In Strange Woods - Claire Cray Page 0,47

and disappeared. Or at the very least, he should have stayed close to Hunter.

“James…”

James straightened up. “Just take me to my car.”

“Right,” Isaac said helplessly. “Okay. Let’s go.”

They got back in the car silently. Isaac looked pale and hurt, his grip tight on the steering wheel. James thought he saw him brush a tear from his eye.

“Turn right on State Street,” James muttered. “Just drive down around the bay and up Bay Road.”

They made it halfway way to Spruce before Isaac spoke again. “What was all that about, back there?” he asked quietly. “The room key and the note. And what did that guy call you in the store?”

“Nothing.” James stared out the passenger window. “Forget it.”

“I’m sorry,” Isaac said after another couple of miles, letting out a breath. “Not just about Domino. When I saw the stuff about your family, and I thought about it getting out…I knew you’d be upset, but I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Appreciate it,” James said dully.

Another mile slipped by before Isaac said, “I really have been worried about you, James. I’ve never seen someone just…devastated like this. Right in front of me.”

“God, how traumatic for you,” James said mockingly. “I’m sorry you’ve been having such a hard time.”

Isaac let out a tense sigh and fell silent.

James glared out the window, his arms crossed. Up ahead he saw the blue post marking Hunter’s driveway. But he didn’t want Isaac knowing where Hunter lived, so he waited a few moments before telling him to stop the car.

“Here?” Isaac tapped the brakes, but looked at him in confusion. “James, there’s nothing here.”

“I know where I am. Stop the car.”

Isaac let out an incredulous breath of laughter. “I’m absolutely not leaving you—”

“Stop the fucking car!” James exploded, unfastening his seatbelt.

Isaac cursed as he pulled halfway onto the narrow shoulder and hit his hazard lights. James jumped out before the car was fully stopped and yanked the back door open, grabbing his backpack and his duffle.

“James. Stop for a second.” Isaac was rounding the car now, pleading with him. “This isn’t safe. You’re acting fucking crazy. I can’t just let you—”

“Fuck off!” James reeled on him in a fury. “This is my problem, not yours. It’s my family that was fucking murdered. It’s my family on TV every fucking night. It’s my family about to be ripped apart by some fucking production team—”

“I won’t let them do that,” Isaac cut in, and then took a sharp breath like he’d startled himself.

James’s blood went frigid. He stared at Isaac, frozen in place, remembering the red folder.

For Internal Team ONLY

His duffle slid off of his arm, thumping onto the ground.

“Listen,” Isaac said weakly. “It’s actually not what it sounds like. It’s not just true crime. It’s way more thoughtful than that. Beautifully respectful. Seriously, if you just…”

“My god,” James muttered.

“Look, I had the same reaction as you when they brought it to me.” Isaac’s expression turned desperate. “But when I thought about someone else handling your story, I just…”

“You’re directing it,” James said roughly, fury slowly rising as he realized Isaac had gone straight from sucking him off to capitalizing on the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“That’s why I came here,” Isaac said weakly. “We’re scouting the area. Everything about Grace, and Ruth, too, it’s obviously part of the…the story.”

“Fuck you,” James spat with a sudden flare of rage, shoving him with both hands. “You parasite!”

“It’s not going to be what you think,” Isaac protested, holding up his hands. “I have full control of the narrative. I know it’ll be hard, but—” he stumbled as James shoved him aside to stalk back to the car. “James, come on!”

“Get back in your car.” James snatched the red folder off of the passenger seat and slammed the door shut, then headed back to his bags. “Port Orton’s twenty minutes up the road.”

“Wait.” Isaac looked very pale, his eyes hanging on the red folder. “You can’t take that.”

“Stop me, you fucking coward.” Turning his back on Isaac’s entreaties, James once again walked into the darkness along River Road.

Chapter 20: Runaway Blues

It was one of those freak November nights when the temperature was just right to sit outside and enjoy the chill without freezing your ass off. Hunter sipped a beer on the top step of the deck, hoping the cold breeze would do him good. It helped, but didn’t stop him from wishing he could go back to the Sea Witch and toss that swanky bimbo over