Page 112 of River Wild

Carrie

I can’t sleep. I’m all weirded out by River’s behavior earlier. And, honestly, I’m worried about him. I even tried calling his cell to check on him, but of course, he didn’t answer, and I didn’t bother to leave a message.

Plus, Olive doesn’t seem to be in the mood to sleep either. She’s restless. Constantly on the move tonight.

And, now, even I’m calling Olive a she now. It’s all River’s fault.

I’m just sitting on the sofa with Buddy lying fast asleep beside me, snoring. I’m staring at the TV without really watching it, my mind elsewhere—on River.

Not even the sight of David Boreanaz in the Buffy the Vampire Slayer rerun I’m watching can take my mind off of River.

It’s frustrating. And annoying.

I’m not even thinking about the fact that I have to be in the diner for the breakfast shift in six hours.

Sigh.

I hear the low roar of a car driving past my house.

River.

I clamber up off the sofa, and for the second time this evening, I’m looking out the window for him.

I see his truck pulling into his driveway and him climbing out and heading inside his house.

Well, he’s alive at least.

Although he might not be when I’m finished with him.

Usually, I never question River on anything to do with his life because I don’t want him prying into my life, but for some reason tonight, I’m sick of the secrets.

I want to know what happened in the store tonight.

I want to know why he dumped me off here and drove off like his ass was on fire.

I want to know where he’s been for all these hours.

And I want to know these things because I care about him.

I’m pulling my cardigan on over my pajama top and sliding my feet into my sneakers before I can change my mind about going over there.

“Back soon,” I tell Buddy when he lifts his head from the sofa to see where I’m going.

I let myself out of my front door and walk the short distance over to River’s house.

I don’t even bother to knock. I just walk straight in. I’m that fired up.

He’s not in the living room. I see the light on in the kitchen, so I head in there.

I see him standing at the sink, his back to me.

“You forget how to knock, Red?”

He heard me come in. Well, I wasn’t exactly being quiet.

“Oh, give me a break,” I fire back, in no mood to spar with him right now. “You never knock at my house anymore. You just walk straight in if the door’s unlocked. And, if you don’t want me coming in your house, then lock the fudging door.”

He glances back at me over his shoulder.