Page 27 of Secret Stalker

Chapter Nine

It was tempting to barrel down the highway to Knoxville and pretend none of this had ever happened. But Bex rather doubted her mother’s old car would make it. And she was too mentally exhausted right now to make that trip.

But she wasn’t quite ready to return to her mother’s house, either. She was far too upset, and seeing the empty house wasn’t going to make her feel any better. So, instead, she wound aimlessly down the backroads until the sun began to sink in the sky, going nowhere in particular, trying to drive out her frustrations.

Driving on gravel roads was apparently a skill she’d forgotten long ago. She was forced to slow down almost to a crawl to keep her car from sliding on the loose rocks and ending up in a ditch.

It suddenly dawned on her where she was, and what was close by. She’d never intended to drive down this particular road. But now that she was here, it seemed that fate had raised its hand. And she started looking in earnest for the turnoff she knew had to be close by.

It didn’t help that the road was overgrown with weeds, the edges hard to see, especially in the gloom from the oak tree branches blocking out the fading sunlight overhead. Maybe she should turn around and rent a four-wheel drive before coming out here. Then again, if she didn’t do this now, she never would.

She wasn’t sure why doing this was suddenly so important. After all, living in the past had never done anything for her before. But with the present so painful, maybe this was just the thing, to remember better times and pretend, if only for a moment, that all the bad had never happened.

“Where are you, where are you?” she muttered, peering through the trees on the right side of the road. Just when she thought she’d have to give up and turn around, she saw it—an old, weathered barn hundreds of yards away, perched upon a slight rise.

She slowed the Taurus, mildly surprised she was able to make the turnoff without wrecking the ancient car. The trees fell away as she accelerated across the fallow field, dried-up remnants of cornstalks, long since harvested, the only evidence of the last crop that had been planted here.

In her mind’s eye, the barn was like a familiar Norman Rockwell painting, a beacon of happier times, welcoming her home. But she couldn’t ignore reality for long. The barn was dilapidated, crouching like an evil gargoyle against the dead land surrounding it. Time had not been kind to the abandoned building. Holes had been punched in its rotten walls, probably by animals that had made their homes inside. She parked beside it, not too close, for fear a stiff breeze might blow the building over on top of her car.

Leaving her purse and keys in the Taurus, she made a slow circuit around to the front of the barn and stopped. Funny how so much had changed, and yet, everything was the same. The red paint that had once graced the structure was nearly gone. But the initials carved into one of the boards to the right of the door remained—MR + BK, with a Cupid’s arrow running through the middle.

Max’s words at the lawyer’s office echoed in her mind.

Ancient history. It meant nothing.

That last part was what hurt the most. It meant nothing. What had he meant by “it”? The seven years they’d been best friends? The three years they’d been serious boyfriend and girlfriend? That last year, when they’d finally gone all the way? They’d pledged their love to each other. Had it all been a lie on Max’s part? Had everything he’d said in her mother’s kitchen been a ploy to get her to talk?

It shouldn’t matter. Good grief, she was approaching thirty now. A small-business owner with an established life in another town, with friends who didn’t care about whatever past she’d left behind. This barn, those initials carved in the wood, they were the part of her life that really was ancient history, just as Max had said.

But it was her history, a very important part that had made her the person she was today, for better or for worse. And she’d never realized until now just how stuck in the past she was, and that she’d never really cut the tether to Destiny. To Max. Part of her was still here. Part of her had never left.

Until now, she’d never wondered whether the love between her and Max had been real or not. Just thinking that what she’d thought of as the very best part of her life, as a beautiful experience, might have meant nothing to him twisted a knife deeper into her heart.

Angrily brushing at the tears running down her cheeks again, she sent up a quick prayer that the building was sturdier than it looked and headed toward the enormous double doors built to accommodate a small tractor, or maybe a pair of draft horses in older times.

The rusty chain looped from one door handle to the other was more of a suggestion than an impediment to her getting inside. All she had to do was squeeze in the opening between the two doors after ducking beneath the chain. And suddenly it was ten years ago, as if she’d never left.

The missing and damaged boards allowed enough light to seep in for her to see that little had changed inside since she and Max had sneaked into this old barn that first night, and again several more times after that. He’d laid a blanket and pillow down onto a bed of fresh hay. They’d introduced each other to a world of passion that neither of them had ever experienced before. It was the most wonderful moment of her young life up to that point. She’d been so naive, believing that love would last forever. But nothing lasted forever, if indeed it had ever existed.

She wrapped her arms around her waist and stepped farther into the barn.

“What are you doing in here, Bex? It’s dangerous. Didn’t you see the No Trespassing signs out front?”

She whirled around, pressing a hand against her heart even as she recognized Max’s voice.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. “You’ve been crying.”

“I’m fine. What are you doing here? This can’t be a coincidence.”

“I tailed you out of town.” He held up his hands as if to stop any angry words. “I wasn’t trying to be intrusive or nosy. But you seemed upset and I was worried about you driving while upset. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.” He looked around the barn. “Imagine my surprise when you turned in here.”

She wasn’t feeling charitable enough at the moment to believe that he’d followed her out of worry. In fact, she was more inclined to believe something else entirely.

“I didn’t wreck. Yay me. But I’m thinking your true reason for following me is that your chief ordered you to. Well, you can turn around and go back to the station. Tell him you did your duty, tried once again to convince me to go to the station, and once again I refused. Go on. I don’t need you here. And we both know you sure as hell don’t want to be here. Not with me. If you ever did.”

She turned her back on him and waited to hear his boots make a path to the doors. Instead, he moved closer. She could feel the heat of his body at her back even through her sweater. And she hated that what she wanted to do, what she really craved, was to take one step back and lean into him. She wanted to feel his arms come down around her, hold her and this time never let her go. And she hated herself for it.

“Bex, what’s wrong?” His deep voice curled itself around her like an invitation.

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