Page 8 of Secrets That Bind Us
"You alright there, Sheriff?"
I nod, rubbing my hand over my chest– like I'd even be able to feel it through my bulletproof vest. "Just fine, Chief."
"Well," brown eyes squint at me, as though he's trying to decipher what's going on in my mind– not because of the sun beaming down at us. He chews on a toothpick, moving it to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. "Looks like you've seen a ghost." He says, head jerking towards the old Huntington place.
My eyes bounce between his, focusing on just him– not letting them trail back to her. A vision. Even from afar. "Do they even exist?"
He smirks. "At the Huntington place? You know they do."
Jason Hicks is eight years older than I am– full of such old-town wisdom that sometimes it feels like I'm talking to a mage. Right now, though, his words don't quell me. They feel heavy, foreboding.
I choose to ignore ‘em, regretting ever making him my best friend. I actually don’t really know when it happened, exactly. All I know is, it just did. "What are you doing here?" I groan, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"I was on my way to town, saw you pull over, and thought I'd make sure you were alright. Can't be easy seein’...that." He gestures again with his head.
"What is she even doing here? Marie diedyearsago."
He shrugs his heavy shoulders. For an older man, he sure keeps himself right– not falling into the old, I've-made-it-so-I-don't-have-to-work-for-it thing a lot of these old timers do. He's kicked my ass a time or two at the gym across town, lifting and squatting heavier. "Don't know. By the looks of those trucks, I'm sure to be called out to make sure everything is up-to-date and passes code. Though, with all the work you put into it when Mama Marie was alive... I'm sure it will be."
"You think she's staying?"
"If I'm honest? That house is too haunted. Too many memories, I'm sure."
I nod; slightly unnerved Jason knows things he shouldn't. Then again, I've opened my mouth one too many times during dinner when a bottle of Jose was passed between the two of us. I don't even like tequila.
"Might be the right time to break things off with... anyone that may think you're in a relationship with them."
I shake my head. "It's been so long, Chief. What if-"
"If there's ever anything you could say about me, it’s that I've never been wrong– even when I've been dumb." He interrupts, brown eyes looking over the cruiser, no longer on me. He does that sometimes – stares off like he can see something in the distance.
I hate when he does that.
"Saw Zoey looking at that old corner shop by the boutique the other day. Something ‘bout a cute bookstore slash café." He informs me, still staring off at the breeze that blows through the high wheat.
That triggers another memory.
"Maybe if I don't write anything, I could own a bookstore in town. I'd fill it with nothing but new authors. I'd help them make it big. One book at a time…"
His eyes finally snap to mine. "You just know everything, don't you?" I grumble.
"Might do you right if you pay attention to the townspeople,Sheriff."
"Or maybe the Fire Chief is just a nosy fucker and can't keep his ears to himself." I retort with an eye roll.
He laughs at this. "You may be right, but it didn't hurt, did it? Feels good to be prepared." He taps the car door twice. "See you at the barbecue? Maybe I'll invite an old friend." He emphasizes, motioning his head toward the faded home.
I shake mine quickly. "Don't. I'm not ready." I should be. I’ve been preparing for this moment for the last thirteen years. Then again, I’ve been a complete wuss-puss. I’ve driven all the way out to Dallas and different parts of Texas just to lose my nerve at the last second and stay in my car.
"We're hardly ever really ready for fate, though, are we?"
"This ain't fate. It's a cruel joke. Or both."
He shrugs again– that fucking smirk on his face. "Coulda fooled me." He walks away at that, jumping into his dad's old blue Silverado that pumps out black smoke.
"Get that muffler fixed or I'm gonna fine you!" I call out, to which he just cackles. We both know I won’t fine him. Damn thing’s been puffing out black smoke since the 1980s.
Fucker.
