Chapter Thirty-Nine

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I had conjured up just about a million different places to look for her, but for some reason, my mind kept dragging me back to the idea that she was in the woods right behind her house. The overwhelming feeling of being watched hadn't ended at the woods; it had followed me home, followed me into my bed, and followed me into my restless slumber.

Whatever Henry had involved her in was deep, that much I knew. Paranoia hung around every corner, willing me to stay away yet drawing me closer nonetheless. I needed to find her, make sure she was safe and sound. Though somewhere deep in my heart, I knew she was safe. She hadn't been harmed yet, a part of me knew that if something had happened to her, if she was no longer with me, I'd know. I'd feel it.

Somehow, I had let my thoughts consume me to the point of no return as I stared, once again, into the thick trees behind her house. I didn't remember getting in my car, I didn't remember the drive there, and I didn't remember taking the gun out of the car, or slinging the carrying strap over my shoulder.

But I did know that Henry had kept dirty little secrets from her, and as a result, had hurt her. Not only had he kept secrets from her, but he had forced me to keep his secrets from her as well. In some ways, I felt responsible for her absence. Had I spoke up sooner, would she had still gone missing?

Wind whipped against my face, my hair swirling around similar to the way my mind had been for the past few days, reminding me that this was real life. This wasn't a sick nightmare about my best friend going missing; it was real. All too fucking real.

My eyes wearily scanned over the ominous forest as the sun steadily set behind me, casting ghastly shadows over the tree-line, spilling into the thick of the forest.

And all at once, I saw and heard them.

A dull yellow-orange sweatshirt peeking from the brush.

"We have to end this, Tim! Stop being ignorant about this!"

I was well aware that he had mentioned another name, meaning that he definitely wasn't alone, but had I really cared at that point? Not even in the slightest.

Who would be looming around the house of a woman who had just gone missing, especially in the woods behind said woman's home, if they weren't involved?

My legs pushed themselves into overdrive as I broke out into a sprint towards the sweatshirt-clad man, and as I barreled ever closer to him, another man came into sight; donning a creepily feminine mask and tan-brown jacket, it looked as if he had been arguing with the other man.

But I didn't care to listen in on a lover's quarrel; I wanted my fucking friend back.

I had hushed my steps to barely a whisper when I finally approached the tree-line, my gun that once swung freely at my side now cocked and aimed, more than ready to be fired.

I locked my sight in on the two men, trying to decide which one appeared more dangerous, which one I'd have to take out first. I didn't want to bother with questioning them, finding out if they were involved or not; I had heard her name mentioned more than once, though the context I hadn't been able to make out. And that was enough for me.

And suddenly, both of them froze in their place. Unprompted, as I had made sure to account for my footing; I hadn't stepped on any twigs or branches, hadn't crunched a pebble under my foot, I hadn't even shifted a fucking leaf out of place.

Their silence and unwillingness to move was becoming eerie; something inside told me that they just knew. In the same way that I had been able to sense eyes on me from outside the forest that day, I knew they probably felt it now.

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