Chapter Sixteen
BRIGGS
I pace the length ofthe kitchen for the five thousandth time. The silence is thick, and I hate the unease that settles over me.
Being alone was never something I was great at. With my daughter at a baseball game out of town and my father off to a specialist in Kelowna I haven’t been able to settle at all.
Cold coffee sits on the table, jewelry supplies strewn from one end of the kitchen to the other. I really do need a studio, or something. The wind chimes tinkle happily on the porch and I watch the trees sway on the edge of the property. I check my phone six times to see if Jet had any updates on Millie but still nothing. Just a steady stream of notifications from Instagram where my customer base was getting increasingly impatient.
There’s no chance I’m going to be able to focus on the handful of pieces I designed and I’m back to scrolling social media, feeling resentful and tethered to this stupid device and the approval of strangers. I slam it down on the counter.
Tiredness creeps into my limbs and fog settles over my mind. With a deep sigh I head upstairs and flop into bed, a sunbeam from the open blinds lays across me like a blanket. I stare at the colorful wallpaper until everything blurs and dims and wraps me up in dreamless sleep.
#
Abang startled me from sleep, my first instinct to reach for Millie, but she isn’t there. I’m not in the motorhome. Millie isn’t home.
Groggy fear hits me as soon as I jump up and immediately, I’m dizzy and disoriented.
Bang.
I fight the nauseous feeling that stirs in my belly and try to lasso my thoughts. Thoughts of him. Of if he found me.
Bang. Bang.
I press my back to the wall and try to peek out the window. Memories flood me of a similar experience when the window to my motorhome was smashed in late one night. A rock painted with a skull thrown clean through. My back to the wall clutching the axe I used to chop kindling for fires. Banging on the metal walls. Millie finally stirring and me putting my finger to my lips. Her wide eyes trusting me to protect her. To keep her safe.
Part of me is glad she wasn’t here today.
How did he find me? How does he keep finding me?
I reach for my phone but it’s downstairs.
Bang Bang Bang.
Someone’s trying to get in.
I slink downstairs, staying close to the wall, grabbing Dad’s walking cane as I moved through the living room to the kitchen where my phone was still lying on the counter.
Bang.
Bang.
I jump, swiping my phone to unlock it when a figure appears in the doorway.
Before I can stop myself, I scream.
“Briggs?” Xan’s voice cuts through my panic and I drop my phone, shattering the glass to bits. He’s through the door and has me tight to his chest before the cane hits the ground and I heave deep breaths trying to steady my shaking body.
“It’s just me. It’s just me.” He hugs me tight and I let my arms go around his waist, pressing my cheek to his chest until my breath reaches sync with his.
“Jesus Christ, Briggs. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says holding me back at arm’s length. “I knocked, no one answered. I figured I’d get some work done.”
I notice him fully now. Sweat touching his brow and soaking the collar of his shirt. A belt strapped to his waist with a hammer and pocket full of nails.
Embarrassment washes through me in an instant and I turn away, busying myself picking up the pieces of my phone.
“I was sleeping. I heard banging. It startled me, that’s all.”