Unlovable

Chapter 29

Lily tried calling Darcie twice. She had a feeling there would be no answer, but she had to try.

Lily briefly entertained the idea of calling the police, but what could she possibly tell them?

I had a vision officer. I know she's in trouble. Lily was a lot of things, but she was no fool.

Instead, she picked up the phone and called Roger. Her grandson was completely in love with Darcie, protective and loyal. Lily knew that he would do anything in his power to keep her safe. The phone rang three times before he picked up.

"Hey Gram," Roger answered cheerfully. "Let me call you right back, I'm in line at the store."

"No time for that, Child. You have to hurry," Lily interrupted urgently. "You're the only one who can save her now."

Roger was standing in line, a single bottle of wine and a bouquet of yellow roses in his hand. His eyes darted from the cashier to the purchases he had to the conveyor belt, and then back to the cashier.

He was confused. Did someone here need his help?

"Who Gram?"

"Darcie. Hurry. He's there, Roger. I'm not thinking you have much time."

Roger's grip released on the bottle as her words took shape in his mind. The bottle fell to the ground with a shattering crash. He threw the bouquet on the belt and threw a hundred dollar bill at the cashier.

In mere seconds he was out the door, leaving a trail of baffled people behind him.

It took Roger ten minutes to get to the cabin. He surveyed the area carefully, noting that Darcie's car was still nestled in the brush. He also noticed the fresh tire marks that scraped the green from the grass, and the wide open front doorway. He ran inside, screaming her name.

Wishbone barked loudly from the kitchen. He walked in slowly and picked the small dog up in his arms. On the table lay a short note, and it took him a few moments to reach down and pick it up. When he finally did, he closed his eyes in an effort to calm himself before opening up and reading.

Dear Roger,

I can't live a lie anymore. I'm going home to my husband, the man I love. Even while we were together, I missed him dearly. Please, don't come after me. Take good care of Dodger.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Darcie Kincaid

Roger bit his bottom lip. She was clearly telling him with the fake name she used for the dog that she wasn't taken willingly- Just as she hadn't willingly written the letter. It meant she wanted him to come after her. Darcie needed him to save her. To fight for her.

Roger picked up a plate and threw it at the wall, angry at himself for being too late.

*~*~*