AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Wait,” he says, breaking off the kiss with an effort. “You had something to tell me, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, and you rudely interrupted,” I tease, both of us laughing because it’s all in good fun. “I guess that’s a theme with us, being interrupted.”
He chuckles. “It’s starting to feel that way. So you better tell me what you were going to say before a tree falls on the car or a snowman comes to life and starts attacking us.”
“What?” I giggle.
He smirks. “Well, who knows what the world’s gonna throw at us this time?”
I lean back, as though I’m getting ready to throw the car door open and sprint away.
Part of me wants to just keep it a secret, but surely it’s going to come out later down the road, especially now that I know he feels the same as me.
“Markus, I’m a—”
I cut off, drawing in a shuddering breath.
This is harder than I thought it’d be.
“What, Millie?” he urges. “You can tell me anything.”
I blurt it out, quickly, before my nerve deserts me.
“I’m a virgin.”Chapter ThirteenMarkusFate really must be messing with us because the second those words come out of her mouth, her cellphone starts to blare.
She sighs and snatches it out of her pocket, glances at the screen, and then shoots me a look of apology.
“It’s my boss, I’ve got to take it,” she says.
I nod shortly, finding it difficult to form words.
It’s easier to just look at her, hair tied back in a ponytail, looking fierce and beautiful and maternal all at once. Her body is a downright meal in that waitress’s uniform, her curves imprisoned, begging to be set free and worshiped … with my hand, my tongue, the engorged head of my manhood.
Everything, I’ll give her everything.
“What?” she snaps. “No … I didn’t. Garry, listen to me, why the heck would I do that? Yeah, I’m on my way now.”
“What is it?” I ask.
She tightens her hand around her cellphone so hard her knuckles turn white and then begins to shake, a scream starting quietly and then reaching a crescendo when she finally lets it out.
“Ah,” she snaps, thumping the dashboard.
“Millie, what’s wrong?” I say, catching her hand before she can hit it again and hurt herself.
“That mother-” she whispers, shaking her head and staring into the woods.
I’m a virgin.
Her words bounce around my mind, but yet again an interruption makes it impossible for us to explore right away. I’m starting to think somebody up there is having one hell of a laugh at our expense.
“We need to get into town,” she says.
I guide the car onto the road, driving as quickly as I can while still being safe.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” I ask.
“You’ll see in a second,” she sighs. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
She won’t look at me, I note, and I wonder if that has anything to do with whatever’s happened at work or her revelation before the phone call. She gnaws at her thumbnail, adding to the shift in her scent, the change in the quality of light in her eyes … all the thousand things that make her her twisting with anxiety and something else, a notion of fear beneath it all.
“I’ll protect you,” I tell her.
She glances at me, briefly, but then turns away as though the eye contact is painful. “Thank you,” she says. “But I’m not sure you can, not from this.”
I drive us through town, getting closer to the diner.
A crowd is gathered in the parking lot, the cars pulled up at unnatural angles, as though arranged around a crime scene. It’s like I can hear the increase in Millie’s heartbeat the closer we come to the gathering, synchronized with the way she taps her knee with her free hand, the one that’s not cradled close to her face.
“Okay, this is it,” she sighs. “My big freaking moment.”
“I’m right behind you,” I tell her.
We step from the car together, several of the townspeople turning to glance at Millie as she approaches. A couple of women turn their noses up at her, and I see one elderly man turn and whisper something in a sailor’s ear.
A hush falls over the crowd when we get to the front, looking down at the display.
Shattered glass, but much more than was in Jackie’s house. There’s more then one window worth of it sprinkled over the parking lot like grit, with the snow swept away to make room for it. The glass has been covered in red spray paint, outlining the words that it spells.
Millie Green, the paint-covered glass reads.
I glance over at the diner, confirming my suspicions.
All the windows have been shattered, scraped free of their glass. He must’ve done it in the middle of the night.
This bastard is obsessed.
A man comes walking over. He’s got a mop of gray hair with a bald spot in the middle, and he grunts and grumbles as he walks, leaning on a cane that’s constantly trying to slip out from underneath him. He has the mean sort of eyes I recognize from wannabe tough guys over the years.
