Page 218 of ClickBack

“You still there?” Jarrett asks.

“Yes.”

“Keep talking to me.”

“About what?”

“Whatever you can.”

I tell him about the child’s shoe. About the man in front of me buying enough ice to suggest a very large cooler. About the fact that I have been sitting at the pump so long someone must be wondering why I haven’t bought anything.

“They’ll live,” he says.

I almost laugh.

He tells me when they are on the road. Later, he tells me when they are close. The waiting is long enough for the woman and child to come back, for two more cars to use the pump beside me, for me to stop crying and start again without having to explain why.

“You’re taking a long time,” I say.

“I don’t live in Cedar Mill.”

“I know.”

“I’m working on getting to you. Let me do that.”

I turn the phone against my cheek. “All right.”

When Graves’s SUV pulls beneath the canopy, Jarrett is looking for me through the windshield. Graves stops at an open space near the pumps, and Jarrett is out before I can sit up properly.

His voice reaches me through the phone and the glass.

“Unlock it, baby.”

I do. He opens the door and bends toward me. For a moment he only looks at my face.

“I told her,” I say.

“Okay.”

“I can’t tell you the rest yet.”

“You don’t have to.” He holds out his hand. “Come here.”

I release the seat belt and get out. He brings me against him before I can decide what to do with my arms. I put them around his back and hold his shirt in both hands.

“I hurt her.”

His hand moves over the back of my head.

“I told her everything, and I hurt her.”

He holds me closer. He does not tell me I didn’t.

When I can stand without leaning on him, he asks whether I want to sit in Graves’s car while he gets the gas.

“I’ll stay here.”

“All right.”