“Really?” As much as he tries to hide it, I still see the smug look that flashes behind his eyes. “Why?”
“A lot of reasons…”
Because then I would have to acknowledge a lot of other things Colson did that nobody knows about…
“I didn’t see him again after graduation,” I shrug, deciding it’s safer to remain vague, “Why not let sleeping dogs lie?”
Bowen seems to accept my reasoning. “I’m guessing breakups since then haven’t been that bad.”
I give a bitter chuckle, “What breakups?”
Bowen furrows his brow, “Really?”
I shake my head, “Nothing of any substance that would warrant a breakup.”
“Wow,” he marvels, staring into the fire, “so, you just like to love ‘em and leave ‘em.”
“Yeah, that’s me,” I scoff, “Barrett, my best friend, always tries to set me up with guys, but they’re more her type than mine.” I roll my eyes, “So, when it doesn’t work out, she just ends up dating them instead. But I appreciate the gesture.”
He peers at me with skepticism, “That’s pretty fucked up, wouldn’t you say?”
“Not really. You talk to people you’re drawn to, right? They were her type, anyway. I don’t know, sometimes I think I’m just not good at having a boyfriend.”
“Not if you keep dating your best friend’s next boyfriend,” Bowen laughs, “so, what is your type?”
I stare into the fire, considering his question, then finally, I lift my head to meet his eyes, “Stoic, brooding, bordering on surly...”
I can think of more adjectives—more specific characteristics—but I keep those tucked safely in the back of my mind.
Bowen studies me, “You have some darkness in you, huh?”
Shadows dance across his face and I can’t help but notice how his eyes look straight up menacing in the light of the fire, his hair casting a black shadow over his face as it swoops over one eyebrow. He looks beautifully terrifying.
“Alright,” I cross my arms, finished discussing Colson Lutz, “truth or dare?”
Bowen crushes his empty can in his fist and tosses it over the fire ring. It pings off the edge of the bucket and clatters to the bottom with the rest of the empty bottles and cans.
“Truth.”
“What’s something that’s happened to you?”
Bowen casts a sideways glance, “Nothing like that.”
“No bad breakups for you?”
“I guess I was like you. I made sure none of my extracurricular activities qualified for breakups. And the last relationship I was in ended pretty abruptly, so I don’t know if that one qualifies as a breakup, either.”
“What do you mean by abruptly?”
“For her, I guess,” he shrugs. “Ghosted might be a better term.”
“OK, forget relationships, what’s something else that’s happened to you?”
Bowen gazes up at the canopy until a smile starts creeping across his face, “Remember when I said that you never know what you’re going to find out in the middle of nowhere?”
“Yeah,” I nod, “what have you found in the middle of nowhere?”
“A couple years ago, I went out to this place about two hours east to do a job by myself. It was pretty remote and it was just supposed to be a property boundary survey. Normally, I don’t even see the owner, I just do the thing and send them the bill and the paperwork.” Bowen bows his head and stares over at me, “That was not what happened this time.”
A smile stretches across my face at his suspenseful introduction.
“I drive up and this guy comes outside. He’s big, just as tall as me and at least 350. He decides he’s going to walk with me and the whole time his dog is also following us—this big Catahoula that has his nose to the ground the whole time. It’s one thing to stand in the yard talking to someone, but no one wants to take a hike with me,” Bowen pauses, giving me a once-over, “except you.”
Suddenly, I wish he was sitting closer…like, in my chair with me.
“The property was at least 20 acres,” he continues, “and this guy’s not chatty, either. He’s quiet and keeps looking around like he’s expecting to see someone. Then, out of the blue, the dog bolts. The guy starts hollering, cussing, and carrying on, and I’m like, seriously, let the dog fucking go, because y’all are getting on my nerves! At that point, he starts asking me if I can just use the plat map from the county so we don’t have to waste each other’s time.”
“What’s a plat map?” I interject.
“It’s the diagram showing the boundaries of your property in relation to the ones nearby, but it doesn’t include buildings or any other features like fences. I’m like, dude, you have no idea how much I’d like to just write this whole thing off and get out of here, but that constitutes fraud. He’s getting more and more irate and still yelling for his dog, so I just keep an eye on him and keep going. After a while, I see the dog up ahead and it’s nosing and pawing at something on the ground, kicking up dirt and leaves. Then the wind picks up,” Bowen shoots me a dubious glance, “and oh my god, the smell was foul. I know what garbage smells like, I know what dead deer smell like, but this was on another level.”
My eyes widen with revulsion and, for a split second, I debate whether or not I want to know how his creepy story ends. But of course I do.
“He starts saying it’s just a dead animal, but when I get closer, I see the dog’s yanking on something. And then I see something that I can’t unsee.”
“Maybe it should’ve stayed unseen,” I mutter, pulling my jacket tighter around me.
Bowen casts me a sly grin, “You and your creepy ass are going to love this. The dog has hold of an arm.”
