Burying Water (Burying Water #1)(104)

With one last glance at her, I dive into my car.

A blurry kaleidoscope of blue and red lights races past me about twenty seconds after I pull onto the main road. “You can survive this, Alex,” I whisper. “You’re strong.”

I’ll take whatever’s coming to me, but only if she survives.

“Your language skills aren’t too bad after all.” My hand runs through my damp hair. The small hot-water tank went cold long before I got out and now I’m sitting on my bed, shivering.

I hear a soft “f*ck” slip through Boone’s lips. “Bad?”

“Yeah.” I don’t want to say much more over the phone. “I’m going to stick around here for the weekend. I’ll be back for work on Monday.” It’s the last place I want to be, but I need to face whatever’s coming to me. Me suddenly disappearing will only raise suspicions. “I don’t know what he knows.”

“I’ll keep an ear out. Take it easy. And I’m sorry. I could see how much . . .” He drifts off, probably as paranoid as I am right now.

I hear his unspoken words. “Yeah. I did. Thanks, Boone. For tonight.” If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t called me . . . she’d already be dead. “Watch yourself, too.”

I hang up with Boone and am left sitting on my bed, wearing only a towel, staring at hands that were covered in Alex’s blood only hours ago, my stomach a mess of nerves. I followed my dad’s instructions, stripping off my clothes and bagging everything, and then wiping up the small pool of blood in my backseat. Now all I’m left with is time. Time to play out how different things could be for her right now. I can’t be blamed for pulling over to help a woman out with her flat tire. That choice was a good one, an innocent one. But every choice I made after that . . . I could have told her that her muffler was damaged and walked out of that customer lounge. I could have parked my ass on the couch and watched baseball instead of going to The Cellar that second night. I could have said no to the Barracuda that Viktor dangled in front of me. I could have left her to Triple-A when her gas ran out. I could have not given her my number; I could have not gone to the hotel . . .

So many choices, and I kept picking the wrong one. All because I let a faceless girl kiss me on the side of the road.

Then again, maybe it never really mattered, what I did or what choices I made. Maybe the truth is that we were meant to find each other. A simple truth that would have kept finding its way to us, no matter which path I tried to turn down.

No matter how deep I buried the feelings she sparked within me with one damn kiss.

If you wait long enough, the truth always finds its way. Just like that stream. Just like water.

Alex is my truth.

I toss a few logs into the woodstove and then fall into the pillows still scattered around it, watching the flames devour the wood. Trying desperately to remember all the things she wanted to do to this place to make it her home.

She would have been so happy here.

“Jesse!”

My dad is crouching beside me. In the window beyond him, I see stars sparkling in the black Oregon skies. Nothing but glowing embers remains behind the glass in front of me. I’ve been staring at the woodstove all this time and I didn’t notice the fire go out.

“How is she?” My jaw hurts from clenching my teeth the entire day.

Silence hangs through the air, and I hold my breath against the answer I expect to hear.

“She’s still alive. I don’t know for how long. I don’t know how, but—”

Air sails from my lungs. “Can I go see her?”

“No, Jesse.” He shakes his head to emphasize his point. It’s an old habit of his, and that’s when I know it’s serious. “She’s still in the OR. Your mother’s doing everything she can.”

Jesus. My own mother is operating on her. “Does Mom know?”

“All she knows right now is that it’s an attempted murder investigation and it needs to be kept confidential. I’ll have to tell her sooner or later, though. Especially if Alex survives. Your mother’s met her. She knows what she looks like.” He adds softly, “What she looked like.”

“What do we do now?”

He stands, and begins pacing around the room. Another Sheriff Welles tic. “We get rid of everything. Your clothes, the blanket, all traces from your car.”

“Bleach?”

“No, we need something with oxygen. Luckily your mother has an affinity for stocking hydrogen peroxide. We have a few bottles.” I guess there’s a benefit to having a sheriff for a father. Especially one intent on discrediting CSI. “And then you’re going to tell me everything, Jesse. From beginning to end. Every last detail. No lies. I need to know that I went against everything I stand for for a good enough reason.”

I nod solemnly. “Thanks, Dad.”

The muscles in his jaw tighten. “If she dies, he’ll get away with it. By moving her, we’ve lost evidence. The case has lost credibility. You will be the prime suspect if there are any links at all.”

My forehead falls into my hand. “I know. I just . . . I saw her and I couldn’t think straight. I still can’t. I just want to hide her from him.”

“Do you know how lucky you are that you were never booked and fingerprinted with that whole Tommy mess? If you had been, Crane would already be busting down the door.”