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Telling him came naturally. I’d never see him again, so why not?
“Then how do you know what he did to her? That he killed her or raped her?”
“Letters. It was there, hidden in the words.”
The letters, of course. He’d never quite said it, just implied, twisting the facts, twisting me on a line, for years. Having a hook in you that long hurt, scarred.
“Well, now. You have led a curious life. Is that where you got the antique knife?”
My heart stopped, then restarted, chugged onward.
He couldn’t have seen. I hadn’t taken my eyes off the bag at the stop.
“Sorry. What with the gun, I looked when you talked to the waitress. You’re well-armed.”
Was that even possible?
It wasn’t, surely? He’d have to be a fucking magician.
Not good. Not good.The thought thumped out in time with the shaking of the car.
The ominous and increasingly personal tone of Harry’s questions...was it just my imagination? I was about to snuggle my hand under the flap of the backpack, and onto the gun’s butt when my phone sang its tune. Could Chester have something already? I dragged my phone from the side pocket and tapped through. The caller was unknown. Without taking my eyes off Harry, I answered.
“Yes?”
It’s me.
I recognized his voice instantly.Val.
Don’t say anything out loud, but I’m following you. My lights are currently off.
The shadowy car I’d glanced at in the rear view was his? He had followed me? Finally, my anxiety had a target.
“You’re like a bad penny.” Hissed while I eyed Harry.
You know what you’re like? You’re like that woman being followed by a car that flashes its high beam at her. You’ve heard the myth—he chases her, she thinks the driver is after her, but in reality he’s trying to warn her about a killer in her backseat.
My throat seized even though I knew he had to be fucking with me. Besides, I wasn’t alone. Harry was here.
When the light flashes across, between the trees, I see a blackness that rises, like fucking tentacles or something—
Anger freed my voice. “Suck. My. Dick.”
You’re all balls when you walk and talk darlin’, but you forget my hand’s been between your legs—
The word bastard formed in my mouth.
—Now pay attention, he’s slowing.Harry? He was.
Fear scurried. The car-shaking rhythm changed words toOh crap. Oh crap.
I’m right behind you.
I cut Val off—I needed to think. Just think.
Was the Ruger still in the pack? Or had Harry removed it?
He couldn’t have. He’d made that up. He might’ve glimpsed the revolver but how could he have seen the knife or even looked?
