Page 64 of Still Missing You

The server approaches cautiously, all her bounce from earlier replaced with unease. “You need a box for that?”

I glance down at the untouched plate.

“No,” I say quietly. “I’m good.”

She nods and takes mine and Hunter’s plates away without another word.

I sit there a few minutes longer, staring at the empty space where the food used to be while I wait for the bill, letting it settle. Hunter’s gone, and this time, I might have pushed him too far to come back.

The server returns with the check, and I pay, including a good tip to make up for the awkwardness. Once she’s gone, I force myself to stand.

The bar feels even louder now, the noise grating against my nerves. I pull on my coat and step outside into the cold night air.

The parking lot is half empty, snow crunching under my boots as I cross to the truck. For a moment I just stand there, staring at it. I still have Hunter’s keys. Did he walk?

The thought makes my stomach twist. His knee was already irritating him. Walking across town in this cold wouldn’t help.

That’s Hunter, of course. He needs space, so he takes it, even if he won’t be able to walk tomorrow.

With a sigh, I unlock the truck and slide into the driver’s seat. The silence inside the vehicle feels heavier than the noise in the bar did, and I do my best not to think about how awkward it will be back at the inn together.

“You really screwed this up,” I mutter to myself, inserting the key into the ignition. I turn it, but the engine sputters before going silent.

“What the hell?” I frown and try again. The starter clicks uselessly.

I lean back against the seat, staring up at the dark ceiling of the truck. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Of course this would happen tonight. Honestly, the way my luck is running. I don’t know how I haven’t been struck by lightning or swallowed by a previously invisible fissure in the Earth. Because apparently the universe has decided I haven’t suffered quite enough humiliation yet.

I sit there for another minute, considering my options. Walking back to the inn is doable, but it’s a long way, and the temperature has dropped considerably since the sun went down. Is there a ride share in a town this small?

Before I can check, headlights sweep across the lot. A familiar truck pulls into a space a few spots away. Jim climbs out, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he spots me.

“Oh, hey,” he calls. “Everything alright?”

I crack the door, since the power windows aren’t working. “Truck won’t start.”

Jim strolls closer, concern creasing his weathered face. “Battery?”

I shrug. “Seems like it.”

The truth is, I have no idea. I’ve never been especially mechanical.

“I have jumper cables back at the inn. I can go back, get them, then bring them back and give you a jump. Want a lift?”

Normally, I’d hesitate. I don’t know, Jim. Technically, he’s a suspect in Matthew’s disappearance. Admittedly, an unlikely one. But, tonight, I’m too tired to care.

Besides, this is Hunter’s truck. I should probably let him know what’s happening. I consider calling him or sending a text, but I’m not convinced he’ll answer.

“That’d be great,” I tell Jim.

“Hop in.”

I climb down from the driver’s seat, close the door and lock it before following Jim over to his truck. The heater blasts warm air the moment we climb inside, the dashboard lights casting a soft glow across the cab.

Once I’m buckled into the passenger seat, Jim pulls out of the parking lot, tires crunching over frozen gravel.

“Tough night?” he asks casually.