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A surge of adrenaline courses through my veins.
While the wounds of my past lie buried within, the mention of the grave unleashes a fierce, burning intensity on the surface. Without waiting for him, I spin around and sprint as fast as my legs will carry me down the narrow dirt path alongside the barbed fence. I round the large oak tree where Rusty and I grab apples. Despite the ache in my hips, I press through the pain until I can’t run any further. Collapsing under the shade of a tree, I catch my breath. Zander jogs up, not even breaking a sweat. Despite the burn in my lungs and the spots dancing in my vision, I manage to muster a smile.
“Better?” I mutter, swiping the beads of sweat off my forehead.
He nods. “It’s a start.”
My smile falls, and I huff. “I don’t think I like you very much.”
He offers me his hand, pulling me up in one swift motion. “Not here to be your friend.”
“Do you have any friends?” I ask, dusting the dirt off my butt.
He bursts into genuine laughter. “Ready to run back?”
“You are definitely my enemy,” I murmur, jogging at a sluggish pace this time toward the house, with him laughing behind me, strolling along like he’s on a leisurely walk.
Later that night, as I lie in a hot saltwater bath, my muscles protesting every move, I think about Zander’s words.
“I want you to reach deep inside and pull out the anger you have simmering in your veins for all the people who have screwed you over and channel that rage to energize yourself.”
For the last month, I’ve been urged to be calm. Spend time with Rusty and let his strength become my own. But I need to find my own inner strength.
Dr. Betty told me part of the healing process will also involve confronting my fear head-on. But how do I do that? What does that even look like? Does she expect me to get back into a confined box? Because I struggle being in the bathroom with the door closed. Even when I die, I want to be cremated. The idea of lying there for eternity, even after death, is not an option.
Not anymore.
Strangely, my thoughts drift to Officer Paxton Turner. Does he have nightmares about finding me? Thoughts of what if he hadn’t found me. Does the profound impact of finding me resonate as strongly with him as it does with me? Then I remind myself he saves people every day. It’s his job. But the urge to reach out and tell him I’m doing better is constantly on my mind. I need to thank him for everything.
Emerging from the water, I reach for my phone, resting on the tub’s edge, playing music. I saved his number in my phone. Mainly to add more contacts than just two—Dr. Betty and Martinez. I’ll text him. This way it doesn’t have to be awkward if he doesn’t want to talk to me.
Me: Hi Paxton
I pause before continuing. Are we on a first-name basis? I shake my head and hit delete and try again.
Me: Hi, Officer Turner. This is Kali Stevens. I just wanted to tell you and Riggs that I’m doing good, thanks to you.
I hit send before I can talk myself out of it. He won’t text back, but I already feel better thanking him. After all, he likely shares his number with all the victims he deals with.
My phone dings, and I jump so fast for it that it tips, falling toward the hot water. I catch it right before it submerges. Nice save.
Officer Turner: Kali, that is great news. Please, call me Paxton. I’ve been thinking of you.
I stare at his response until the water turns cold. For a moment, I let his response be what it isn’t. I imagine a man telling me he misses me and can’t wait till the next time we see each other. The fantasy unfolds further to the day we meet again, and he pulls me in for a tight embrace, his hard body pressed against mine as he passionately kisses me.
Another ding brings me back to reality, and I chuckle at my momentary lapse into a fantasy world. Paxton probably has a wife and kids. Still holding my phone, I almost forget another text came in. When I look down, I can’t help the warm glow flowing through me.
Officer Turner: If you need any help moving into a new place, let me know.
CHAPTER 16
Kali
Me: I have a question.
Me: Feel free to say no.
This has to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever had.
