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“Tomorrow,” Will said again, just to be sure.

“Tomorrow,” Itori said.

Will gave him a wave, and then almost laughed at Itori’s attempt to copy him.

He turned and started back down the road despite the pull he felt in the center of his chest. The one that wanted him to damn the cold and wet, and throw himself back into the water and into Itori’s arms.

But that would be crazy. They’d just met. Itori wasn’t even human, and he certainly wasn’t the cure to the ache that lived inside Will.

Will forced himself not to turn back to see if Itori was still there as he left. He instead marched, one step after the other, back to his trailer.

Chapter 7

When Will got to work the next morning, there were a dozen large trucks in the grocery parking lot. Cones had been placed around them to block the area off, and Adrián was talking to a group of men in suits.

“What’s up with the parking lot?” Will asked Becky when they unlocked the doors and took their places up front.

“They’re paying Adrián to park there. I think they’re gonna try and drain the water,” she said, snapping her gum.

Will’s heart dropped.

“Drain it? But it’s a spring.”

She shrugged, turning to pluck a gossip magazine off the register. “I guess they’ve gotta try.” She huffed a laugh as she opened the magazine. “Doubt it’ll work. They haven’t been able to plug a spring ‘round here yet.”

In the afternoon, two more diggers showed up with a huge truck filled with sand. Will was at the register when two suits came into the store.

“Hotter than shit,” one suit said, wiping his sweaty forehead on a handkerchief. The man was already red from the sun, and Will knew that kind of thing would blister quick if he didn’t cover up.

“And smells worse,” the other said. “Can’t believe they live out here in the fuckin’ swamp. You been by the trailer parks? Real depressing shit.”

“Haven’t. Trying not to lose another pair of loafers to the mud.”

They both chuckled at that, passing by Becky and Will as if they didn’t exist. They went to the cooler where Adrián kept cool drinks. Both grabbed beers.

Will’s gaze went to Becky. She was looking at him, her mouth pressed into a tight line of irritation.

“...can’t wait to get this back on track and get on a plane back to Boston.”

“Same. Finally wash all the stench off,” the other man said as they came back to the checkout.

The suit met Becky’s eyes as he put both beers on the belt. “Just these, sweetheart.”

“Little early for drinkin’,” Becky said, voice filled with saccharine sweetness.

“Not early enough when you gotta deal with these beaners,” one of the men said with a nod out the front doors.

Will could see Becky’s jaw tighten, but she started ringing their drinks up. “Well bless your heart for getting through it. ID?”

“Seriously?” The man gruffed.

“It’s the law,” Becky said with a radiant smile. It was her eat shit and die smile.

The man begrudgingly dug out his wallet and handed over his ID. “Uh huh.”

“Fred Walter,” Becky read off it. “You’re a long way from Boston.” She handed it back and gave them the total.

“Won’t be here much longer, thankfully,” he said as he peeled out a crisp twenty from the wallet. It forced Becky to make a lot of change, and he stood there the entire time with his hand out waiting for it.