10.Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Hank

I wake in a cold sweat, angelic laughter echoing in my head. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in the broken armchair—I hadn’t intended to sit in it in the first place—and it feels like the seat is sucking me in, making it impossible to get up. My dream is already slipping from my consciousness, but my heart pounds like I’m still running.

Chasing something I can never catch.

I almost caught her this time, but then she faded into the darkness, laughing at me. I’ve been having this dream for four years, but this time it felt…real.

I glance at my watch and groan. It’s only a quarter after two, which means I only slept for about an hour. I already know I won’t be able to fall asleep after dreaming about Shelby, so I might as well go back to work.

My novel is right where I left it, otherwise known as the same page I’ve been stuck on all week. I’d really hoped Bonnie would have found a good way for me to move things along, but then I went and ended things way too early. I wouldn’t be surprised if I have an angry publicist to deal with when I show up on the set later today. Or even an angry Bonnie.

I told her I could handle everything the relationship entailed, but I never anticipated she would focus so much on Captain Stacey.

John Stacey was the character I never meant to create. He was simply a background authority figure, a way to keep Gabrielle from going too far outside the bounds of the law. But with each book, he always seemed to have something more to say, and then the victim in the third book ended up being his sister. I tried to change it multiple times, but the story refused to cooperate if I deviated from that outcome.

And then Bonnie went and told me about how people thought Stacey and Gabrielle should end up together, and I haven’t been able to think about anything else since.

Okay, it’s been less than six hours since she mentioned it, but still. The idea is in my head now, and I’m not sure it’s going to go away. She was so certain…

I scroll up a few pages to remind myself of the scene—I’ve been stuck here for days, so it’s not like I’ve forgotten—and then I pull my keyboard closer, considering what this scene would look like if Stacey hadn’t come to the hospital just to check on Gabrielle’s health after her almost-suffocation. As I have it now, he came as her boss and nothing more, but maybe… My books so far have been limited to Gabrielle’s perspective, but I wonder what Stacey would be thinking right now.

I start typing.

After his years on the force, John Stacey had always considered himself a hardened man. He had seen too much violence to believe there was still good in the world beyond basic human kindness, and not everyone possessed even that much. What was the point of letting himself feel when he knew it would only lead to heartache?

But as he stood outside Frost’s room, telling himself that he was only there for her protection, something inside him ached with a feeling he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

“I know you’re lurking out there, Captain.” Frost’s voice was quiet, strained. Understandable, given what she had endured less than an hour ago. It tugged Stacey to the door, and he couldn’t find the will to ignore it.

Someone had tried to strangle her at her own desk, but Frost still managed a smile as soon as she saw him in the doorway. She looked awful and beautiful all at the same time.

Stacey shifted his weight. Beautiful . He shouldn’t be thinking that. She was one of his detectives—his best detective—and that was only one reason why he couldn’t be looking at her the way he was right now. There were so many others, reasons he couldn’t find the will to name.

Frost chuckled, wincing as soon as she did. “Do I really look that bad?”

Stacey hadn’t had time to go through the security footage from the precinct yet, but he already knew it had been a brutal fight. He could see it in every cut and contusion. Frost had been caught unawares, but she would have gone down fighting even without the phone cord snapping and ultimately saving her life. She had always been a fighter, and yet she still saw good in the world.

“How do you do it?” he asked, his voice coming out just as ragged as hers.

She didn’t seem to understand. “Do what? Lose so badly?”

“You’re alive. That’s a win in my book.”

“Could you…” She winced, shutting her eyes. “Could you come inside? I don’t think I can talk loud for long.”

Stacey couldn’t bring himself to move at first. Keeping his distance had always been the best strategy, with anyone he met. It was the very reason he had fought so hard to become captain. The authority of his position put an invisible barrier between him and anyone he encountered, and that barrier was the only thing that made it possible for him to remain alone.

But this was Frost. And he’d almost lost her.

Doing a quick sweep of the hallway beyond the room, Stacey stiffly stepped inside and closed the door behind him, cutting off the sounds of the relatively quiet hospital. It felt safer, somehow, though he wasn’t sure if the safety was for him or her. Each of his footfalls was heavy as he slowly made his way to the bed, and he could feel Frost’s eyes on him as he approached.

He lowered himself into the chair that had only recently been occupied by Frost’s artist friend, the loud one who sometimes did witness sketches for the precinct. The only reason Stacey tolerated her was because she made Frost smile, which was problematic in itself. He shouldn’t care whether Frost smiled as long as she did her job, and yet…

He sighed. All of this had been so much easier when he could pretend he was at the hospital as police protection, but now that it was just the two of them alone, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He feared if he did, something in him might break.

The strongest stones are the hardest to break. It was the mantra he had been telling himself for years, and he wasn’t ready to let it go. If he didn’t let himself feel, he couldn’t get hurt.

“We’re going to find the man who did this to you,” he said, keeping his eyes on the worn linoleum beneath his feet. He felt something crack inside him at the same time his voice broke as he forced himself to keep talking. Keep pretending this was a normal case. That he wasn’t falling apart. “Hansen is going over the footage, and O’Hare and Bowyer are sweeping for any witnesses. It won’t be long before—”

“John.” Frost’s hand found his, her battered fingers wrapping around his.

It was as much his name on her tongue as it was her touch that snapped his tenuous hold on his emotions. His careful calm finally broke, almost violently, and he hunched in on himself as the pain broke free. “I almost lost you, Gabby.” And he wouldn’t have survived if he had.

I stop when I can no longer see my screen, though I don’t know if it’s the lack of vision or the shock of knowing that I’m crying for the first time in four years that halts my progress. I probably shouldn’t be surprised, given how this series started, but I hadn’t realized until now that Captain Stacey is me.

I can already hear what June would say: “No duh, Einstein.” She’s probably even tried to tell me as much during one of our brainstorming sessions, but why would I listen? I am way too good at pretending my life is perfectly fine the way it is despite knowing deep down that I should have been in therapy from the beginning.

He needs her as much as she needs him . That’s what Bonnie said about Captain Stacey on our date last night. Our date . Which I botched because I let her get in my head. Bonnie’s not even the type of person to get inside someone’s head; I can’t imagine her being anything but selfless and sweet. Then again, I know next to nothing about her because, idiot that I am, I haven’t asked.

Some boyfriend I am.

Wiping my eyes dry, I plug in the internet router and wait for my computer to connect, and then I pull up a search engine. I know I’m going to hate this, but I type in my name anyway, holding my breath as it loads.

The first few results are pictures from the other day, when we were standing outside her trailer. Bonnie is practically glowing as she smiles at me, and even I look relatively happy beside her. Relatively being the key word there.

I scroll down a bit to find some pictures from the ice cream parlor, and I know I messed up even before I read the headline.

Small Town, Small Feelings: Is Bonnie Ready to Move On ?

I look miserable in these photos. And Bonnie may be smiling, but not even the actress could fully pretend she was having a good time last night. Basically, if I didn’t know better, I would agree with the person who wrote the article that it looks like we’re already calling it quits, and that’s a problem.

This relationship is supposed to last until Bonnie’s done filming, and there were parts of the contract I signed that suggested an even longer term in order to continue promoting the movie until it is released in theaters in the fall. If I can’t even last a week, Bonnie is doomed.

Is that really the kind of man I want to be?

I push myself out of my chair and start pacing, accidentally glancing at the umbrella in the corner even though it’s currently hiding beneath one of my coats because I couldn’t stop looking at it. Maybe it’s time I snap out of this isolated life I’ve been living for the last four years.

That’s a long time to grieve.

My pacing stops in the middle of the room as a wave of anxiety rolls over me. “Maybe I should ease into things,” I mutter out loud, as if that might help convince me.

Phantom laughter, an echo from my dream, makes me flinch and turn on another light. I don’t believe in ghosts, but hearing laughter at three in the morning isn’t exactly a calming experience. I know it’s all in my head, but…

My eyes travel around my front room, taking in the tiny space and reminding me how alone I am out here. If it wasn’t the middle of the night, I would probably call June just to hear another voice. But I don’t have a lot of options right now.

Flipping on the porch light, I grab a jacket and tug it on as I head outside.

The trees that surround my house sway in the breeze, which helps the world feel less silent, but it’s too dark for me to see anything, so that’s creepy. I try to picture the area to ground myself in the moment. Most of the trees are evergreens, but there are a good number of aspens and oaks to brighten up the landscape in the fall. We’ll be getting wildflowers in a month or two, though they won’t be at their most colorful until July, and we got a pretty decent snowpack this winter so the taller peaks to the west will still be white until July.

I’ve always loved this place, since the day I bought the house seven years ago as a vacation home.

I just never thought I would call it home .

Settling myself on the porch with my back against the house, I look up and smile when I find Heather finishing up a new web in the corner. The spider first appeared a few months ago, and her circular webs really are breathtaking. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, Heather,” I tell her. “You’ve got a long way to go before you reach Charlotte’s talent, but you’re getting there.”

I’m pretty sure talking to a spider is a sure sign of madness, but I need to talk to someone , so I’m working with what I’ve got.

“Let me lay it all out for you,” I say, crossing one foot over the other and getting myself comfortable in case this turns out to be a long chat. “I am in a manufactured relationship with Bonnie Aiken, one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. She’s an actress, and a good one, and she’s currently playing the role of Gabrielle Frost. You know, the detective in all my books? Not sure if you’ve read those or not—not judging if you haven’t. They’re not as good as everyone seems to think.”

Yeah, I’ve lost my mind, but already the tightness in my chest is easing. So I keep talking.

“The thing is, I’m not sure I remember how to be in a relationship. Even a real one. Not since…” I take a deep breath. I need to get this out, and Heather is the only person…spider…who isn’t going to judge me. Even if she is, she’ll have no way to tell me as much unless she learns how to spell .

“I was married once,” I tell her, and the words seem to tug something loose inside me, leaving me feeling unsteady. Unmoored. “Hard to believe, I know. What kind of crazy person would want to be with a loner like me? Well, Shelby was…she was definitely crazy. In her own way. The best way. And I wasn’t always like this. Especially not with her.

“I’m not sure I even remember the old Hank,” I admit. “I think… I think he died when Shelby did.”

I’m probably imagining it, but I’m pretty sure Heather shifts in her web, like she’s getting closer so she can hear me better.

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “She died. Four years ago. We used to live in Denver—me in a big city, I know—and she left for work one morning. Never made it home.”

I breathe in slowly, letting those words sink in. This really isn’t the kind of conversation I should be having with a spider, and I’m not sure if there’s anything else I can say on the Shelby front. What happened to Shelby isn’t the reason I came out here to talk to Heather. I came out here because it feels like the world is tilting on its axis and I’ve forgotten how to balance.

“See, that’s why it’s hard to imagine myself dating someone, Heather. But I gave my word to Bonnie—signed a contract too—and all I’ve managed to do so far is fail. What if I can’t help her? She needs me to boost her public image, but I’m worried I’m only going to make it worse.”

Heather wiggles her legs.

“I don’t know what that means, but I appreciate you trying to help. I think… What if I’m too far gone to be of any use to anyone?”

When I think about the person I have become over the last four years, it almost feels like I don’t actually exist. I’ve been living in a shadow, simply surviving. I’m empty, as much of a ghost as the laughter from my dream, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to come back from that.

How does anyone live again after their whole world is ripped away ?

A moth suddenly flies in front of my face, and I shriek, diving away from it as if that would actually save me from the bug. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem very interested in bothering me and flutters up toward the light. Sprawled on the porch, I hold my breath as I watch the moth get closer and closer to the large web, wondering if I’m about to witness a gruesome murder.

Sure enough, the moth gets tangled up in the web, and though it puts up a valiant fight to free itself, Heather descends with lightning speed and starts doing her thing, wrapping it up until it stops squirming.

My stomach churns—I really didn’t need that visual tonight of all nights—but I can’t bring myself to look away.

“Look what it did to your web,” I murmur as soon as I’m sure I won’t vomit into the bushes. There’s a giant tear in it where the moth struggled, and Heather just barely finished making it look so nice. She’s going to have to repair it after she’s done eating. “Why go to all that trouble of fixing it if it’s just going to be broken every time you catch your next meal? All that work…”

I groan, dropping onto my back and shutting my eyes tight. “Seriously?” I ask the universe at large. I already feel like I’m losing my mind by talking to a spider; I don’t need a life lesson out of tonight’s conversation too.

Still, maybe the universe is on to something. I’ve spent the last four years protecting myself from pain, pretending I’m happy living alone and avoiding any deep attachments. Yeah, Heather is going to have to rebuild her web because of that moth, but that moth is going to keep her alive for a long time. She probably doesn’t care about all the work in front of her because she couldn’t have gotten such a good meal if she didn’t put in the effort before.

I’ve been hiding in a corner for so long, waiting for things to feel okay again. But how am I supposed to catch anything good if I don’t accept that life comes with risks? If I don’t put in some effort to turn my life into something more than simply surviving?

I lie on the porch with Heather until the sun pokes up over the tops of the trees, the whole time wondering if I can relearn how to build my own web. I only know one thing for sure: I need to start with Bonnie and fix the holes I created last night.