Page 54
Story: Dying to Meet You
Chapter Thirty-Three
Until the day I die
Eden
Myentireworldisin upheaval.
Weston is missing.
Hutton has disappeared off the grid like countless times in the past, he’s in danger this time.
Matt is gone, but we have no idea where.
Zinnea told me last night God is mad at her, so we’re all going to burn.
Chris is worried Blaine is going to relapse.
And I simply feel like shutting down.
Now Keir told me he’s worried about Matt’s possible involvement in Weston’s disappearance. Would Matt ever put us through hell like this?
The monsters in my head remind me how dangerous trusting even loved ones is.
Staring at the animal pen from the kitchen window, I mindlessly take a swig of my tasteless, reheated coffee. My hand starts to shake when I notice I’d poured it in the mug Weston made me for my birthday.
“If you’re going to work today, which sounds like a rotten idea, you can’t go there alone,” Blaine says, shifting Zeb to his other hip. “Take Keir with you.”
Over the rim of his coffee cup, Keir says, “I was already going to, whether you liked it or not.”
Going to work is a cover. There is no way I can sit in group or private sessions with any of my patients when I’m in this headspace. Kim suggested it, but the only reason I went along is because it puts me at the center where I fully intend to poke around. The Realists may no longer be there, but among the remaining original buildings and land, there may be a message or even another threat.
It’s the ability to actively look for Weston without being told I’m interfering that has me out of bed, dressed, and ready to go. “I assumed I’d have a bodyguard.” My smile at Keir is weak and falls off my face quickly. “Prepare to be bored stiff since you can’t sit in on my appointments.”
Leaving the kids is difficult. When Waverly starts to cry, I almost back down, but there’s a feeling of certainty in the pit of my stomach that I’m making the right decision. Even if the police have searched, they don’t know Wes like I do, and they don’t understand the mindset of a cult member.
Blaine corners me in the kitchen as I put my coffee cup in the sink. “Ed, if Keir is starting to question Matt-” he pulls me in for a hug, his mouth near my ear, “we have to start considering he’s gotten involved with-”
“Not in a million years, B. Not a chance.” I know his heart, and I know the love he has for the kids. He’d kill himself before jeopardizing anyone in this family.
“Will you still feel this way if he shows up with Weston after he made it a point to pull the FBI away?”
Entering a side door of the building, I try to avoid being spotted by patients. Dr. Wallen didn’t answer when I tried calling him, wanting to warn him that I’d be coming in. Maybe this way, though, I can avoid him trying to talk me out of it. Keir keeps touching me-reaching out to lightly stroke my lower back, running his hand down my arm, and taking my hand. It’s like he’s trying to remind himself I’m close and I haven’t gone anywhere. He just knows what hand placement is…reassurance for both of us.
Once we’re in my office, I check my messages. There isn’t any from the only person I’m interested in hearing from, other than my husbands or Weston, and that is whoever is responsible for this living hell. I don’t think Keir will agree to my idea of roaming around the property, but the thought of worrying him by giving him the slip makes me feel terrible.
“Here’s the thing…” I level with him while looking at the picture on my desk of the kids. “I’m not here to work.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I’ll let you sit with that
Blaine
Thepillsareonthe counter in front of me. I’ve rearranged them six times. Looking in the bathroom mirror at myself; five o’clock shadow, dark smudges under my eyes from lack of sleep the last three days, and my wavy hair sticking up to the side of my head. I look like I fucking feel.
Like a trainwreck, like a dumpster on fire…like an addict wanting to fall into a hole.
I couldn’t take another second of listening to Kim go on about her dull-as-fucking-ditch-water trip to Las Vegas. With the kids visiting their great grandparents in Hutton’s addition, Caleb praying for all of us with his church buddies, and…fuck. I hate this.
Until the day I die
Eden
Myentireworldisin upheaval.
Weston is missing.
Hutton has disappeared off the grid like countless times in the past, he’s in danger this time.
Matt is gone, but we have no idea where.
Zinnea told me last night God is mad at her, so we’re all going to burn.
Chris is worried Blaine is going to relapse.
And I simply feel like shutting down.
Now Keir told me he’s worried about Matt’s possible involvement in Weston’s disappearance. Would Matt ever put us through hell like this?
The monsters in my head remind me how dangerous trusting even loved ones is.
Staring at the animal pen from the kitchen window, I mindlessly take a swig of my tasteless, reheated coffee. My hand starts to shake when I notice I’d poured it in the mug Weston made me for my birthday.
“If you’re going to work today, which sounds like a rotten idea, you can’t go there alone,” Blaine says, shifting Zeb to his other hip. “Take Keir with you.”
Over the rim of his coffee cup, Keir says, “I was already going to, whether you liked it or not.”
Going to work is a cover. There is no way I can sit in group or private sessions with any of my patients when I’m in this headspace. Kim suggested it, but the only reason I went along is because it puts me at the center where I fully intend to poke around. The Realists may no longer be there, but among the remaining original buildings and land, there may be a message or even another threat.
It’s the ability to actively look for Weston without being told I’m interfering that has me out of bed, dressed, and ready to go. “I assumed I’d have a bodyguard.” My smile at Keir is weak and falls off my face quickly. “Prepare to be bored stiff since you can’t sit in on my appointments.”
Leaving the kids is difficult. When Waverly starts to cry, I almost back down, but there’s a feeling of certainty in the pit of my stomach that I’m making the right decision. Even if the police have searched, they don’t know Wes like I do, and they don’t understand the mindset of a cult member.
Blaine corners me in the kitchen as I put my coffee cup in the sink. “Ed, if Keir is starting to question Matt-” he pulls me in for a hug, his mouth near my ear, “we have to start considering he’s gotten involved with-”
“Not in a million years, B. Not a chance.” I know his heart, and I know the love he has for the kids. He’d kill himself before jeopardizing anyone in this family.
“Will you still feel this way if he shows up with Weston after he made it a point to pull the FBI away?”
Entering a side door of the building, I try to avoid being spotted by patients. Dr. Wallen didn’t answer when I tried calling him, wanting to warn him that I’d be coming in. Maybe this way, though, I can avoid him trying to talk me out of it. Keir keeps touching me-reaching out to lightly stroke my lower back, running his hand down my arm, and taking my hand. It’s like he’s trying to remind himself I’m close and I haven’t gone anywhere. He just knows what hand placement is…reassurance for both of us.
Once we’re in my office, I check my messages. There isn’t any from the only person I’m interested in hearing from, other than my husbands or Weston, and that is whoever is responsible for this living hell. I don’t think Keir will agree to my idea of roaming around the property, but the thought of worrying him by giving him the slip makes me feel terrible.
“Here’s the thing…” I level with him while looking at the picture on my desk of the kids. “I’m not here to work.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
I’ll let you sit with that
Blaine
Thepillsareonthe counter in front of me. I’ve rearranged them six times. Looking in the bathroom mirror at myself; five o’clock shadow, dark smudges under my eyes from lack of sleep the last three days, and my wavy hair sticking up to the side of my head. I look like I fucking feel.
Like a trainwreck, like a dumpster on fire…like an addict wanting to fall into a hole.
I couldn’t take another second of listening to Kim go on about her dull-as-fucking-ditch-water trip to Las Vegas. With the kids visiting their great grandparents in Hutton’s addition, Caleb praying for all of us with his church buddies, and…fuck. I hate this.
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