Feeling a rush of nervous energy as I sit in the old, worn-out driver's seat of my truck. What I see of her is different from what I have seen on my phone. I sneakily pull out my phone and take a new, updated picture of her with the lens clicking away. I admire her so much that I almost forget where I am. I am brought back to reality by a mental warning, which forces me to break out of the trance.
With a strong will, I start the old truck's engine, which makes a loud noise, and quickly drive off, leaving a cloud of dust behind. In the quiet lobby of the hotel, where no one else is around, my thoughts are louder than the footsteps as I think about how uneasy I feel. "Why am I freezing up? This isn't like me," I ponder. I carefully plan my steps as I dash through the lobby to get to my hotel room.
When you are inside, the air is heavy with thought. The soft lighting in the room makes the inner turmoil I am feeling stand out even more. As I am thinking, my phone keeps ringing, interrupting me. "Raven" is shown on the caller ID. When you answer, I sigh, and our conversation takes place against the background of a faraway city.
The speaker hears Raven's voice, which is a mix of worry and longing. "Hey, how are you?"
"I'm good; what about you?" I reply.
In the quiet spaces between our words, emotions linger like unspoken secrets. I step into our shared reality and ask about Taylor, our daughter. The simple words that were said hide deeper feelings that are not visible.
The unspoken lingers as Raven questions, "So when are you coming home?" I hesitate before revealing the truth. "I found out more information; I'm staying here longer than expected."
The silence between us is heavy with fears and expectations that we have not talked about or met. I can tell Raven's voice is shaking as she reluctantly accepts my truth.
"It's okay," she utters, a fragile acceptance of circumstances.
I seek to console her, "The faster I get answers, the sooner I come home to both of you."
But the emotional distance manifests in the silence that follows. Raven, unable to hide her vulnerability, whispers, "I want to be supportive, but it's hard, Leon."
In my attempts to bridge the emotional gap, I suggest, "It wouldn't be if you find something you like to do with your time."
A poignant "Like what?" hangs in the air, a plea for guidance in a sea of uncertainty. I respond with a gentle encouragement, "That's up to you; you need something just for you."
When our talk is over, there is a bittersweet feeling that stays with me. I am declaring my love, which is a lifeline that goes across the miles. Raven responds with a voice that sounds like it is filled with both love and resignation. There are a lot of different feelings going through my mind as the call ends. I walked over to the edge of the hotel bed and laid down. For a moment, the mattress felt good. Even when I close my eyes, Greyson's words about her instability keep coming back to me. I give in to my tiredness and fall into a restless sleep. When I wake up, I will be ready to face the web of truths that is falling apart around me.
In my dreams, I am lying in bed next to my wife Raven. As I lean in to kiss her, the air is filled with our shared warmth. In the dreamy dance of affection, she turns to me and returns the love. As the dream enters a beautiful moment, a sudden feeling on my back wakes me up to the real world. A phantom arm finds its place on my back, and another woman materializes beside me. For some reason, Amelia's presence makes the dream seem even stranger. In the dream, Raven and Amelia shower me with kisses, creating desires and emotions. The air is thick with tension that is not being said, and soft touches explore uncharted territory. A high-pitched ringing sound breaks up the dreamy world just as it reaches a romantic peak. The phone rings through the dreamlike fog, a wakeful intruder. Instantly, the dream ends, and the sudden change from the fantastical to the real leaves me feeling lost.
The loud ringing of my phone wakes me up from my dream all of a sudden. The cold glow from the device shines on Chief Raymond's name, making the feelings from the broken dream stay with you. As I answer the phone, I reluctantly look away from the vivid images of the strange adventure I had with Raven and Amelia and toward the harsh reality of the phone screen.
Beneath the comforter, I become aware of an inconvenient stiffness, a physical manifestation of the dream's abrupt end. "Dammit," I mutter to myself, my annoyance palpable.
My voice, tinged with irritation, cuts through the line. "What do you want?"
Raymond, seemingly oblivious to the abrupt intrusion, responds in a chipper tone. "Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed."
"I was on the right one, but you put me on the wrong one," I retort.
Chief Raymond is looking for information about his daughter, which makes things more tense.
"I'm calling for updates on my daughter," Raymond says.
I, standing my ground, deliver the news with a matter-of-fact tone. "Well, I've found her."
When the news comes out, it surprises Chief Raymond, who gets very angry.
"YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME?" he shouts.
Unyielding, I defend my decision. "No, actually, because everyone told me something new. Until I get to the bottom of this, I'm not doing a damn thing."
Raymond, feeling the weight of his power, lashes out with a reminder of how our lives are linked.
"Leon, I'm the one who put you on this damn case, and this is how you do me. Your ass would be nothing without me; you would be rotting in jail. Is that what you want to do?"
Now glimpsing a different facet of Chief Raymond's character, I respond with a disappointed intensity. "Nice to see your truth, Raymond."
Unable to endure the relentless barrage of calls, I silence my phone, cutting off Chief Raymond's attempts to reach me. As I try to deal with the case's complexity and my own desires, the constant flashing of the chief's contact ID serves as a visual reminder of the growing tension between duty and personal resolve.
I think about my choices, knowing that the straightforward but heartless option is one of them. However, that isn't my style. I care about people, and I know that Amelia, the poor girl, has already been through a lot. I get up and grab a notebook and pen because I am ready to go in a different direction. I make up a new identity on purpose, which makes me become a fictional version of myself. I write about a man named Leon who is 32 years old, has lived in Murfreesboro, TN his whole life, is single, loves working out, and has a soft spot for kids. Using my connections to the town to make up a character that might appeal to Amelia because of her past.
Because I know how important my mission is, I know I need to go above and beyond what is expected of me in my job. It is not just about breaking into the daycare; I also get involved in Amelia's life and make up a story that might make her trust me. With an unwavering declaration to myself, I whisper, "I am coming for you, Amelia."
The next day comes around, and I get ready for my volunteer shift at the daycare. Because I care about how I look, I worked hard to put on a convincing front. I go to the parking lot with my scripted role ready to go after getting breakfast in the hotel lobby. I find my way through the streets, park my car on the curb, and walk up to my new business, the daycare. As I walk toward the door, I carry not only a made-up identity, but also a promise to play a part in Amelia's life that sets the stage for the unusual path I have chosen to take.
YOU ARE READING
The Hunt
FanfictionIt's too easy to say read it and you'll find out...but I'll give you a taste A bounty hunter came from being a dealer and he became bored with the fact he had it all; a good job, a wife and kid, a big house, and a nice car. He was living the dream t...
