Page 84 of Over & Out

Honestly I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t notice half these things until Chris. But I’m not surprised that being around her seems to be making me a better person.

I scowl now. “Are we done with the lovefest? I have shit to do.”

Toni chuckles like she’s Santa Claus.

Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling up to Chris’s place, damp and cold from the ride over but happy as fuck because I’m finallyhere. I’ve dropped her off here before but never gotten closer than the front door, so I’m excited to check it out. I want to see a whole world full of Chris. As I head up her porch steps, my brain goes to ways we could warm up together. There’s the obvious, since I’m feral for her. But cuddling up with her in front of a fire would be amazing too. Hell, I’ll do a jaunty round of caroling if that’s what she wants, though that’s probably not the best way to keep us under wraps. Plus I haven’t exactly celebrated Christmas since Mom got sick and haven’t sung a carol since I was a kid in early grade school.

I knock on the door. Chris said she’d be here at this time, so I try to ignore the little spark of concern in my stomach when she doesn’t immediately answer. Her place is about a ten-minute walk to the edge of Redbeard Cove, nestled in the trees, with a view of the mountains. It’s private—the closest neighbors are a half kilometer down the road—but still not far enough out for me to worry about her being too isolated. It feels isolated now, though. As I knock again, a little louder, the sound echoes through the trees.

“Chris?” I call.

I know I shouldn’t worry, that she’s obviously just out, but I can’t help it. Mabel’s call comes back to me, making my stomach churn.

“He’s in town, Hopper. Or at least close by. Mypeople have spotted him in Vancouver. Just thought you should know.”

“That’s not exactly in town,” I told her, like I wasn’t concerned.

But I was. I am. I know as well as she does that it’s not normal for my father to be out west. He lives four thousand kilometers away, in the bleak and fading town I grew up in, and is mostly a recluse. We know because we have someone keeping tabs on him out there. But considering the kinds of things he contacts Mabel about, I tend to picture him with a creepy-ass murder board up on his wall, tracking all the ways I wronged him.

It’s never worried me as much as it does now. Mostly because the money I send him every month is his sole source of income. And it’s a shit ton of income. But as I stand here on this porch, I feel a chill that has nothing to do with the weather around me. The stakes are higher now, with Chris involved.

I find myself walking around the side of the house, scanning the trees. And the cottage, which suddenly looks extremely vulnerable. I wouldn’t peg my father for breaking and entering, but what about his goons?

I get a brief flashback to a door kicked in. Blood on the floor. The agony of knowing I could have done something different.

How good are the locks on Chris’s house? In the woods, a crow caws, and off to the back of the house, I hear the steady trickle of water down a drainpipe. But besides that, it’s eerily silent.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, making me startle.

Fuck. I shift my helmet under my arm to access my phone. I need to get a grip.

When I see Chris’s name on the screen, though, the relief that hits me is huge. Bright. Life-giving.

CHRIS: Hey! Guessing you’re on set?

HOPPER: I’m not actually. I’m looking for someone. But they don’t seem to be home.

CHRIS: OMG! You’re at my place?

HOPPER: Yes, bangles. And I need to see you. Now, preferably. Please tell me you’re not on a massage table or something. I’d be happy for you, but I’m selfish, so please say no.

CHRIS: LOL. I’m not. And actually…I could really use your help right now.

My stomach flips. Is she in trouble? I grip the phone tighter.

HOPPER: Are you okay?

HOPPER: Where are you? I’ll be there in thirty seconds.

HOPPER: Answer me, Chris.

I’m aware I gave her .04 seconds to answer my first question. Still, the thought of her being in danger sends me into a kind of panic that feels unhinged. I have never,ever worried about someone like this before. Not even my mom, because she always had Mabel by her side, as well as various bodyguards.

I pick up the phone, frantically hitting the call button. Pick up. Pick up, pick up, pick?—

“Hey!” Chris’s voice is like a balm to my fucking soul.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

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