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“Oh?” She bends down to pull some lunch meat from the refrigerator and snatches a clean butter knife from the drying rack by the sink. “Where you off to?”
“Just…” I hesitate and tap a finger against the counter. “A family thing.”
She raises an inquisitive brow. “I was beginning to think you didn’t have one of those…”
“Yeah. Me, too.”
I look down at Sammy. He’s still on full alert, sitting directly between me and his master. I haven’t had blood on my hands for a while now, but this mutt can still smell it on me. Always has.
“Anyway, I don’t know how long I’ll be gone but I wanted to let you know.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Fox.” She handles the butter knife with more precision than you’d expect from her old, pale hands, an after effect of her years as a trauma nurse. It’s what I like most about her. She’s not at all squeamish and could easily handle herself it if weren’t for that hip. “I’ve got Sammy and Harvey to keep me company.”
“Right.” I flash a genuine smile. “Take care, Mrs. Clark.”
“You, too, kiddo.”
I rub my hands together as I make my way toward my car. The cold has lingered longer than necessary, teasing a spring just over the horizon. I look around, taking in my last lungful of Iowa farm air, memorizing the picturesque world around me. Big farmhouse, the guest cabin, even the old barn out across the field. I rub my hands together again. They always feel a little cold, at least… until the moments before a kill. Then, I have to submerge them in ice water to make them feel normal again. I feel that warmth now, reigniting a feeling in me I thought was lost.
I lower myself into my car and sit back against the seat. Here I am, doing the exact thing I told myself I would never do again. Not just for my own safety, but for my family’s as well. My mother. My stepfather. Dani. Each one of them will be in danger if I show my face again. Most of all, though, none of them will ever look at me again if they find out about the things I’ve done.
I pause with my fingers lingering above the ignition. I should stop now and go back inside. It’s not right to uproot them now. It’s been five years since I left home and two since I was “killed in action.” They’ve had a chance to mourn, a chance to get over it and move on without me. It wouldn’t be fair to them if I suddenly showed up again. And what would I say to them?
Sorry. I wasn’t really dead. I’ve been hiding out in Middle of Nowhere, Iowa in an old lady’s guest house. Pass the mashed potatoes, please.
But Dani is in danger.
Mercer will come back for her and when he does, he’ll put her through unbelievable torment just to get to me. I can’t ignore that in favor of living my lie a little bit longer.
I lick my lips and relish in the rush of memory tingling my senses. She tasted so sweet and warm back then, like freshly baked apples. A forbidden fruit I had no business plucking but I couldn’t help myself.
The girl down the hall.
