Page 114 of Unstoppable Love

To go back to that home. My house, that Jimmy had somehow entered—the back door, I figured since he’d been able to get out of it so quickly. Stupid. I was so freaking stupid to not have more security. If I had…

“How’s Cam?” I croaked. “Has anyone heard? Or told him?”

“He called them when he couldn’t get through to you. Said he’d tried calling you first, and his parents called us, so they’re worried. We didn’t… we didn’t tell them anything. Figured that was for you to say and everything.”

“Okay.” My chin shook. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Tonight. Said he wasn’t staying there another night, so he’ll be here tonight. He’s flying in, private, but I don’t know when that’ll be.”

That was closer. Only a half hour away in the next county. “I don’t know if I can see him,” I whispered to my mom. “Not like this.”

I hadn’t asked about Jimmy to see if they’d found him. I hadn’t wanted to know if he was still out there somewhere, hiding, probably in someone’s field or something, because he couldn’t have gotten far. Not with how quickly the police showed up to my house.

Thank God for Isaiah.

“You’ll see him when you’re ready,” my mom said and kissed my forehead. “In the meantime, I think we should head home, okay?”

“That sounds good to me.” Doctor Macon stood in the doorway, a kind woman older than my mom. “I have all your discharge paperwork here and two prescriptions. One for pain if you need it, and one for sleep if you need that, too.” She came to me and grabbed the chair on the other side of the bed. We’d already talked about trauma and a therapist, and the importance of seeing someone if I needed it—someone who’d understand.

“Thank you,” I told her, and the doctor’s eyes fell to my throat as I swallowed.

“Take the pain meds. Cool drinks and ice cream and popsicles will help for your throat, okay? Smoothies, too, but be gentle on yourself for a few days, for as long as you need. And if you decide you need to talk to someone, I have that information in this packet too, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary.” The doctor stood, gave a few instructions to my mom, and a few minutes later, I was in the back of my dad’s truck, his white-knuckled grip the only visual sign he’d shown me about how angry he was.

He didn’t speak until I was in their house, wrapped in blankets on their couch with a hot fudge sundae in one hand and my spoon in the other.

The ice cream was cold and painful on my throat. The hot fudge was soothing.

My dad sat down on the coffee table in front of me. “Isaiah told me they caught him a bit ago.”

My eyes burned, and I couldn’t reach my dad’s gaze. I focused on the large picture window and the apple tree I’d climbed since I was a child, its dead leaves blanketing the floor beneath. “Good.”

“Whenever you’re ready, Isaiah will give you an update on what will happen next, but you need to be aware that Jimmy will have a court date set soon, and there’s the possibility he might make parole.”

“Jimmy makes parole, and half the town might shoot him when he leaves the courthouse,” I muttered, and god, I hated the tone in my voice, the thoughts racing through my mind. The fact I’d been so stupid to not turn a light on right away. If I’d stayed at the Kelleys, this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d gone home, this wouldn’t have happened. If I’d let Isaiah stay with me, this definitely wouldn’t have happened. If I hadn’t been with Cameron, Jimmy might not have done this. It all happened because I was stupid.

Naïve.

A fool.

“I’d be first in line,” my dad said, and my gaze whipped to him. “No father, no decent man would blame me, either. And I’m so thankful Isaiah was able to stop it.. before…” My dad choked on his words and swallowed.

I blinked back tears.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I told him, and I set the ice cream on the table. Food wouldn’t help.

Nothing would.

Not right then.

Maybe not ever.

Chapter 32

Cameron

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