CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Tate

"I'm sorry, Mr. Finnigan, but Luke no longer works here."

I looked past the slight young man to see if Luke was in the storeroom. His words couldn't be true, but then again, if he was anything like Luke, and considering he lived on the same religious community's ranch, I doubted he was capable of lying.

"Did he go back to work at the bakery?" I asked.

"He is taking a break from working outside the ranch, sir. I can take a message if you'd like."

"Do you know when he'll be back?" I asked, stunned that Luke hadn't told me he was no longer working in the furniture store. "Can I visit him at the ranch?"

"That wouldn't be my decision, sir. You're welcome to stop by the gate and inquire if you'd like, but we usually don't allow anyone but members onto the ranch, sir."

The kid was only doing his job of regurgitating the formal lines of his group, but his sweet disposition only angered me. And if he called me sir one more time, someone would die.

After I wrote ‘please call me' on the back of my card, I handed it to him. "Can you see Luke gets this, please?" He shoved the card into his pocket. "I really need Luke to contact me."

"I'll make sure he gets the card, sir," he responded.

I sat in the parking lot, hoping against hope that Luke would appear. When the interior lights turned off at seven, and the trucks departed, I was still sitting in my car, out of my mind with worry.

A week ago, I assumed that Luke and I had a wonderful time when we were together. Did I miss something? The Luke I was getting to know was straightforward about his life. I struggled to understand why he wouldn't tell me he was leaving the furniture store, especially after he'd disclosed how hard he'd worked to get a full-time role there.

Now I was doubting what we were to each other. My impression, and one I thought he shared, was that we were building something. Yes, we'd agreed to take things slowly, but he made it very apparent that we were courting.

He was proving to be a sensitive and lovable soul. He was romantic in the only way his limited experience would allow, and I appreciated his conservative approach. This sudden disappearance seemed off course for Luke, since he was always concerned about my well-being when we spent time together.

His extremely affectionate side had surprised me, making me more emotionally susceptible to falling for him. The sexual aspect? A much bigger surprise. Our encounter burned in my mind whenever I recalled it. Luke was cautious, as expected, but he was also forceful and eager; two things I found exciting.

I'd thought our night of passion had gone well. In fact, we'd repeated the act when we woke up. The second time was equal to, if not beyond, the first. Luke was a natural, and I was eager to help him grow more comfortable in the role I fantasized about him playing.

But was that it? Had the act of intimacy sent him running? Had I provoked bad memories of his abuse by having sexual contact with him? Mom had warned me, but I felt confident that I had been careful, making sure he was ready for each step as we connected. Had I been careful enough?

The possibility that he would simply vanish landed in my mind, and my heart seized at the prospect of never seeing him again. The tightness in my chest and an overall feeling of nausea made me want to curl up and cry. I wanted to be with Luke. My heart had already made space for him. Big, fat space. Losing him now would be unbearable.

I jumped when my phone buzzed on my lap; the screen alerting me to a text. Please be him. It wasn't.

ALEC: Why are you sitting in that parking lot?

I jumped forward, grabbing the steering wheel and twisting my body, trying to see where Alec was. I scanned the parking lot I was in, and the one across the street. Nothing. The vacant lot next door was empty as well.

ALEC: He's not coming back to work.

ME: What the fuck do you want?

I watched the three dots on my screen, indicating he was typing a message in return, but then the dots disappeared. I set my phone down, still scanning the area for Alec. And just as quickly, another text appeared.

ALEC: I warned you not to mess with the Moonies!!! Those fuckers are weird.

Me: What did you do?

ALEC: I saved you from yourself, Tate. That boy should not be staying overnight with a man of your caliber. That's not a good look for you.

ME: You're insane, asshole. Consider me unemployed!

ALEC: Suit yourself, but I don't go away so easily.

ME: There's always Daddy!

ALEC: I wouldn't do that, Tate, and remember, there's always Luke.

I jumped out of my car and ran to the back of the furniture store, where I found no one. The parking lots were empty as far as I could see, and yet it appeared Alec knew where I was.

ME: Where the fuck are you, pussy?

ALEC: I'm everywhere. Did you enjoy the deli sandwich earlier?

"Jesus fuck!" I cried, slapping my thigh. Alec knew I'd stopped at Subway two hours ago? What else did he know? Where else was he tracking me?

ALEC: Someone shouldn't have dropped Moonie boy off at his fucking front gate.

ME: Fuck you!

ALEC: Now you're talking my language, baby.

Jumping back into my car, I threw my phone on the floorboard of the passenger side and tore out of the empty parking lot, fish-tailing and spraying gravel everywhere. My temples throbbed as my foot stomped on the gas pedal. 40mph. 50mph. 60mph. 70mph. 80mph. I was in a 35mph zone and couldn't give a single fuck. Alec was going to pay when I found him.

Blue lights appeared out of nowhere; a police car gaining ground on me. Stopping on the side of the road, I reached for the glove box for my insurance and registration.

"Fucking perfect!" I growled, watching as the officer came to the driver's side door, motioning for me to roll the window down.

"In a hurry, sir?" he asked, holding his hand out for the papers I had ready. "Ninety in a thirty-five?"

"Ninety? You sure?" I asked.

"I suppose I could walk back and read the radar again, but truthfully, Mr. Finnigan, I don't think I'm gonna do that."

"How do you know my name?" I demanded. "You haven't looked at any of that," I added, gesturing toward my identification.

"So I haven't," he stated. "Lucky guess?"

Lucky guess my ass.If the man outside my window hadn't been a cop, I might have pushed more, demanded answers, and threatened him with something. What that something was, was the real problem. This officer knew my name, and I'd been in Bend less than three months.

"Just write your ticket so I can be on my way."

"There won't be a ticket tonight, Tate," he responded, using my first name this time. "Lucky for you, the fine has already been taken care of."

"How's that even possible?" I asked.

He handed my items back and grinned. "Just remember, Mr. Finnigan. Having friends with connections is a good thing." He tipped his imaginary hat at me. "Have a nice evening, Tate."

Alec Browning had connections. Important connections.

Hint taken.