just feel like I really need to talk to someone. The dreams are bad and I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to my sanity. Brianne said you might be able to work something out for me.”
“Brianne Davis?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Her heart thudded. And just like that, she had a last name.
“Are you having suicidal thoughts?”
“I . . . don’t know. I mean . . . sometimes I—”
“All right, we need to get you in immediately. I have access to the appointment book. Hold on just a moment, please. Let me see . . .” The keyboard clicked and Sarah ignored Gavin’s frown. Finally, the woman came back on the line. “Can you be there tomorrow morning at 10:45?”
“I—I can. Thanks. But I’m not—”
“Do you have someone you can stay with tonight?”
Guilt slammed her. “I do, but listen, I’m just really calling because it’s so hard to get an app—”
“If you get overwhelmed, please go to the emergency room or call 911.”
The concern in the woman’s voice touched her and she almost felt guilty for lying. Then realized she wasn’t completely lying. The bit about the dreams and holding on to her sanity was all truth. “I will.”
“Thank you for your service, Sarah.”
Her throat went tight. “You’re welcome,” she managed and hung up. She looked at Gavin. “Her last name is Davis.”
“What?”
“Brianne Davis.”
“You’re sure?”
“Pretty stinking sure.”
He nodded. “We’ll let Caden know. That’ll make his search go a little easier on his end.” He paused. Glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “You said you’re having a hard time holding on to your sanity. You’re not having suicidal thoughts, are you?” His voice was low and concerned.
She swallowed. “No, but . . . I can see why people who struggle with PTSD can be pushed over the edge to spiral into that pit.” She could feel his eyes on her. “I’m not there, Gavin, just saying I have an understanding of how it could happen.” Which made her wonder about Dustin. “I’m a reporter. An investigative reporter. I’ll do whatever it takes to find out about Dustin.” Whatever it takes.
He didn’t approve of her tactics. And she had to admit, she wasn’t real thrilled with them either—which was why she’d tried to backpedal a bit on the phone, but the truth was, she wasn’t completely sure she didn’t need to talk to someone. “She asked me that too and I hedged my answer. Then felt guilty. I did try to back up and say I wasn’t suicidal, but she cut me off.” And Sarah had gone with it. Maybe because deep down, she wanted the appointment for more reasons than she wanted to admit to. She glanced out the window, wishing she could turn off her thoughts, while noting the passing scenery for the first time. “Where are we going?”
“Thought we’d take a little drive.”
“What for?”
“You look tired, and the last time you fell asleep while I was driving, you didn’t have any dreams.”
He was right. Interesting. “So, you’re treating me like a toddler and driving me around until I fall asleep?”
A laugh slipped from him. “I hadn’t thought of it quite like that, but if the description fits . . .”
“Funny.” She took another look around. “It’s really peaceful out here, though, isn’t it?” A two-lane road with green trees lining either side. “Wait a minute, are we in North Carolina?”
“Close.”
“Okay, then.” She blinked, yawned, and refused to close her eyes. “What do your tats mean?”
He shot her a quick look. “Different things.”
“Like?”
“Nosey, aren’t you?”
She pursed her lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. I’ll have you know it’s considered a strength—an actual requirement—in my profession.”
“Hmm.”
“Hmm? What does that mean?”
He raised a brow. “Nothing.”
“Okay . . . so?”
“So what?”
She was going to hurt him. “Quit avoiding the question. The tattoos. What do they mean?”
“They mean different things. They represent different areas of my life.”
“And?”
A sigh slipped from him. “If I tell you my story, are you going to finish telling me yours?”
Ouch. “Um . . . touché.”
Another glance from him. “Okay, this one.” He pointed to the cross on his right bicep. He wore short sleeves even though fall was coming and the days were cooler. “I was in a really tough spot and thought I was dead. It was only by divine intervention that I’m not. When I start to question things like why I’m on this earth, I just look at that reminder and know that I’m here for a purpose.”
Chills danced