“It's fine,” I said. “I'd actually rather be alone for a bit, anyway.”
She didn't argue after that – and for that, I was grateful. I left her in Patsy's care, knowing that Patsy would make sure she got home okay. I'd know that woman for as long as I'd lived in Lynnwood. She was a good woman. Kind. Generous. Caring. She was the closest thing I had to a mother, and one of the few people I'd let inside the high, thick walls I used to keep myself safe – even if it was just the tiniest bit. I exited the bar, throwing open the door and stepped out into the night, grateful for the dry, hot air that hit my face. I took a deep breath and exhaled, forcing my shoulders to relax. Part of me wanted to turn around, go back into the bar, and go after Abby. That part of me wanted to grab her, pull her to me, and kiss her again.
God, her lips tasted so damn good, and her tight little body did things to me I never knew possible. Then again, it had been far too long since I'd been with a woman. Especially a woman I actually liked the way I like her. Which was why she was better off if I let her be. The last thing I wanted was to bring her any more pain or ruin her life.
It might hurt for now, but she was better for it. I had no doubt about that. She might not see it now, but she would see it eventually.
As I walked through the parking lot, my head filled with a million different thoughts, all disjointed and fragmented, I noticed an unfamiliar car parked outside. Though the windows were dark and tinted, I could see one man sitting inside the car behind the wheel. He caught me staring, so I looked away quickly, not wanting him to think I was someone he should start a conversation with. The mystery car was a blue Toyota Camry that was bearing California plates. Huh. Didn't see a lot of those in these parts. Must be passing through. Of course, Lynnwood was a strange place to be passing through, but not my business. I didn't give the car a second glance though, as I continued walking through the parking lot. My boots hit the hard top and it felt good to be outside, to be breathing in the fresh night air, and to be walking, instead of driving. Especially after everything that had just happened. I needed to clear my head.
Abby was a good, sweet girl, and I hated what I did to her. I'd enjoyed the hell out of it but hated that she was hurting because of it. Because of me. But, she'd get over it. She'd get over it a lot better than if I had strung her along and made her believe there could be something between us. That would have been cruel and unfair. I was an asshole, but I was not that big of an asshole.
I knew that fucking her in the first place, was wrong. I just couldn't help myself. Seeing her dancing, that smile on her face, the way she moved her hips – it was too damn hot. It was more than I could bear. She was the type of girl I knew I could get attached to, if I let myself. Which was about the furthest thing from what I needed. She might not realize it just yet, but it wasn't what she needed either.
I wasn’t what anyone needed. Hell, if Cody had been alive, he'd have told me to enjoy myself anyway. Not knowing somebody shouldn't have been reason enough to not fuck them, he would have said. She was a pretty, young thing and wasn't looking to settle down. He'd have told me I was being a fool if I passed that up. Yet, where was Cody now? Gone. Dead. His life taken by his own hand.
He wasn't the first person in my life that I'd lost, but he would be the last. I was on a mission to guarantee that. People around me had a way of dying, and I was tired of it. Call it a curse. Call it bad luck. Hell, I don't know what to call it exactly, other than fucked up.
Whatever it was though, it seemed like everyone who got close to me ended up dead. My parents. My best friend. Cody. All of them gruesome, unnatural deaths too. Like I attracted danger, wherever I went. Like I had the Grim Reaper on speed dial or something. Nobody ever seemed safe when I was around.
I wasn't about to pull Abby into my mess.
The walk home was peaceful and gave me a lot of time to think and get shit in my head squared away. I knew the way home by heart, and this wasn't the first time I'd walked home from the bar by myself after dark. The fact that Abby lived in his old house – the first person to do so since Cody's death – brought out a lot of baggage I wasn't prepared to deal with. I hated driving down that road to her house, remembering all those drunken nights Cody and I sat on his porch, drinking a few, and shooting the shit together.
My buddy was gone. One of many. I'd lost more than my fair share of others in the war, including my best friend, Jason. It never got any easier.
Which was why I'd made a promise to myself – never let anyone else in again. Not ever. That way I'd never have to go through the pain of losing them.
ooo000ooo
Two days had passed since I'd fucked her in the bathroom at the bar, and while part of me expected to see Abby's little blonde head bouncing around my property, she never showed up. Honestly, I figured that was a good thing. Probably for the best. I figured, she realized what a mistake it'd been for us to have sex in the first place, and that she thought it best that we go our separate ways.
However, on that second day, I kept looking for her. Every time I was out in the field – even while I was riding Phoenix – I kept checking for her walking along the road. She'd have to go into town again sometime soon, right? I wouldn't want her walking alone. There was a part of me that didn't want to see her again, just in case she wanted to talk about the other night at the bar. But, I was also growing worried about her.
By the time the dinner hour rolled around, I still hadn’t' seen her. So, I decided that I needed to check on her, just make sure she'd gotten home from the bar and that she was okay – nothing more. Patsy was reliable, and I trusted her completely, but I also knew that Abby was a loose cannon. You never knew what she was going to try next, and if she walked home that night and ended up hurt, God, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
I hopped in the truck and drove down the old, familiar road that led to Abby's place. I pulled into her driveway and shut off the engine, studying the house. There were no lights on inside, and it was completely dark. No porch light to dispel any of the shadows or gloom. It almost looked empty all over again.
The cicadas were the only sounds I heard as I climbed out of my truck and walked toward the front door. Was she even home? Had she made it home the other night? Was she maybe out with somebody else tonight? I walked up the front porch and peered in the window by the door. No sign of life. Nothing. I knocked anyway.
It was silent. There were no footsteps, no creaking floorboards – there was just nothing.
“Abby? It's me, Chase,” I called out. “Anyone home?”
I knocked again.
The time, I heard footsteps inside, and they were moving quickly. It was as if someone was running through the house. The front door opened quickly. She pulled it wide open and she motioned me to come inside. It was pitch black in the living room.
“What's going on?” I asked. “Forget to pay your light bill?”
I expected a laugh, some sarcastic reply – or something. But Abby shook her head. She was staring at the floor, keeping her distance from me, and was doing her best to avoid looking directly at me. Something was wrong here. I didn't know what it was, but I could feel it.
“No, I'm just resting,” she said, her voice softer than usual.
“Resting?” I asked. “As in sleeping?”
She nodded.
I scanned her body, still trying to figure out why she was acting so strangely. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Running shoes too. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I noticed that a couple of overnight bags were packed and were sitting on the floor over by the couch. I stared at her for a long moment, trying to process it all, but Abby still wouldn't look at me.