Wanderlust

He stared at me intently and then ran a hand through his hair, making it stand up at odd angles and adding a comical edge to the situation. Or maybe that was just my hysteria.

“Please tell me you’re sleeping,” he finally said. “This is some sort of waking dream or…something. I don’t know. Jesus.”

A tear fell down my cheek. “P-p-please help me.”

“Okay,” he said. “Just calm down a minute. We’ll sort this out. Where’s Hunter right now?”

“No, you c-c-can’t talk to him.” Panic bubbled up, not just for me but for James. I didn’t really believe that Hunter would hurt these people, but I didn’t want to throw the dice if I could help it. I tried to reason with him. “P-p-please, let’s just c-call them. I swear I’m t-telling the truth, and if I’m not, they’ll figure it out anyway. Please.”

He stared at me, sorrow creeping over the bewilderment in his eyes. “You’re serious.”

I nodded.

“Jesus.” He ran a hand through his hair again. “Okay, go ahead and sit down. I’ll call the cops.”

I sank into the chair while he went to the phone. He’d already dialed when Laura appeared at the door.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes were wide, frightened. Either she’d heard the tenor of our voices or just smelled the fear in the air. It was something I’d learned in my time with Hunter, that fear had a primal scent, a universal sign to get out while you still could. That was what the workers at the diner had done. You’re on your own, they’d said, thus saving their own behinds, and I couldn’t blame them. But there were people like James who didn’t think twice about trying to help me when he realized I was in trouble.

People like Laura.

James kept running his hand over his face, through his hair. It was a nervous gesture on repeat.

He spoke into the phone lowly. “Yes, I have an emergency. There’s a girl here. She’s in trouble. It’s at my house. She’s been kidnapped.”

Laura gasped, her gaze darting between me and James. I could almost see the switch flipping inside her, from sweet country woman to mama bear. She marched over to me.

“By us? Is that what you’re telling them? Explain this to me.”

“Hunter,” I whispered. Dread settled in my gut. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“Kidnapped,” she said flatly. Then louder. “You want us to believe he kidnapped you, when we all saw you walk in this house of your own free will?”

“What was I supposed t-t-to d-d-do,” I cried, silently cursing my stutter. “Run d-down the road in the middle of nowhere? My c-c-car is back in the motel where he t-took me.”

I hated that I couldn’t explain myself better, more clearly, but I was too agitated to form the words clearly. You could speak just fine with Hunter, an inner voice taunted. As if I trusted him. I hated that I trusted him.

Laura pulled the phone away from a startled James and slammed down the receiver. For a moment, no one spoke, and the room was alight with the sound of our heavy, fearful breaths.

“Laura,” James said softly. “If she’s telling the truth…”

“No.”

“We have to at least help her. If she’s lying, they’ll find out.”

“After he’s been dragged to a jail in handcuffs. Someone with a prison record. They aren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. Are you going to be responsible for that?”

His hand ran over his face, through his hair. “If she’s telling the truth…”

“She’s not. Hunter would never—“ Her voice cracked.

“Look, I have a hard time believing it too, but he never was the same after he got out. You know that. And I have no reason not to believe her.”

We were silent. I stared at them, feeling myself tremble but curiously detached. It was always easier to let someone else decide my fate. I’d certainly had enough practice.

The phone rang.

Laura picked it up. “Hello? No, I’m sorry, that was a misunderstanding. He thought I was in trouble, but I’m fine.” A few more answers and she hung up. “They’re going to send a squad car by in the morning to check up on us.”