As I turn it on, I see I’ve got missed calls and messages from Kol, the families of this case, and Marina. Thankfully, I was able to keep in touch with the victims’ parents via the precinct. Before I can open up anything, my phone rings with Kol’s number lighting up.
“What?” I snap, not wanting to talk to him right now.
“Aren’t you a ray of fucking sunshine. You’re perpetually cranky. You know that, right?” He laughs.
“Not in the mood, man.”
“Fine. Ember’s got a recital in four weeks. She wants you there, bro.” Our sister volunteers as a dance coach for a youth group in downtown Knoxville, and sometimes, the kids’ parents don’t come, so she tries to get us and as many of her friends as she can to go.
“I’ll do my best,” I tell him as I drive away from the precinct. Heading for the highway.
“Heard about your case. You okay, Arsen?”
“Fine. Except I fucked shit up with my girl,” I grumble.
His laughter rings hollow as I pull the phone from my ear. “What’d you do?”
“This fucking case has had me all messed up. She told me a big fucking secret as I was being called away, and I had no chance to respond. Then I broke my damn phone, and karma’s been a bitch ever since.” The more I think about it, the angrier I become.
“How long ago was this?” His laughter is gone.
“Almost three days ago,” I mumble, knowing he’s going to give me shit.
“Shit, dude, could you have waited any longer?”
“I’ve been in interrogation, asshole.”
“So, are you on your way to her place now?”
“Been there. She’s gone.”
“Gone? Where she’d go?” He seems shocked.
“Her parents.”
“That’s not–“
“In fucking Fayetteville, Arkansas,” I interrupt.
A long whistle comes through the line before he speaks again. “That’s what, six hours from you?”
“More like eight.”
“You got a siren! Use it, bro!”
“That’d be illegal. Besides, I have no jurisdiction past state lines, dumb ass.” Hitting the highway, I speed up, just going the speed limit and tell Kol, “Look, man, I gotta go. I’ve got a long fucking drive ahead of me. Tell Em I’ll do my best.”
“Call me when you get there, so I know you ain’t in no damn ditch or jail cell for the night. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Em about your girl. She’ll expect you both.” He laughs, knowing Ember will be calling me the first chance she gets now. “What’s her name, anyhow?”
“Marina Parks.” I hang up; done with the shithead. Cranking a country station, Riser by Chase Rice plays, and fuck do I wish I had Marina with me. Gliding my hands across her soft flesh for hours on end.
This is going to be a long fucking drive.
Chapter Eleven
Marina
The smell of mom’s fresh-brewed vanilla bean cacao wafts up the stairs, and I know she’s figured out I’m here. She only ever makes this when I come home, or when she visits Nashville. She won’t tell me how she makes it, either. Always saying it’s her way of making sure I come home every once in a while. And she only ever sends me back with enough for a couple of months, too.