cringe as I look at the state of my face. Apparently pillow lines don’t wash out, no matter how long you stand in the shower. I hurry up and put on a little concealer. I might feel like trash, but there’s no sense in looking 100 percent like it.
I slink down the steps and into the kitchen. Sitting around the big oak table is my mother, father, and a man that I don’t recognize. He looks to be about Tucker’s age. He’s extremely handsome, clean-cut, and dressed pretty casually. The only thing about him that screams money is the Bulgari watch on his wrist. I’ve never seen one in real life, but I’m assuming it’s real. I can tell this guy isn’t like the rest of us. There’s something ab
out his smile, his posture, this is a man who always gets what he wants. But what does he want with me?
“Molly,” he says as soon as he spies me standing in the doorway. “It’s really nice to meet you finally.”
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m Max Liston. I’m a close friend of Jesse’s. Well, I’m a close friend of Tucker’s.”
“Do you know where he is?” I ask, my eyes lighting up. “Is he ok?”
He frowns. “I was hoping you’d be able to answer those questions for me. Your parents explained what happened with the article. I’m sorry you got tricked by your agent, and I promise I will do whatever I can to make sure he pays for it. Right now, though, I need your help finding Tucker.”
I walk into the kitchen and take a closer look at this man. Something about him is so familiar but so strange. He looks like a celebrity that I should know.
“He disappeared on me when he saw the article,” I tell him. “I don’t blame him. We took the police to the place where he was camping and it was packed up. Him and the guys he was running with left without a trace.”
“He’s good for that.” Max shrugs. “It’s kind of one of his quirks. He likes to play this ‘off-grid’ game every few years or so. He goes out in the woods and I don’t hear from him for months at a time. He usually checks in at least, though.”
“Why weren’t you looking for him?” I ask. “He was in a terrible accident. He lost all his memory. When I met him, he had nothing but the clothes on his back.”
“Oh, I was looking for him,” Max says calmly. “I thought he was in Montana hunting. The waitress at the diner where he was last seen said he made it there in one piece.”
“And that’s it?”
“Listen, it’s hard for guys like us to get away from the life we live. Jesse’s always been a lone wolf. He’s a big boy. He needed some space and I gave it to him. If I knew what I know now, this would’ve never happened. And I’m going to make sure it never happens again.”
“Well now he’s gone. It’s too late. Him and that pack of criminals are who knows where doing who knows what. I don’t understand why nobody put a missing persons out on him! Surely he would’ve been found by now.”
“I don’t expect you to understand the life we live,” he says, taking a long swig from my mother’s iced tea. “This is excellent by the way. If we were to put a missing persons report out on him, he’d be in serious danger. People would be doing whatever they could to get their hands on him and hold him for ransom. It’s a sick world, Molly. Especially when you have the kind of money that Jesse has.”
I’m having trouble processing what’s going on now. I sit down in the chair next to Max and put my head in my hands.
“This isn’t the first time he’s run off. It’s hard trying to play it off to clients like he’s just traveling or busy when really you don’t have a clue if he’s ever coming back. His parents are a mess. He usually calls them at least once a week, and not hearing from him has them all sorts of worried. You gotta help me find him,” he says. “There’s gotta be something you remember.”
“Who is Mary?” I ask.
He looks at me sideways. “Mary is a woman who’s spent her entire life making Jesse miserable. Pretty girl, probably his first love, but she’s toxic as hell. Do you think he’s with her?”
“No, I’m just making sure he’s not married. It’s been nagging at me since the day I heard his story.”
“I can promise you, he’s not. Like I said, he’s kind of a lone wolf. He’s not into this lifestyle like a normal man would be. Jesse’s always been searching for something genuine. Something real. Someone who didn’t care about his social status or how much money he has. I feel like maybe this whole incident gave him a chance to indulge in that fantasy.”
I know that what Tucker and I had was more than a fantasy. It was very real. Everything I knew about the man, I loved. I was going to spend the rest of my life waiting for him.
“Well, if living on a bus and showering in a public campground is his fantasy, then he found the perfect woman,” I laugh. “So what are we going to do to find him?”
“Did he have any places he liked to hang out in Creede? A bar maybe? I have men on the ground all over the place there, but nobody is coming back with any sightings.”
“There was this cave he really liked,” I say, shrugging.
“A cave? Like a literal hole inside of a rock?” He’s cracking up, and I realize how ridiculous that sounds. “Why am I not surprised?”
“So who are you? Like, honestly? Who are you guys? You keep saying that you live this big extravagant lifestyle but I have no idea who you are.”
“Jesse and I are the CEOs of Drakeman and Liston. We design and sell commercial real estate.” I see my father curiously tapping away on his cellphone in the corner and his face turns bright red.
“Oh shit,” he whispers.
“Dad!”
“It’s ok.” Max smiles. “We get that a lot.”
“Are you gonna help me look for him?” he asks.
“I don’t think he wants to be found by me,” I sigh. “Not after what happened. I’ll happily help you however I can, but I highly doubt he’s going to be happy to see me.”
I don’t care what it takes to find him. I’m dying to see him again, to at least give him an explanation. To show him how much he means to me. To show him that I want to spend the rest of my life with him, whoever he wants to be.
“He’s not a dumb guy,” Max says. “He’ll believe you.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Tucker:
“The police were dispatched about twenty minutes ago, sir,” the woman on the end of the line says. “I will notify them of the current situation.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “There’s about ten of them, and they’re armed. I can hear them inside.”
“Stay on the line, please,” she says. “So I can be sure you’re ok.”
My heart is pounding. I’m sure these guys will find the breaker box before too long. They’re not stupid. Stone’s been scoping the house out for the last few weeks, and he’s even said he’s been inside.
“TUCKER!” I hear frantic screaming coming from the house. “Are you alive?”
“Honey, somebody is upstairs,” the elderly wife says. “Are they looking for you, son?”
“Yes,” I say. “But I’m just going to hide here for a little bit, ok? They’ll go away, I promise.”
“I don’t want them to get stuck in the storm,” she says, seriously concerned. “Tell them to come down here.”
I feel bad keeping this woman in the dark. She’s so worried about the well-being of a bunch of men who are here to murder her and her husband and take over residence in their home for the winter, and it’s all because nobody is telling the truth.
“Farrah,” the man says. “I have to tell you something, but you have to promise to be very quiet. The police are on the way. There is no storm. Those men upstairs are bad guys.”
I cringe as the lights flick on. They found the box.
She reaches for her hip and pulls a pistol out of the holster. “Why didn’t ya say so in the first place? I have no control over the weather, but if somebody’s going to come into my home and try and hurt us, I’ll do whatever I have to. You know better than to lie to me, Harold. Hiding the truth from me won’t keep me safe.”
Everything she says reinforces the millions of ways I’ve fucked up with Molly. If we survive this, the first thing I’m going to do is track her down. Get back to her. Tell her everything I know and promise her I won’t leave her in the dark ever again.
It’s a heartwarming scene, but as I crouch in the stairway, listening to the footsteps pounding through the house, I know we’re not in the clear.
“Where the fuck did they go?” I hear Moss yell. There’s breaking glass, there’s a lot of screaming, and then I see the door handle jiggle. It’s a thick stainless steel door, but the sound of the knob turning makes my bloo
d run cold.
“POLICE!” a voice booms from above, and I don’t know if I’m relieved or sad. I’m relieved that these two people will get to live the rest of their days in peace once they put this massacre behind them, but I’m sad that I know exactly what’s going to happen to my clan, what’s going to happen to the men who dug me out of a ditch and let me live amongst them while I found my personal truths.
My only real truth, the only thing I need to know.
And that’s the woman I left behind.
Gunshots ring through the air and I don’t know who’s shooting who. Tears run down my face, but I realize I’m on the right side of that door.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Molly:
I’m riding shotgun in this big black Range Rover. Max is trying to make small talk with me, but it’s very obvious we have very little in common. It’s ok. I like being around him.
He reminds me of Tucker in so many ways, but in other ways I can tell they’re polar opposites. It feels good to be around someone who knows him better than I do, though. It feels good to be around someone who’s just as determined to bring us back together as I am.
“You ever been in a helicopter?” he asks me.
“When I was a kid, we went on one of those helicopter tours at the beach. I don’t really remember much, but I think I threw up,” I say.
“You know where Tucker’s cave is?” he asks. “Like you’d be able to tell me how to get there?”
“Sure,” I say. “I hiked there a few times before.” Our little secret spot where we made love, our backs pressed up the cold stone, our sounds of lust echoing through the cavern.
“Well we’re not going to hike.”
The thought of being up in the air is making me queasy already. I’m glad I didn’t make it downstairs in time for dinner because I don’t think even the idea of finding Tucker is enough to rally the strength to keep my stomach in check.