“Thank you for letting me stay,” I whisper. The words aren’t enough, I know.
“At night I like to sit outside before I go to bed. I talk to my Lord, tell Him of my worries and give Him my thanks. I don’t know who you talk to, Honey, but the stars sure shine bright out here and they don’t talk back like us nosy folk.” She leaves me standing alone in the room, feeling miserable.
I’ve never been the praying kind but I might just give the stars a try, because nothing else is working.
Damian~
I’m up early as always and walking down the stairs when I notice the front door is open wide. For a moment I freeze before I run back up.
I open Jean’s door and see her still in bed. Then I race to Cara’s room, slamming the door open.
My breath wheezes from my chest and for the first time in a very long time I feel a flicker of fear. Where the fuck is she?
The bed is unmade and the cupboard door is open. I race back downstairs and take a look at the door. No force of entry.
Frustrated, I rub my hand over my beard. I would’ve heard if someone broke in. I would’ve heard something if someone came for Cara.
There’s no way anyone could’ve found out where she was staying.
“Morning,” Jean mumbles as she comes down the stairs. I groan when I see she’s only wearing a top and panties. This woman is driving me insane.
“Did you hear anything last night?” I ask.
She walks toward the kitchen. “No, nothing.” I stare back outside wondering where to start. “Oh wait,” Jean calls from the kitchen, “Karen went for a walk just before I passed out.”
“What?” I ask, stunned. The glimmer of fear grows in my chest, leaving my thoughts scrambled. I’m always calm and in control. I hate not being in control. Things go wrong if I lose my shit.
“I said,” Jean appears in the doorway, sipping on a cup of coffee, “she went for a walk. She didn’t even bother closing the door behind her. A bit risky, if you ask me.”
“Was there anyone with her?” I can’t get my mind around what Jean is saying.
She frowns at me. “No. It was just her.”
“Fuck!” I race back up the stairs to my office. My eyes search for the camera and memory cards and when I find them, confusion sets in fast. She didn’t take them with her. Everything is just like I left it last night.
I pace the floor and dark thoughts start to brew in my mind. Why would she just leave? Did something happen that I’m not aware of? Is she really so upset with Jean being here?
My gut instinct tells me to search for the answer so I can fix this mess. I stalk to the filing cabinet and I take out her file. Maybe there’s something I missed about her. I open it and for a moment it looks weird, then it hits – the passport and I.D. are gone.
“Fuck,” I curse in anger. “She’s been planning this all along. That’s why she’s been acting so weird the last couple of days.” I throw the file and papers scatter across the floor. “Shit! I should’ve seen this coming.” One panicked thought after the other starts to slam into my mind. “They’ll find her. Fuck, this time they’ll kill her!”
I rush to my safe and quickly open it. I take out my gun, some ammunition, an I.D. with the name Damian Weston, and some cash, and then I run to my room. I pack a small traveling bag, the absolute basics.
On my way out I remember Jean. She’s standing by the front door still drinking coffee. I shove by her, and then call back. “You have five minutes to pack your shit. I’ll drop you off at your house.”
“What the fuck!” she yells. “Why?”
“I have something important to take care of,” I snap, already going into mission mode. No feelings, only facts.
“I paid you!” Jean screams.
I throw the bag in the back of the car and stalk back to the house. I take the cup from her hand and throw it across the yard. I take my wallet out and count out a thousand bucks. I shove it against her and then walk to the room she was staying in. I rush through the room, throwing all her stuff in her bag, and then I race down the stairs again.
I throw the bag on the porch, shove Jean outside and then lock the door behind me.
Cara. I can only think of her as I get in the car.
Cara.
Her name becomes my every heartbeat. I fucking let her feel unsafe in my house by bringing Jean here. I shouldn’t have done that. I screwed up, and now it’s time to fix it. The last I see of Jean is her waving her arms angrily at me, dressed in that skimpy top and panties.
“Fuck, Weston! You fucking screwed this up bad.” I slam my fist against the steering wheel when I reach the main road. “Which way did you go, Cara?”
Using only instinct I turn left, towards town. I will go over every piece of ground with a fine comb until I find her.
I take my phone out and quickly dial Jeff’s number.
As soon as he answers, I don’t give him time to talk. “Put a trace out for Karen Weston. We need to find her, Jeff. She’s on the run.”
“Fuck,” he groans grumpily.