“Hey,” I croak, putting the coffee down.
“Are you all right? Mallory called me this morning and said Graham told her you called last night.”
“Yeah.” I think back on the phone call with my brothers and squeeze my eyes shut.
“He’s married, Sienna?”
“Yeah.”
“I . . . I don’t really know what to say,” she breathes.
“Me either.”
I grab an Arrows throw blanket and press it against my cheek. The softness of the fabric just reminds me of the way Walker’s shirts feel against my skin. I toss it back on the floor.
“I wish I were there with you,” Camilla says. “I hate being so far away when things like this happen. Do you want me to come? I will.”
“I know you will,” I tell her, expecting tears but they don’t come. “But I think I’m going to come home.”
She starts to say something, but stops before she gets it out.
“I don’t know what to do, Cam,” I say, my voice shaky. “Everything I thought was wrong. Everyone here must’ve been laughing at me. Heck, I’m laughing at myself. Do you know I was thinking maybe I could fit in here? Me,” I laugh in a self-deprecating kind of way. “I was drinking the Kool-Aid with a straw.”
“Sienna, stop it. There’s nothing wrong with hoping for something.”
“Yeah, well, I think this proves you wrong.”
“No, it doesn’t,” she scoffs. “Have you talked to him?”
“Why does everyone want me to talk to him?” I say, getting to my feet. I pace the room, trying to stop my toes from freezing. “For the first time in my life, Lincoln is the only one out of you that makes sense.”
“Oh, God. You’re to the point of listening to Linc?”
“I’m not kidding,” I fire back, annoyed at the laugh in her tone. “He’s the only one who thinks Walker needs junk-punched.”
“Well, junk punch him then. No one is stopping you.” She sighs, getting her thoughts together on the other end of the line. “People aren’t perfect. Sometimes they mess up. Sometimes they make a plan for things and then things happen that skew that and they don’t know what to do. You know, maybe he was going to tell you. Maybe there’s a reason he didn’t.”
I storm down the hallway and rifle through my closet until I come up with a pair of pink slippers. Shoving my feet in them, I sit on the edge of the bed. Looking over my shoulder, I see the messy sheets and moved alarm clock and remember Walker playfully asking me to dinner just a few days ago.
Choking down the bile that’s creeping up my throat, I switch the phone in between my hands. “I do think he was going to tell me.”
“You do?”
“He was going to go out of town,” I say slowly. “I wonder if it had something to do with her.”
“You’ll never know if you don’t ask.”
“But does it matter?” I ask. “Can I even look his family in the eye again and know that they let him play me and didn’t say a word?”
Her irritation sweeps through the line. “Think about this, okay? And it might not be apples-to-apples, so don’t start arguing that it’s not the same. I don’t know the facts. I’m just making a point.”
“Fine.”
“Let’s say Ford had gotten married when he was young, before he went into the Marines. Let’s say the Marines sent him overseas and she left him and he came home preoccupied or something and never got around to finding her. Then let’s say he met Ellie and brought her around and we all know he’s still married to mystery woman, all right? Do we tell Ellie?”
“No,” I say immediately. “It’s not our place.”
“Exactly. And we love Ellie. We don’t want to push her away. She’s great for Ford, right?”
Flopping back onto the bed, the stress of this whole thing too much to take, the lack of sleep and throbbing temples too much to work through, I close my eyes. “I need to go, Camilla.”
“Are you going to go find him?” she asks, a hint of hope in her voice.
“Nope,” I say, barely able to get the words by the dryness in my throat. “Going to sleep. Turning my phone off, so don’t panic when I don’t answer,” I yawn. “I’ll call you later.”
“Call me if you need anything at all.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye, Sienna.”
THE RAIN HAMMERS THE metal roof of Crank. It’s been a consistent downpour since I pulled up around five this morning. I drove around town and over to Merom and couldn’t find her. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t stand the house for another damn minute, so I came here. Peck showed up around six. On his day off. Fucker.
He’s kept busy all morning in the shop, tying up a few loose ends and getting shit organized. He’s not supposed to be here today and none of the stuff he’s doing is urgent. I want to send him home, but I’m afraid if I open my mouth, I’m gonna lash out, and I’m smart enough to recognize that and that Peck doesn’t deserve it. I just can’t find out how to kick my own ass.