Page 59 of Best Laid Plans

Dinner passed in a blur. I barely touched my food. Diego's jokes couldn't pierce the fog of anxiety that had settled over me, and Anson's attempts at conversation only grated on my nerves.

"Don't you like your fish?" Anson asked, his face too close to me.

"It's fine. I'm just not hungry." I looked pointedly at my watch. "I'll leave you guys to finish dinner. I have to run."

Literally, run.

I needed to get the fuck out of Sentinel and now.

Diego was about to say something, but Anson cut in. "I understand. I'll walk you out."

"Not needed."

"I'll walk you out," he repeated.

I gave up and said goodbye to Diego.

"I want to talk to you," Anson told me as we strode together to my car.

"About the project?" I asked pointedly.

"No," he said softly.

I could put two and two together. He and Pete had a falling out because Anson had realized that I was telling the truth about what happened to me that night. But I couldn't bear to hear his apologies. "Then no." I beeped open my car, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. "I need to…I need to go, Anson."

"Nova, just—"

"No." I let him see how broken I felt, how tired I was. "Please. I can't, Anson. I just can't. I'm…exhausted."

He closed his eyes as if looking at me hurt. "I know. But we have to—"

"You know what, Anson, let's make this easy. Let's pretend you apologized, and I accepted your apology."

"I can't apologize for what happened to you, Nova, because I don't deserve forgiveness for it," he whispered, pain etched on his face.

"I can't do this."

Without waiting for a response, I got into my car and drove away, the tears blurring my vision. The small town of Sentinel and its relentless gossip had finally proven too much.

My emotions churned like a storm inside me. I took deep breaths, trying to calm my racing heart, but the suffocating memories of gossip and judgment clung to me.

Just as I found some emotional stability, red and blue lights flared in my rearview mirror, my heart sank. It was the sheriff's car. I pulled over to the side of the road, my hands trembling as I gripped the steering wheel. A familiar dread settled over me, one that I hadn't felt in years.

I picked up my phone and turned the recorder on, put it face down on the passenger seat.

The sheriff's car door opened, and out stepped Pete Fontaine. My pulse quickened, and fear gripped me like a vise. The memories of that night came rushing back, and I could feel my breath coming in shallow gasps.

It's not the time for a panic attack, Nova. Breathe in, breathe out. You've done nothing wrong.

Pete made a motion for me to roll down my window. I did as he asked.

"Sheriff," I said as coolly as I could, though I was shaking inside.

"Nova. License and registration."

I gave him what he asked for and waited. He looked through, using a flashlight, and handed them back to me. "Where have you been?"

He knew damn well where she'd been. "At Larue Homes."

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