Molly:

For the third day in a row, I’ve woken up to a note on the nightstand from Tucker.

“Have a wonderful day, love,” scrawled in pen, or “See you at 7, beautiful.”

While I appreciate his sentiments, I don’t appreciate the fact that he’s been sneaking out without saying goodbye, though. I realize I told him I needed to just take a week away from the story, write some fluff pieces and try to figure out if maybe there’s a different angle I can take going forward, but something about this feels really strange.

When he comes home at night, he’s exhausted, and when I ask him what he was up to all day, he’ll tell me the usual “hunting, fishing, scouting for deer, bushwhacking trails.”

When I ask him if I can come along, he just says “maybe next week.”

It doesn’t stop me from caring about him more and more every day. In fact, it’s making me nervous as to how much I am falling for this man who doesn’t even know his name. But I did promise him I would stay out of his business with the Vagrants, that my job wouldn’t come between him and his crew, and so I try to just avoid asking questions.

I get out of bed and slide on some flip-flops so I can take Dolly out for her morning prance around the campground and walk myself over to the community bathrooms, too. It’s already ninety degrees outside. It’s been an unusually hot summer, and even walking the thirty yards or so back to the bus has me a sweaty mess. Thank goodness my tiny bus has air conditioning.

When I get back, I’m completely startled. Sitting on my front porch is the dark-haired giant, Moss, scowling so hard his teeth are showing.

“Where the fuck is he?” he snaps.

“I don’t know. He’s supposed to be with you. Maybe you just missed him or something.”

He stands up, towering over me by at least a foot, and Dolly begins growling, snapping at his ankles. He goes to kick her off.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I’ve never seen her in full-blown attack mode so I can’t make any promises as to what your face will look like when she’s done with you,” I warn him.

He backs off slightly, shaking his head at me, those dark eyes full of rage.

“I haven’t seen him in almost a week. Nobody has. We figured you stole him from us for good.”

The wheels in my head are turning. If they haven’t seen him for a week, where could he possibly be?

“Moss, I have no idea where he is. And I have a feeling this isn’t some sort of wellness checkup, either.”

“Can’t a guy just worry about his brother?”

“What’s there to worry about? He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah well, he’s a grown man who knows some shit. And by proxy, you’re a grown woman who knows some shit.”

I’m really wishing I had my gun on me right now because he’s making me really uncomfortable. I’m really wishing Tucker was here right now instead of wherever he’s hiding.

“Please don’t make me call the cops,” I tell him. “I know nothing. I have no idea where Tucker is and all I know about you and your men is that you will take and take whatever anyone gives you until you bleed them dry.”

“You know what I was in jail for?” he sneers.

“I can only imagine,” I say, trying to show him how little I care, showing him how much I want to distance myself from him and his men.

“Battery. I beat the shit out of Luna because she was acting like a mouthy bitch. Kind of like you’re acting right now. The only reason I got caught was because some other mouthy bitch called the police. Shit got overturned, but I stopped showing up to the meetings with my parole officers, and that’s why they picked me up this time.”

My hands are trembling, but I know there are enough people parked in this campground that if he tried anything, all I’d have to do was scream.

“Get out of here,” I tell him. “Go back where you belong. You and your fucked-up crew just stay the hell away from me and Tucker.”

“You tell him I’m looking for him.” I roll my eyes at him, showing him how very little he actually has me rattled, and he slinks off to his four-wheeler, looking over his shoulder at me mockingly.

You tell him I’m looking for him, I think, as anger creeps through me. Me fucking too.

I don’t know where he could possibly be. I don’t understand how he could just disappear all day and come home at night like everything was normal if he’s hiding something from me. He’s obviously lying.

And if he’s willing to lie about that, what else is he lying to me about?

I slam around in my bus, trying to dress myself for the day. You know how when you’re seeing red you start doing stupid stuff like stubbing your toes and dropping stuff? By the time I got to putting on mascara, I was done. I have streaks across my face from a combination of crying angrily and clumsiness.

I need to get out of here. I need to go blow off some steam. I try to text Cheryl but she doesn’t answer.

Maybe I’ll just take a walk down to her studio. I know she’s trying to do some renovations. Maybe getting my hands dirty will calm me down until I can confront Tucker tonight when he comes back from whatever he’s doing.