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Caaareful, her instincts whispered.
Garret had been over there, and then in a flash he’d appeared over here, blocking the door.
He lifted his chin higher into the air and looked down his nose at her. “You won’t see him for some time. He needs to…heal.”
“Why can’t I see him?” she whispered.
“Why do you ask so many questions?” There was a grit to his voice that said he was growing angry. Again.
“Why do you answer questions in a way that creates more questions?”
“Think of Roy as dead until I tell you otherwise,” Garret said.
Eliza balled her fists at her side with the urge to hit him. “How dare you say that. Roy is my father. I have every right to tend to him. I have every right to see him.”
Garret leaned forward, and his eyes flashed brighter. “Eliza, was it? You have no rights here.”
“Yes, my name is Eliza, and how dare you act like you don’t remember me, Garret Shaw. Our mothers swapped a thousand stories at that table over there. Just because you’ve moved the table doesn’t mean the memories cease to exist. Roy fixed that window over there when your father was in town for months, too drunk to return and help your mother out,” she said, jamming her finger at the replaced windowpane. “You and I played all over every inch of this house!” She stomped her heel onto the wooden floor. “I want to see Roy.”
The sound of cracking knuckles echoed through the silence of the room as Garret glared at her. “Do you have no sense of self-preservation?” he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
“I want to go home,” she ground out, clenching her shaking fists.
The corners of his eyes tightened. “Unfortunately for me, you are home.”
She didn’t understand what that meant, but she didn’t care to engage in this pointless conversation any longer. Garret was angry and cold now. She just wanted to see Roy, so she did an about-face and marched toward the back door.
Garret appeared in front of the door again, and she yelped and backed away. Something wasn’t right. No man could be that fast!
“What are you?” she demanded in a shaking voice.
“I’m your shot at survival out here,” he growled.
“I don’t…” She shook her head and backed away from Garret. She glanced at Cookie and Lenny, but both of them were staring at Garret like he was a short fuse on a stick of dynamite.
“What is happening here?” she whispered.
Garret just shook his head. His eyes were blindingly blue.
“Please,” she whispered. “I just want to go home.”
“The Roy you know has died, and his home ain’t your home anymore.”
Lenny jumped up from her seat. She stabbed an accusing finger at Garret and yelled a string of unintelligible words. Before Eliza even understood what was happening, Lenny had grabbed her wrist in an iron grip and dragged her around Garret, shoved him hard in the side to move him, and dragged Eliza out of the house.
“What did he mean?” she forced out past tightening vocal cords as Lenny dragged her toward the barn. “Lenny?”
Lenny didn’t stop or even slow.
“Lenny?”
Her grip was painful on Eliza’s wrist, and she only released her when they were inside the barn. Lenny slammed the door closed hard enough to rattle the place, and then paced back and forth under the hay loft, chattering to herself in a language Eliza didn’t recognize.
“Why did he say the Roy I know is dead?” she asked.
Lenny kept pacing, but she wasn’t talking to herself anymore. Now, she was glancing at Eliza with a thoughtful expression. She gestured to the corner of the barn, where a huge, iron-barred cage stood. There was nothing inside, but when Eliza meandered toward it, there were fresh streaks of blood that hadn’t even dried yet.
“Why is there blood?” she asked, panicking.
