Page 11 of Salvation (Clover-Hills #1)

Blake

A fter catching up with Whitney, talking about the job and agreeing I would start on Monday, as well as promising to make plans to hang out, I decided to walk the town.

One of the things I’ve always adored about Clover-Hills is that you can see the whole town’s layout from wherever you’re standing.

It’s open, shops wrapping around the town square in a circle.

A walking path circles all around, with tall black lanterns and trees spaced every couple of feet.

Street parking is available in front of almost every shop.

A large white gazebo is placed in the center of town with a clock tower directly behind it, attached to the only church in town.

Various benches and perfectly manicured bushes are scattered throughout the square.

It’s cloudy overhead, making the beating sun far less intimidating.

It’s currently creeping towards the end of July, and it’s typically unbearably hot around this time, so I’m grateful for the reprieve.

As I stroll, I bask in the feeling of the light that touches my exposed skin, glad that I chose to wear jeans and comfortable shoes while I take in the familiar buildings.

The Clover-Hills Diner, Jake’s Quick-Stop and Convenience, Clovers’ Vet Services, Dusty Layne Boutique, Benson’s Motor Shop, the Clover-Hills police and fire station attached to the town’s local news station, and Maurice’s Antiques.

As I pass Maurice’s, I pause in the window, my eyes catching on the various glass figurines gleaming from the afternoon glow. So many glass turtles; it’s borderline scary.

There’s a little one with giant glasses holding what looks like a joint, and I can’t stop myself from outright giggling at how ridiculous it is.

Vivienne and I both smoked for the first time together in college and while we decided it wasn’t something we wanted or needed to relive, it was easily one of the funniest nights we’ve ever spent together.

I just know she’d get a kick out of this, and the thought of her makes me want to crawl back into bed and cry because of how far away I am from my best friend.

She has always had a weird obsession with sea turtles, even though she’s quite literally never left the confines of New York to see one.

I feel a smile creeping onto my lips at the reminder, so I snap a picture of the figurine and send it to her.

I’ll be wrapping it up and mailing it to her, but I’ll keep that a surprise.

Viv:

OMG!!

That reminds me of the night we got stoned, and I forced you to watch a live aquarium cam with me

I would book a flight just to see that

And you, of course

I miss you ??

I miss you too. Call you later?

I almost debated on telling her about Whitney’s current situation, but I know it’s not my place. She’ll tell her when she’s ready.

Yes, please! I think I’ll start to break out into hives if we don’t talk soon

I laugh at my phone before tucking it into the back pocket of my jeans and swinging open the door to the shop. I silently thank the gods above that I don’t recognize the young girl scrolling through her phone and smacking on bubblegum behind the cash register.

“Welcome in.” She murmurs from where she’s seated, not even glancing up from her phone.

“Hi.” I mutter back, pivoting to grab Vivienne’s turtle before bringing it to the checkout counter.

The store is crowded with all sorts of random items, and I’m extra careful not to bump into anything.

The young girl places her phone down after typing furiously on it.

Her eyes light up when she sees what I’ve set down, but then scrunches into a look of surprise when she sees me.

“You smoke a lot of weed or something?"

A laugh bubbles up in my chest, and I cover my mouth, completely shocked by her question. “What? No,” I respond, still teetering between shock and laughter. She glances down at the turtle with raised brows.

“It’s for a friend.”

“She smokes a lot of weed, then.” This kid is hilarious . But I don’t say that.

“Er-no…aren’t you like twelve?” I crane my neck around the store to see if there’s anyone taller roaming around. “Why do you know what weed looks like?”

“I’m seventeen.” she deadpans, and I try not to wince at the look she’s giving me.

“…Right. Well, just this please.”

“That’ll be five dollars,” she says, smacking her gum. As I go to hand her cash, I catch a glimpse of a nasty bruise marring her wrist and slipping out from her long-sleeve shirt.

“Ouch. How’d you get that?” I nod towards her arm, and she rips it back, tugging the sleeve down to conceal what I’ve already seen and sitting up straighter in her chair. “I fell,” she snaps.

My brows shoot up at her quick answer. Before I can say anything else, a soft voice from beside us calls out, “Elain, why didn’t you say we had a customer?

” An older lady, probably in her mid to late 40s, hobbles into view.

Her hair is the same light brown as Elain’s, and it’s easy to place that it’s her mom.

“I was just finishing up. Your daughter was super helpful in helping me pick out a gift.” I wiggle the small white bag that houses the turtle after Elain pushes it towards me on the counter.

I shoot a playful wink her way, causing her to look at me oddly before glancing behind her mother as if checking for someone.

“Well, I have to run some more errands. Thanks for the help.” I chirp. My phone buzzes, and I nearly bump into a shelf on the way out because of it.

Mom:

Can you pick up some toothpaste before I grab you later? I forgot it when I went grocery shopping.

Sure

Hope you’re having fun with Wesley. I have to help Ana with something, so I’ll pick you up in about an hour

Or two

I roll my eyes, but her texts remind me that I need to get a car. The deafening sound of thunder looms overhead as I type my response.

I’m going to call the airport and get a rental car

Why? There’s an extra one in the garage you can use.

I narrow my eyes at the text, like I can somehow manifest that she sees it.

Of course there is, and of course she would hide that little detail so I couldn’t protest going with Wesley or at least take a separate freaking vehicle.

She may be getting older, but she’s not senile enough to fool me.

She knew about it before and deliberately didn’t tell me.

I’m not paying attention to where I’m walking, so I find myself barreling into a hard wall and nearly falling flat on my ass.

My phone tumbles away, landing so hard on the concrete I’m sure it’s cracked even worse than it already has.

“Oh, sorry, Hun. I didn’t see you there. ”

Not a wall. A man. A manI know. He bends down to pick up my phone, stretching out his hand to give it back to me. His eyes light up with recognition as he finally looks at me, and I wince. I was hoping he wouldn’t.

“Blake Warner! That’s so funny. I was just headed out of town to see your father today,” he says, oblivious to the mental turmoil he's fueling with every word.

Nausea bubbles in my stomach, and fear lances through me. Jason. One of my father’s closest friends. Probably the only friend my father has. I should have known he’d still see him, even if it’s behind a glass wall. He’s going to tell him that he saw me. He’s going to tell him that I’m home.

I do the only thing I can think of. Lie my ass off, and hope it works. I feign confusion, taking my phone back like I’m completely weirded out. “I’m sorry. My name’s not Blake.”

“Oh,” he laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “You just look so much like this kid I know.”

“Sorry. Have a nice day.” I turn back the way I came. Trying and failing to make it look casual. Once I turn a corner, I allow my steps to slow. I place my hand on my forehead as I lean against a cool, hard wall. I’m being crazy.

I’m being crazy.

I have to tell myself that a couple more times in order to calm my heart rate enough to peel myself away from the wall. I break into a walk that probably looks much more like a sprint to the others on the street as I head towards Buddies’.