Page 62 of In Every Lifetime
The sheriff nodded, his face filled with compassion. “I promise you, while we may be a small force in a small town, we won’t let someone come in here and hurt anyone. It’s not just our department looking into this, but every member of the community. You will be safe, Mr. Acharya.”
“It’s not me I’m worried about. I couldn’t give a rat’s ass if I was safe or not. It’s her,” I explained, pointing over my shoulder to where Sarah stood, smiling and laughing with the receptionist.
“Do you have a reason to believe Ms. Martin—specifically—is in danger?” the sheriff asked, scribbling notes down quickly.
I nodded. “Her file was twice the size of anyone else’s. The fact that that psychopath even knows her is enough to make me worried.”
The file.
“Oh my God,” I mumbled and leaned forward, my hands grasping the edge of the desk. “Radio or call your officers or whatever it is you do. Tell them to look under the rug beneath the desk. I threw her file under there.”
The sheriff didn’t ask questions; he just pulled out his radio and called in, relaying the instructions. In my rush not to be caught in the office, I had stuffed the file under the rug. I hadn’t had a definitive reason; I simply didn't want Gabriel to have any access to Sarah in any capacity. Even a file was too close for my comfort.
The guilt I felt knowing I had put her in this situation was overwhelming, but I didn’t have the time to wallow in self-pity. I first needed to ensure she was safe.
“Boss,” a crackling voice sounded over the radio, “it’s here. Under the rug in the office. Just like you said.”
The sheriff breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank God. Photograph and fingerprint it. I’ll drive down to give it a look.” He turned back to me, letting go of the radio. “Smart thinking, hiding it.”
Sarah walked back into the office. I could see her wavering with each step. Exhaustion clung to her in every movement—the slow drag of her feet, the faint tremor in her hands, the way her eyes struggled to stay focused, as if she had nothing left to give but was pushing forward anyway.
“Will is sending a plane. It should be here within the hour,” she explained, collapsing into the chair next to me before turning to the sheriff. “Can you arrange a ride for us to the airstrip?”
He nodded and looked between us, confused. “How did you get a plane out here that fast?”
Sarah snickered. I was curious to see if she would explain that her best friend was a billionaire, but I wasn't shocked when she simply shrugged. “He’s well-connected.”
The sheriff nodded slowly. He was accepting her answer, not prying, but I could see the curiosity burning deep. He excused himself to arrange a ride for us and a way to get the truck I had technically stolen back to its rightful property. Luckily for us, the owners weren’t upset. After the sheriff explained the situation, they brushed off my petty theft as a necessary evil.
“What did you tell Will?” I asked quietly.
“Nothing. Jackie picked up,” Sarah explained. “I kept things rather… surface-level. I don’t know, this just feels like a conversation to have in person, you know?”
“What do we tell them?” I asked, leaning back into the chair. My whole body ached, right along with my soul, as I wondered what was to come next.
“The truth.”
I swallowed a lump in my throat, my voice growing quiet. “The whole truth?”
Sarah sighed. She didn’t need me to elaborate, understanding my meaning immediately. After being together for over a decade, words weren’t always necessary for communication. “Not about us… that was a…”
She trailed off and looked at me expectantly. She wanted me to complete the sentence, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t a mistake—but it shouldn’t have happened either. I mean… I had quite literally slept with my ex-wife in the middle of nowhere while my psycho fake brother stalked us, wanting God knows what.
I sighed and took her hand in mine, squeezing softly. I didn’t have an answer for her today; I may never have one.
She squeezed back, a breath softly spilling past her lips. She still didn’t need my words. Sarah understood me better than anyone else—better than I understood myself.
