Page 24 of Mountain Freedom
Besides, this friendship was a balm for my wounded soul, and I wanted to protect it.
He pushed the door open to the dark parking lot.
“Wow,” I commented, “I hadn’t realized it had gotten so late.”
He chuckled. “No wonder they were ready for us to leave.”
“I’m parked over there,” I said, pointing to my car before realizing how silly it was. There were only three vehicles left in the lot—mine, a white truck that was obviously his, and an older, beat-up car that could only belong to the girl serving us. Jackson was a detective; he would have instantly realized which car was mine.
He didn’t comment on it though, just motioned for me to lead the way. But then his steps faltered, and I felt him tense beside me.
“What is it?”
He paused for a moment, then continued. “Nothing,” he said. “Just thought I caught a glimpse of movement. Probably a stray dog or something.”
“Probably,” I agreed. But a quick glance at his face told me he wasn’t entirely convinced. The relaxed Jackson had disappeared, and something oddly familiar was etched into his features. There was tension there, and irritation. Worry. It was a look I remembered well.
“Everything okay?”
He glanced down at me and relaxed his face, though it appeared to be a deliberate effort. “Yeah,” he said. “Long story.”
“I’ve got time,” I said, repeating the phrase he had used on me.
“Another night. Tonight was fun. Next time, we’ll pour out all our sorrows to each other.” He reached to open my door and instantly frowned when it opened for him. “Allison, you should lock your car.”
“I thought I had,” I said, confused. “It’s such an automatic thing, I can’t imagine I forgot it. Maybe I’m already slipping back into old habits now that I’m out of the crime capital of the United States.”
He reached for his pocket and pulled out a flashlight, leaning into my car to check the backseat.
“That serious, huh?” I asked, feeling my eyebrows knit in concern.
“Crime happens here too,” he said, pulling out of the car and turning back to me. His face was different again—this time, a mixture of worry and sorrow.
It hit me that he was speaking from experience and it affected him in ways he didn’t ordinarily show. “I guess you’ve seen the worst of it,” I said, my voice soft, “with what you do.”
He nodded. “We may not be Memphis, but don’t let your guard down, Allison. People get hurt here too. Did you lock up your house today?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding.
“Good.” He hesitated, then reached out and gave me a quick hug, letting go before I even had a chance to return it. He looked down at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “I’m really glad you’re back. I’ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” I said, recognizing the words to be deeply true. I hadn’t thought of Jackson in years before moving back here, but it was true just the same. Reconnecting with him was filling up a piece of me that I hadn’t realized was missing.
“See you soon,” he said, standing back so I could get inside the car. He closed the door gently, then stood watching as Ibacked out, still glancing to his right every so often in search of the shadow that had changed him.
The familiar flutterof nerves about pulling up to an empty house hit the moment I turned my car into the long driveway. Jackson’s words echoed in my mind. But there was nothing to get worked up over. I had locked up before leaving home, and I’d remembered to leave lights on both inside and out. And really, despite Jackson’s concern, the odds of anything happening here had to be something like one in a million.
Crime happened everywhere, yes, but it was almost never random. It was personal. While I wasn’t exactly beloved in town yet, my only real enemy was Beverly, and it wasn’t as if she was the kind of person to murder me in my own home. She was content with barbed words and mild sabotage at the clinic, making me miserable in hopes I would leave.
So I told myself nerves were silly, grabbed my bag, and headed into the door with false confidence—only ducking once when the bat swooped overhead again.
I let myself into the house, which was already starting to feel like home. It hadn’t taken long to discover the pleasure of living alone. The place was as tidy as I had left it, without Jen’s dirty laundry strewn across the living room. There was no annoying music blasting, no soap operas streaming on the TV. It was blissfully quiet and peaceful—until my cell phone buzzed.
Mike.I stared at the name on my caller ID, shaking my head. I had said we could try to be friends, but honestly? I wanted space. He needed to respect that.
I ignored the call, locked the door behind me, and dropped my bag on the entryway table. All I wanted now was a long soak in a hot bath. I went upstairs and started running the water,filling the garden tub with a ridiculous amount of bath salts. Then I went to my room to grab a set of clean pajamas.
Once I’d lowered myself into the bath, I laid my head back, closed my eyes, and felt a smile form on my face. This was heaven. A quiet house, a nice bath. Even better, this sweet relaxation was following an evening with Jackson that had filled my soul with goodness.
