If I didn't find someone suitable by the end of the week, I was going to have to seriously consider selling the house. The dog was doing fine coming to work with me part of the day, and Barrett would be here soon to take on some of the workload, but the house was too much.
Some people might say I should quit being Sheriff instead. I hadn't wanted the job, that was true. I still wasn't sure that I wanted it. But there was a part of me that felt more fulfilled and I had in a long time. If I could just figure out the nightmares, then I'd be set.
They had gotten a little better over the last week. I used to stay up half the night, and then once I fell asleep, I had nightmares for the second half.
But now that I was sheriff, they had tapered off. Was it the exhaustion? Was it having a purpose again, and not dwelling on the past? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to be the asshole that ran from my problems. But I also didn’t want to borrow trouble either.
If overworking myself kept them at bay, then I’d take it.
These days, I didn’t have to overthink my bedtime. I didn’t dread it in the same way. I knew I’d go to sleep.
The nightmares weren’t certain now. I could go three, sometimes even four nights without one.
That day, I spent the morning at the school district volunteering with kids, and in the afternoon, I helped the fire chief clear some debris from a barn that had burned. One of his firefighters had a new baby and was out on paternity leave. So I stepped in. The hard physical labor definitely wore me out. I still worked out and kept myself in shape, but I wasn't as fit as I was during my SEAL days.
That night I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
Screaming. Ashes. Fire. I was standing with the fire chief in the burned-out husk of the barn. But instead of burned-out ceiling beams, all I could see was a pile of bodies.
I woke up screaming. I sat up and rubbed my face.
Bile rose in my throat but I didn't vomit. Somehow in my dream, the past had gotten mixed up with the present. It must have been the smell of the charred wood from the barn that set me off. I liked to pretend that I could keep my military service in a neat box, but obviously it had found a way to creep into my dreams and mix in with my current day.
Once my heart stopped pounding I went into the bathroom to rinse my face off with cold water. I reached for a hand towel but there wasn't one there. Right. I hadn't done laundry all week. I hadn't been home long enough to even start the washer. I really had to find someone to help. I knew that anyone in my family would try to force me to work fewer hours. They'd say I was just running from my memories, working myself into the ground until I passed out.
But at least I was doing something worthwhile with my time. No one could argue with that.
Chapter Five
Ava
I drove without stopping for hours. Several times I almost had to pull over because I was breathing so hard I hyperventilated. I turned the radio up really loud, and tried to drown out the sound of my own thundering heartbeat.
Before I knew it, I'd nearly reached the northern border of Arkansas. While I was still in Missouri, I slowed down and decided to take the next exit, wherever that might lead.
When I ran away, I'd only had my real clothes with me and not my street clothes. If I put on my designer outfits here, I was going to stick out like a sore thumb. I had a feeling that my street clothes would be taking it a little too far -- I wanted to blend in, not be memorable. A girl with an addiction problem might not stand out in Chicago, but it probably would in the small towns that dotted the road here.
I reached a small town called Pine Hills. At that point the adrenaline from leaving behind the only life I’d ever known, and being terrified I’d be murdered by my own father’s business partners had faded enough that I couldn't stay awake anymore.
I pulled into a very dingy motel and slept for eight