Page 65 of Still Missing You

“Something like that.”

He glances at me and frowns before turning his attention back to the road. “Where’s the other one?”

Irritation tightens the skin at the back of my neck. I know he means Hunter, just like I know Jim knows Hunter’s name. Jim believes we’re together, even if I’m not sure what we are to each other now.

“He went back to the inn.”

Jim chuckles. “Relationships. Never simple, huh?”

I shoot him a sharp look. He’s presuming an awful lot just from Hunter leaving the bar before me. “Why do you say that?”

“There was someone waiting for your guy at the inn, another man.”

Everything inside me goes cold. I know Hunter isn’t seeing anyone else. He told me so, and Hunter isn’t a liar, so who the hell would be waiting for him back at the inn? My mind jumps to the intruder in our room. My heart stutters.

“Who?” I ask.

Jim shrugs. “Don’t know. Said he was a friend.”

My heart rate kicks up, the fast, steady thud reverberating through my body. I fumble my phone out of my pocket. I should call Hunter, or text him, or something.

My thumb pauses over his number, but the words get stuck somewhere between my brain and my fingers. What do you say after a fight like that?

Sorry I spent half our lives not trusting you. Oh, and by the way, who is the guy waiting for you?

Yeah. That’ll go over well.

I glance out the window and frown. Dark farm fields stretch out on one side of the narrow road, thick forest rising up on the other side. Where the fuck are we? Jim seems to be skirting the edge of the town rather than driving straight through it.

I twist in my seat, watching him as he shifts gears.

That’s when I see it.

The watch.

At first, just a glint of metal peeking out from his sleeve and catching the dashboard light.

A familiar shape.

A familiar band.

My stomach drops. Holy shit. I lean slightly closer, pretending to adjust the vent, so I can get a better look. Silver casing. Black leather strap. But it’s the small scratch across the glass near the three o’clock mark.

The watch had been a birthday gift, and my parents had been pissed when I’d scratched the glass. My heart pounds.

I’d been wearing the watch the night I left town, and I’d been wearing it still when my car died on some back road and I had no idea where I was.

Ten years ago.

I swallow hard, my mind racing. The night comes back in fragments. The narrow road, winding between the trees. The cold rain soaked through me. My backpack straps digging into my shoulders.

I thought I would die of hypothermia... or drown. When the gray sedan emerged from the gloom, pulling up alongside me and the man inside offered me a ride, I’d been so relieved.

He got out of the car instead of unlocking the passenger door. I thought it was strange, but I still wasn’t worried. At least, not until the man pulled out a huge hunting knife.

He demanded my wallet, watch, and even my backpack, then tossed everything into the backseat of his car, never taking his eyes off me, never lowering his knife. I thought about trying to bolt. He was bigger than me, and he could probably overpower me if he got his hands on me. That knife was no joke, either. But I was younger than him and in better shape. I could probably outrun him.

The man reached behind him and opened the trunk, which I had just noticed was already a few inches open. He must have popped it before getting out of the car.