life was more important than fulfilling a duty I didn’t feel cut out to perform. Maybe I didn’t have to feel so guilty about not finding the meaning I’d expected social work to provide? Maybe doing what I enjoyed would still help make a difference in the world?
I juggled gears and came out of my seat. Jonah had, of course, incorporated some of the hillier sections of road around Bootleg Springs. I kept an eye on my heart rate and my speed.
But my mind was racing with all the ways I could thread Jonah’s insight into my paper. I couldn’t wait to talk to him about it.
That wasn’t something new. I looked forward to my time with him every day. I liked watching him cook. Enjoyed playing with Billy Ray in the yard.
He’d accidentally built a life, and I was part of it.
Could I continue to be part of it?
If Jonah was staying, could I stay, too?
The hair on my arms stood up. I needed to look into universities and nonprofits within driving distance. If Jonah was staying. If I was staying. If we wanted a future together… Well, it was a lot of ifs. But they excited me rather than terrified me.
Headlights caught me from behind, and I moved to hug the edge of the road. I was a mile out of town on Mountain Road where there was road, guardrail, and then nothing but a steep drop.
I’d gotten more confident biking with traffic. But dusk had fallen, and the car wasn’t making any attempt to pass me. I could feel it inching closer and closer.
Maybe the driver didn’t feel safe passing me on such a twisty stretch of road. I let off the brake and folded over the handlebars.
Immediately, I picked up speed. So did the car.
I broke out of the turn, pedaling like hell toward the lights of town. Something felt wrong. And yet oh so familiar.
I wanted to twist in my seat, to look behind me. But I couldn’t do that without falling and probably breaking my neck. The tiny mirror on my handlebars did nothing but reflect headlights. The road was flattening, my speed dropping.
The angle of the headlights changed.
“Oh, thank God,” I whispered. The car was going to pass me.
But it didn’t. It pulled alongside me. An older sedan. Gray or dark blue. I couldn’t tell in the dark. The front wheel was missing the hubcap. I couldn’t see the driver. But they were riding the double yellow line keeping pace with me.
Did I know them? Was this just a joke?
But nothing about this felt funny.
I needed to get into town. Needed to be around people. Witnesses.
The car swerved into my lane and then back again. Too close for comfort. This wasn’t a joke. I wasn’t overthinking. I was in danger.
I shifted gears again and focused on form. I didn’t need to see the heart rate readout on my watch to know it was stratospheric.
The car slid toward me again, claiming the lane, but there were streetlights now. People ahead. I heard music coming from the park. I ignored my instinct to turn down an alley and try to get away from the car. I needed to lure them closer. Into the light and buzz of town. I needed to see who was behind the wheel.
One block and the car slowed, sliding in behind me again. I pedaled like mad, bursting onto Main Street across from the park. There was a band in the gazebo. A summer night concert I realized. The town square was crawling with people, and I felt tears of relief prick at my eyes.
I chanced a glance over my shoulder. But the car was gone.
I didn’t feel any safer.
Jumping off my bike, I pushed it over the curb and into the park, joining the throng of summertimers and residents. But someone was out there in the night. And I felt them watching me.
45
Jonah
“Hey, honey. How was your ride?” I asked, answering the phone on the first ring. Gibson and I had just stopped wedding trellis construction for a root beer break. He’d magically reemerged from his self-imposed exile and demanded I drop everything to help with the woodworking project.
It hadn’t exactly been a fun evening with Gibson’s black mood hanging like a toxic fog between us. But I was here for it. As a good brother would be.
He’d never been the happy-go-lucky type, but I’d also never seen him quite this broody before. Something was going on, but I hadn’t