Come Back for You
I roll my eyes and fire off a text.
Dean: I tried to take her home, she refused. We had an argument. It happens. She’ll come around.
Not sure who I’m trying to convince, them or myself. I scroll through the rest of my notifications. Missed call from ma, some emails, and a missed call from Dave, one of my kitchen guys. I hit recall and put him on speaker as I pull clothes out of my dresser.
“Hey-yo boss man,” he comes through the speaker and I roll my eyes. Dude is such a stoner, always high. But he does a bang up job in the kitchen so I let it slide.
“What’s up?” I’m buttoning my jeans when he answers.
“Can you come unlock the bar? Doors are still locked and Jim-Billy ain’t happy that his ass isn’t in a stool with a beer in front of him.” My body locks up tight.
“Where’s Whitley?” She opens the bar every day at eleven on the dot. She’s never late.
“No clue, boss man. But the doors are locked. Been callin’ her for the last half hour, no answer.” He says and something doesn’t feel right. I’m grabbing my truck keys, snagging my phone off the charger, and I’m halfway down the stairs before I realize Dave’s still on the phone.
“Boss? You there? What should I do?”
“Tell everyone we’re closed for the day. I’m gonna see if I can find her,” Ending the call, I shoot a text to Ford, asking if Lex has heard from Whitley since last night. Dread fills me as I fire up the truck and tear out of the driveway.
Whitley
Something’s not right, is the first thought I have as I come to. Blinking my eyes open, there’s a beige wall in front of me and a small nightstand with a lamp on it sittin’ between the wall and the bed. Trying to remember where I’m at or what I was doing, but everything’s foggy. I’m not sure how I got here. I go to wipe the sleep from my eyes, but I can’t. My arms are chained to the bed posts. What the hell?
Yanking on them, the metal bites at my skin and tears spring to my eyes.
“Help!” I shout, voice bouncing off the walls. I struggle, trying to free my hands, but it’s no use. Calm down, I tell myself, slowing my breathing like my therapist taught me all those years ago. Taking a breath, I count to ten and take in my surroundings. No windows on any of the walls, one door. Breathe. A toilet sits in the far-right corner of the room, a small pedestal sink next to it. The room is bare, aside from the bed and nightstand. Oh my god.
Think, Whitley. Think. I try to remember what happened last night. We went to the Christmas party. Dean and I were arguing when we got home. My memory starts to come back, little snippets here and there. Us, getting dropped off by Zander. Dean and I arguing in the kitchen. The phone call I made to Lex. She was gonna come and pick me up after I left Deans on foot. Why didn’t I let her? More tears spring to my eyes.
I hear footsteps approaching outside the door. Scrambling into a sitting position, the knob turns just before he appears in the doorway.
“Hey beautiful,” he says, giving me a smile, and suddenly I remember.
Thunder booms in the distance, echoing through the silence of the dark night. Leaves crunch under my feet as I make the walk down Shoops Lane. I sigh, cursing myself for being so dang stubborn and insisting Dean let me walk. Just what I need is a thunderstorm to top this already awful night.
Lightning cracks, illuminating the sky in the distance. Shit. I fire off a text to Lex, seeing if she can come get me, and my phone rings almost instantly.
“Hey,” I sigh into the phone.
“What the hell do you mean you’re walking home from Deans? It’s one in the morning!” Lex shouts into the phone and I can hear Ford murmuring in the background. She giggles and shushes him.
“He’s a piece of shit who broke my heart twice. We had a huge fight and I stormed off,” I say as headlights illuminate the road coming at me. I move a little further off to the side and stop walking. This road is barely one lane and it’s pitch black out.
“I’m coming right now, send me your location,” she says, the car coming at me starting to slow down.
“Hang on, don’t hang up. Please,” I beg as the car comes to a stop, an older Honda with tinted windows so dark I can’t see in. The window on the driver’s side rolls down just as the sky lets loose, the storm dropping buckets of rain.
“Whitley, what the hell are you doing?” The driver shouts and oh, thank god.
“Lex don’t worry about it,” I breathe a sigh of relief. Talk about the right place at the right time. I haven’t seen much of Kolby at work since the incident with that girl, Corrine, but man am I glad to see him right now.
“Who is that?” She asks as I run around the front of the car and climb in.
“It’s Kolby, I’m gonna have him take me home. I’ll call you tomorrow, k?” I end the call and throw myself into the car as the rain starts coming down in sheets.
“Holy shit, I’m so glad to see you,” I laugh, wringing the water out of my hair before belting myself in.
“What are you doing walking out here at night? It’s late, Whit. Bad things happen late at night,” he says, eyes straight ahead, staring out at the road. A feeling that I can’t quite put my finger on niggles in the back of my mind.