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He hurried down the hall before Harper could stop him and went right into the bathroom, locking the door. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. He was so sick of being on edge, but he didn’t know how to stop it. It wasn’t like there was a switch he could flip to make it all go away. Damn he wished there was. Life would be so much easier to deal with.
Maybe a shower would help. He doubted it, but he held onto the sliver of hope that the hot water would fix him.
Forty minutes later, Milo headed out, deciding to walk into town instead of drive. He usually enjoyed a good walk, but today his shoulders were tense from constantly looking over them. Every car that drove by made his heart race, and every time he heard any sort of noise, he jumped. He always caught himself, snapping into action, ready to take down anyone who came at him, except there was never anyone there other than a poor squirrel who was just trying to find his lunch.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to get it together. “Before you actually try to fight a squirrel,” he said to himself. “Because let’s be honest, you’ll probably lose. They’re fast little suckers.”
“Hey Milo.”
He dropped his hand and turned his head to see Mr. and Mrs. Greene making their way down the road in their golf cart. Their dog, a Yorkie named John Andre, sat on Mrs. Greene’s lap and let out a bark when he spotted Milo.
Milo waved.
“Do you need a ride into town?” Mr. Greene asked.
“I’m good,” he said. “Trying to get some exercise.”
“Don’t overdo it. You don’t want to aggravate your leg,” Mrs. Greene said like the mom she was. Liv always complained her parents were overbearing, but Milo appreciated it.
“I’m taking it easy,” he said.
“And how are you doing?” Her warm brown eyes landed on him and concern filled her gaze. “It’s absolutely horrible what happened to you.”
Damn it. Milo knew it was only a matter of time before news hit the gossip mill and the whole town was talking about his brush with death. Luckily, he’d already told his parents so they wouldn’t find out from someone else.
He’d really hoped the guy would have been caught before word got out. He didn’t want anyone to be scared of their small town. Morgan’s Bay was safe—it always was—and now because of some asshole, their happy bubble had been popped. He wanted the townspeople to be able to stay in that bubble for as long as possible.
“I’m doing okay,” he said. “Was a little bit of a scare when it happened, but I’m here to talk about it, and I’m counting my blessings.”
“I’m so happy to hear that. When Olivia told us what happened, my heart nearly beat out of my chest. It could have been any of us.”
It could have been, and that’s what kept Milo up at night. In a sick and twisted way, he was happy it happened to him and not the Greene’s, or Mrs. Wheeler, or Hal, or Harper, or Judy, or Tom. Milo’s heart clenched at the awful visions scrolling through his mind.
There was a reason it happened to him. He managed to stay calm and gave the guy what he wanted. “He’s gone now, and I have faith in our police department that they’ll find him.” John Andre barked, and Milo was grateful for the interruption. “I’m sorry, am I not paying attention to you?” Milo reached out and gave John Andre a head rub. He licked Milo’s hand as he pulled it away.
“You sure you don’t want a ride?” Mr. Greene asked. “You can hop right on the back.”
“No, I’m set on walking, but thanks for the offer. I really appreciate it.”
“You take care,” Mrs. Greene said, shifting John Andre to her other side. “And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out.”
“I won’t. Thank you.”
They took off—as fast as they could in the golf cart—and Milo waved as they went. He didn’t walk right away. If he did, he’d wind up pacing them. After a few minutes, he started toward town again. Unfortunately, Mrs. Greene’s questions had stirred the nightmares in his mind. Horrible scenarios played out one by one, and he was a prisoner to their relentless reel. He couldn’t close his eyes to force the images away; they only became more vivid when he did.
He tried to think of things that made him happy—barbeques, the smell of low tide, water balloon fights, Harper, but not even Harper’s gorgeous face could save him from his own thoughts. The only thing he could do was try to ignore them and hope that if he didn’t feed them, they’d disappear.
With the only sliver of hope he had, he held onto it with all that he was, and continued on his way.
Chapter 22
Harper pulled up to Mom’s house and let out a breath. The gardens looked great—better than they had in years. Mom always took particular care of her garden, but the blooms seemed a little brighter this year. Maybe it was a sign for brighter things to come.
Milo was right. Damn him to hell. Life was too short, and she needed to stop being so hard on Mom, especially if she was serious about staying sober this time. Harper admired the flowers as she passed and headed inside.
The sound of a video game greeted her as she walked through the door and toward the living room. Tom sat on the edge of the couch, eyes focused on the television and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He was in deep concentration.
“Hey Tom.” Harper sat next to him.
