Ruthless Saints

Bern is next. It’s three hours away, so I’ll make it an overnight trip. I check the bus schedule and see there’s one leaving tomorrow at twelve in the afternoon. I can spend the afternoon and Wednesday morning exploring the town's old-world charm and then return with the five-forty-five bus. In time for my shift at the bar, which starts at seven.

I check what hostels there are and decide on Backpackers Hotel Glocke. From the photos on Booking.com, the place looks clean, and the reviews say it’s comfortable.

I secure a bed for tomorrow night, then close the laptop. I pack an overnight bag and then glance around the room, wondering what else I can do before I have to get ready for work.

I check the time. Still three hours before my shift starts.

An idea begins to form in my mind, and deciding it can do no harm, I leave the cabin and walk up the road. As I head toward Carson’s house, I stop to pick flowers. I’m just going to leave them by his front door, so he knows I’m here if he wants to talk.

The walk takes thirty minutes, and when I round the bend, Carson’s house comes into view. I pause to catch my breath, and there’s an aching twinge in my chest, knowing I’m so close to him.

That’s if he’s even home.

Walking closer, my eyes scour the windows looking for any movement, but there’s nothing.

For a moment, I feel bad for trespassing, but then I push through, and I cross over a stream.

It’s so beautiful here, with the house blending in with the surrounding trees and mountainside.

And quiet… just like Carson.

Crouching by the front door, I carefully place the flowers on the wooden deck.

Straightening up, I stare at the door.

“I hope it wasn’t goodbye,” I whisper before I turn around and leave.

The walk back to my place goes quicker as it’s downhill. When I get home, I shower and change into a comfy pair of jeans and a sweater. I grab a coat in case it rains and then leave again, heading in the direction of the bar.

Feeling the weird sensation again, I glance over my shoulder, but not seeing anyone, I shrug it off.

I plan on staying in Saint Luc for another two months before choosing another village to make my home for three months.

The thought brings back the pang of sadness.

It means I really won’t see Carson again.

The ache in my heart deepens to the point that I lift a hand and rub over the tender spot.

God, I hope that doesn’t happen.

I really want to see him again.

Chapter 7

CARSON

The motion sensors go off, and soon beeping fills the house. I rush to the monitors, and my heart stutters in my chest.

Hailey.

I’ve been holed up in my house, avoiding going out because I didn’t want to run into her.

And now she’s come to me.

Fuck.

I turn off the beeping and keep watching her from the monitors. She’s carrying flowers, and she looks uneasy as she inches closer to the front door.

I watch as she sets the flowers down, and then she whispers, “I hope it wasn’t goodbye.”

Sadness tightens her features, and it makes the heaviness that’s taken up a permanent residence in my heart double in weight.

Smile.

Her lips twitch, but instead of smiling, it looks like she’s fighting back the urge to cry.

“Hailey,” I whisper, reaching out to the monitor. The pad of my finger brushes over her, and then she turns around and walks away.

When she disappears around the bend, I walk to the front door and open it. Crouching, I pick up the wilting flowers.

The urge to run after her becomes a torturous battle. I close my eyes and keep thinking about her safety.

Forcing myself to my feet, I slam the door shut and walk to the kitchen. Lifting the paper towel, I place the flowers with the others, which have already dried out.

The urge bubbles through my chest again, and this time I fail. Running to the door, I rush out of the house, and I don’t stop until I see Hailey walking ahead of me. I move into the trees lining the road so she won’t notice me should she glance behind her.

She’s wearing shorts again, her long legs on full display.

Hailey lifts her arms and gathers her hair away from her neck, and I wish I could send a breeze to cool her down.

Staying hidden behind a tree, I watch as she walks into her house.

You’ve seen her. Go home.

I remain standing until she comes out again, dressed in jeans and a sweater.

She’s probably going to the bar.

I wait until she’s a safe distance away before I follow after her.

My arms feel empty since I got to hold her.

My life is dark and cold again.

The nights are long and the days even longer.