Page 162 of Ly to Me
48
Lyra
The Panic
Carver wasn’t by my side when Dick started his usual shit beyond the window. No note taped to the door. No smell of bacon and eggs, no sound of running water.
Nothing but silence inside.
I slipped on boots and a button down of his and walked to the barn, thinking maybe he went to talk to B again.
But, no. Not only was Carver not there, his truck was also gone, something my too sleep-deprived brain failed to notice while walking out to the barn in the first place.
I ran inside to check my phone. Called him, too, when that came up empty.
Nothing.
No text. No call.
No note.
A sheen of gold went by the window as the sun crested the tops of the trees, and that sent me back outside.
I waved my hands and shouted, “Hey! Stop!”
Hayes turned slowly on his heel and put his hands up like I had a gun. He looked me over real quick, then fit both hands in his pockets. “Mornin’.”
“It hasn’t been a week yet,” I said, glancing between him and my car. “You hear from Car this morning?” It didn’t seem like his friends went against what he said to do, which meant Carver had this sent earlier for a reason.
He cocked his head, light brown brows furrowing almost with amusement. “Your car is right there.”
I crossed my arms. “Not my fucking car. My husband,Car.” He kicked at the dirt, finding it more fascinating than my question. So I stomped up to him and repeated myself. “Did you hear from my husband? Did he tell you to bring this back?”
His broad shoulders lifted. “Dunno.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I—”
“You all wenthunting, then the next day Jamie signed over his rights to the facility and seems to have left town like it was nothin’.” I tapped my foot on the gravel as his face turned slightly more stony than it had been. “You think I’m dense?”
The corner of his lips twisted ever so slightly. “No, ma’am.”
“You know my damn name, Hayes. Use it and tell me where Carver went off to.”
“Work.”
“Bullshit.” He would have left a note. He always did.
“Did you drive up there and check?”
My eyes narrowed on him. “You think you’re real funny, don’t you?”
“No.”
“You know what? I was gonna offer to drive you back to wherever you need to go from here since you brought my car back, but fuck that. You can walk.”
He laughed and turned, lifting his hand in a wave as he walked away. Apparently being mostly silent could still make you a jack-ass.
