10 Years Later

by J. Sterling

  “You’re always working,” Kristy said with a mock pout.

  Dalton shrugged. “And you’re never working. Do you even have a job?” he shot back at my best friend, and I fought back a laugh.

  “I do not, as a matter of fact, because I’m spoiled and my parents said I don’t have to,” she said with a head nod, and Dalton nodded back.

  “Nice. Well, unlike you, I have to work.” He looked between the two of us as the silence stretched out.

  I shifted uncomfortably before practically stuttering, “Um, it was good to see you, Dalton, but we have to grab some salad dressing for my mom before she kills us.” I stared into his green eyes, the color of them fascinating me like they usually did.

  “Aisle eleven. See you girls later.”

  He turned to finish unpacking and stacking fresh produce as Kristy reached for a single piece of fruit. She peeled something from it, then gave Dalton a friendly pat on his back. He looked back at her and smiled, and she grinned at me as I squinted to see what the hell she’d done.

  When Dalton turned back to his work, on the back of his shirt was an oval sticker that simply proclaimed the word RIPE in all capital letters.

  As in well done.

  Ready for picking. And eating.

  And I couldn’t agree more.

  Dalton Thomas was as RIPE as they came, and I wanted a bite.

  • • •

  “Kristy, where is he? I know I keep asking the same question, but if something really did happen to him, how would I ever find out? It’s not like I’m his girlfriend or anything. No one in his life even knows I exist.” I threw my hands up in the air before running them through my hair. “No one would think to call me. What am I supposed to do?” Tears filled my eyes again and I hated myself for it, but not knowing Dalton was safe was driving me crazy.

  Kristy patted my head, smoothing my hair to relax me. “I don’t know where he is, but I’ll make some calls. I can check the local hospitals to make sure he hasn’t been admitted, and look online for news reports about incidents involving cops. I’ll try my best, okay?”

  I breathed out a small sigh of relief as I realized that wasn’t something I could even fathom handling right now. In a matter of hours, I’d been reduced to someone who could barely handle the idea of being left alone with all of these questions and no answers.

  “Did you take the pill the doctor gave you to help you sleep?” Kristy asked, her eyes fixed on the reality TV show playing.

  “Not yet. Should I?”

  “I think you should. It will stop your mind from racing and thinking all these crazy thoughts.”

  “They’re not crazy thoughts,” I said, wanting to argue with her, but then stopped myself. Grabbing my phone, I glanced at it again. Still nothing.

  So I typed out another text to him:

  Cammie: I really hope you’re okay. Please be okay.

  “If you don’t take it, I will,” she teased.

  “Oh, as if you need anything to help you sleep. You’re the most sound sleeper I’ve ever met in my life.”

  She smiled as if sleeping through everything was a superpower. “Isn’t it awesome?”

  “Not when I’m trying to wake you up,” I said, remembering all the times that Kristy simply refused to awaken from her Sleeping Beauty slumber when we were teens. I used to wonder how her alarm clock radio seemed to do the trick during the school week, but nothing else worked any other time. She claimed that her brain knew when she had to wake up and when she didn’t, but I think she was full of it.

  “I’ll go get you some water so you can take the pill. It will help.” She pushed up from the bed.

  “And you’ll make those calls?” I asked, wondering why she wasn’t already pounding away on her laptop.

  “I will once you’re asleep. If I start doing it now, you’ll stay awake pestering me,” she yelled from the kitchen, where I heard her rummaging through the fridge.

  She was right. And since I felt completely helpless, I decided that taking the sleeping pill was the best thing I could do to slow my brain down and attempt to give it some rest.

  As Kristy set a glass of water next to me, I swallowed the pill and hoped for a night filled with only pleasant dreams, if any.

  • • •

  When I woke up the next morning, I blinked my eyes once.

  Twice.

  Kristy was in bed next to me. Why was she here?

  Three times.

  Dalton.

  Four.

  Reaching for my cell phone on my nightstand, I snatched it up as if my very life depended on it. Swiping the screen turned it on, but revealed nothing. No missed calls. No new text messages. No news from Dalton.

  My heart sank as all the fears and questions from yesterday came rushing back with another blink. I focused on calming my breathing, shaking my head back and forth as if I could shake all the negative emotions out, when I noticed Kristy watching me.

  “Morning,” she said with a small smile. “How’d you sleep?”

  “Better than I should have,” I said while trying to fight back everything screaming to burst out of me.

  “Anything from Dalton?” She glanced at the phone that was still clutched tightly in my hand.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. What does that mean?”

  “I don’t know. I called around last night and I looked online, but I couldn’t find anything,” she said. “There has to be an explanation, Cammie.”

  “Yeah. You just don’t want to say it out loud.”

  “He’s not fucking dead,” she said tersely. “So stop jumping to the worst-case scenario.”

  “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “Because, damn it. I refuse to believe that this kind of thing could happen to you again. I won’t accept it. I won’t.” Kristy’s eyes glistened with tears, telling me she was fighting her own fears and doubts. “So there’s some kind of explanation about where he is and where he’s been. Okay?” She swiped at her eyes, her expression pleading with me to be strong.

  “I really wish I could believe that.” I sank back into the covers and called Dalton’s phone. Straight to voice mail again.

  “Well, start believing,” she insisted.

  “I want to. I really do. I hate sitting here doing nothing,” I said with a groan. “Not knowing is what’s truly driving me insane.”

  She rolled her eyes at me and huffed. “I’m aware of exactly what’s driving you insane.”

  “Then tell me you’ve thought of something that we could do? I can’t spend another day not knowing where he is. This is ridiculous,” I whined.

  “Call his cell again,” she demanded.

  “Already did. Straight to voice mail.”

  “Where the fuck is he?” she shouted at the ceiling in frustration, and I started to laugh. Kristy narrowed her glare at me. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

  “It’s just that I’m the one who should be angry, not you,” I said, still smiling.

  “Do you want to get out of here? Go see a movie or something?” She moved to sit up in bed. “Something to distract us from all of this?”

  Her suggestion made my stomach turn. The idea of not being home didn’t interest me. Even though I knew that no one would come knocking on my door to tell me what had happened to Dalton, I didn’t want to rule out the possibility completely. If someone came while I was gone, I’d never forgive myself.

  I let out a sigh. “Movies sound great. But let’s do a rental, so we don’t have to actually leave the house.”

  Kristy let out an annoyed groan. “Ugh. Fine. Just another Saturday with Cammie. Can we at least move from the bedroom into the living room? I can’t stay in bed all day.” She gave me a wry look. “At least, not with you.”

  “I don’t want to stay in bed with you either.” I stuck out my tongue before tossing back the covers and hopping out.

  “Good. We’re out of wine, so I’ll go to the store. And I’ll grab some pizza. You might not be able to stomach
eating, but I’m starving.” She stretched her arms above her head before lowering to the floor for some yoga poses.

  “I’ll take a shower and pick the movies,” I offered.

  “Perfect.”

  I heard the front door shut as I turned on the water for my shower. For the first time since Dalton had disappeared, I was alone. Reaching for my cell, I dialed his number again. Straight to voice mail. Dialing it again and hoping for a different response, I almost felt hopeful when it took a second longer for his voice mail to kick on than it had before.

  Next I opened the text message screen, and was shocked by the number of messages I had sent him. I winced when I scrolled through them, because with no response from him, the text window looked embarrassingly like a stalker’s. I knew I was acting like a crazy person, but all logic and restraint had flown the coop the second he didn’t show up for our date. Resisting the urge to send Dalton another text, I closed the text window.

  After my shower, I dressed comfortably in a pair of yoga pants and a loose-fitting shirt. I grabbed a few extra blankets from my linen closet and headed toward the couch, where I tossed them for me and Kristy to use during the movies.

  My mind wouldn’t stop racing, running the gamut of emotions from fear to anger and back again. I was thankful for the distraction when Kristy finally came back, her arms filled with groceries and a giant pizza box.

  “Are we feeding the whole complex?” I teased.

  “I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying. So I got lots of stuff just in case, you ungrateful little—” She stopped herself. “Did you pick a movie?”

  “I picked four.”

  “Awesome.” She set the pizza on the counter and pulled three bottles of wine from one of the bags. I grabbed plates and wineglasses while Kristy continued to unpack and stock my fridge and cupboards with Lord only knew what.

  She glanced at me. “I got garlic knots too. Because, well, I think this weekend calls for carbs and butter.”

  I knew better than to argue with Kristy, and to be honest, I didn’t want to. Eventually I needed to eat, even if I didn’t feel hungry.

  • • •

  We spent the day lost in movies that made us feel good about love. I tried to believe in the stories the way they intended for the audience to believe, but it was hard. Certain scenes triggered my worry, bringing me right back into the present, and I had to excuse myself more than once to escape to the bathroom in some attempt to pull myself together.

  Happily-ever-after seemed to be something that eluded me, and I wondered if it always would. I knew I was feeling overly cynical, my guts knotted with apprehension and concern for Dalton. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t coming unraveled with each hour that passed with no word from him, but that was all I was doing—pretending. Kristy and I both knew it, but we avoided talking about it, knowing that addressing it wouldn’t change the situation.

  It was so frustrating, knowing that no matter what I said or did, I couldn’t change things. I was helpless, stuck in the dark, waiting for answers. Answers that might never come. Answers that I might not want to hear. Having absolutely no control was a horribly discouraging feeling.

  After the fourth movie ended, I yawned and stretched my hands above my head.

  “Do you think you can sleep?” Kristy asked, and I nodded as I wiped at my tired eyes. “Good. You go and I’ll clean up.”

  I looked around at our mess from the day. Dirty dishes, empty wine bottles, and balled-up napkins littered the coffee table. “Are you sure?” I asked, feeling guilty.

  “It’s no big deal. Go. I got this.” She waved me off as I trudged down the hall to my bedroom.

  A knock on my door a little while later startled me awake. I glanced at the red numbers on my clock that told me it was 12:11 a.m., and wondered who could be at my door this late. Flashbacks of two police officers waiting for me to pull open the door popped into my head as I slipped out of bed quietly. Kristy lay curled next to me, her body lost in a sea of bedcovers.

  Another swift knock rattled the door, ratcheting up my nerves. Peeking through the peephole, I recognized Dalton’s silhouette, and I threw the door open to reveal one seriously stressed-out man. Thanking God he was safe, I felt my heart simultaneously leap into my throat and drop to the floor.

  “You’re alive,” I said softly, my emotions a mixture of shock, happiness, and confusion as I took in his face, covered with scruff from days of not shaving.

  “I’m so sorry, Cammie—” he started to say, but I cut him off.

  “I’m so glad you’re not dead!” I launched myself into his arms and buried my face in his chest as the stress of the past thirty hours ravaged me, and tears fell.

  Not How It’s Going to End

  Dalton

  Cammie’s body shook in my arms, her back hitching with each sob. Her tears soaked through my plain white T-shirt, and I couldn’t have cared less. “I thought something terrible happened to you,” she tried to say between sobs, and the words stabbed me straight in the heart.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I put you through that.” Holding her close, I stroked her hair and kissed the top of her head, not wanting to let her go.

  “I’m so happy to see that you’re okay. Really, I am. But I’m not.” She pulled away from me as tears spilled down her beautiful cheeks, and I had never felt so small before now. “I’m not okay. I haven’t been since Friday, Dalton. Where have you been?”

  Knowing that I was the cause of Cammie’s tears gutted me. I never wanted to hurt her, and seeing her like this was unsettling, to say the least. “Can we please talk?” I practically begged as she moved to walk down her hallway and into the living room. I peeked in her bedroom as we passed, noticing a body next to the space where Cammie’s covers had been pulled back.

  “Is Kristy here?”

  “Of course she’s here.”

  Cammie was shaky as she sat on the couch, flipped on a light, and pulled her knees up to her chest, watching my every move. She grabbed a loose blanket and tucked it around her body as I moved to sit next to her, giving her some personal space, but not too much.

  I reached out to her, moving some of the dampened hair that was stuck to her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, grateful that she let me touch her at all. “I’m so sorry for everything. I can’t tell you that enough.” She swallowed, her facial expression hard to read, so I dove right into my explanation, realizing that I’d royally screwed things up between us. “I’ve been in New York since Friday. I didn’t have my phone with me, and I didn’t have your number memorized.”

  Her head tilted as she processed my words. “What? New York?”

  I could see so many emotions racing through her eyes. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d put her through these past couple of days, but I hated myself for every minute I was away and couldn’t contact her.

  “Friday morning I got a call from my informant that our perp was at the docks. My partner and I went there, but it was wrong. It all felt wrong. It was a setup, but we realized it too late.” A slight gasp escaped her perfect lips, but I continued. “It wasn’t a setup for us; it was a setup for my informant. He gave us information and when we showed up, it only confirmed that he was a rat. My partner and I raced to meet the head of the case, where our entire West Coast squad got loaded onto a plane and flown to New York without any notice. Two of our informants, mine included, were missing. They’re still missing, actually. The whole case was in jeopardy.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t have my phone because Tucker drove that morning. He’s my partner.” I paused, my head shaking as I bridled my annoyance. “He never drives. Ever. My personal cell was in my car, and I didn’t make it back there until tonight. I just landed and the battery was dead. I drove straight here.”

  I waited for the relief to flood her eyes, but it never came. “You believe me, don’t you?” I asked, wondering if she thought I might be lying to her, something I’d never do.

  Her sad eyes loo
ked through me as she nodded halfheartedly. “I believe you.”

  “Then what is it? I’ve missed you so much. I knew you had to be freaking out, and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t call you. I didn’t know Kristy’s number, or your mom’s. I didn’t have any way to get a hold of you, and by the time we landed in New York, I was losing my fucking mind over it.” As I admitted all of this to her, I clenched and released my fists over and over again.

  Cammie gave me a dejected look. “Same here. Except I pretty much thought you were dead and that no one would ever tell me because no one knew about me.” More tears spilled down her cheeks, each one gutting me more than the last. “There was a part of me that honestly thought I’d never see you again.”

  Nothing made me feel smaller than the pain I caused this woman. I felt like less of a man for it, and wished more than anything that I could go back and change it. But I couldn’t.

  “Please don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart.” I punched at my chest. “I came back as soon as I could. My whole squad’s still in the city. I flew home tonight because I couldn’t wait another day to see you, and I knew you’d be worried. I just didn’t realize how much. I’m such an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  She sucked in a long breath and wiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I had a panic attack on Friday when you didn’t show up to the restaurant.”

  My jaw dropped slightly as she recounted what had happened that evening, her voice growing more despondent with each minute that passed. It tore me apart to hear what she’d gone through, even more so knowing it was all because of me.

  “I’ve never had a panic attack before in my life,” she said. “I thought I was dying. I made Kristy take me to the hospital because I was convinced I was having a heart attack.”

  I pressed my palms to my eyes and rubbed. Tired of telling her how sorry I was, I didn’t know what the hell else to say to fix this. And it needed to be fixed because she wasn’t okay; that much I knew.

  Cammie looked up at me, her eyes huge and glistening with tears. “I can’t do this. I can’t go through this with you, Dalton.”