“What was Noah’s last name again?” I randomly blurt out, shaking my head. “You know, the kid I used to play with that lived next door?”
My mom sets her book down, giving me a weird look. “You mean, the Anders? Wejusttalked about them last night.”
“Right,” I brush her off, sweeping my own hair out of my face. “Sorry.”
“They’re long gone,” she replies, nothing giving in her voice.
I nod, and then exit her room, relieved that she didn’t protest me not hanging around. I would assume she doesn’t want me around anymore than I want to be here, but she can be difficult to read.
Maybe she’s just lonely.
Or maybe I should stop empathizing with someone who only convinced me to come home by reminding me of what I did.
I reach for the front door’s handle, and then tug it in, the early light of the day and cool breeze barging in. I take a step out, the faded wood groaning under my feet. The crisp air feels good in my lungs, but as soon as I suck it in, I freeze.
What the fuck? What. The. Fuck.
My eyes take in the sight of blood, streaked across the porch, as if something’s been dragged across it. It’s not a lot, but enough that I can’t ignore it. Carefully, I follow it to the far edge, and then stop, letting out the breath.
“Freaking Bullet,” I mutter, raking my hands through my hair. There lies a dead rabbit, its face crunched as though he used it as his own personal chew toy.
And as if right on cue, the beagle darts out from the bushes and up the steps, his tail wagging as he sees me.
“You’re demented,” I laugh, shaking my head and kneeling to pet the top of his head. “I don’t know why you have to be so cruel to the poor bunnies.”
And I swear, he smiles at me.
But as soon as I stand to my feet, aknockresounds through the morning air—the same kind of sound I heard yesterday afternoon.
Yeah, maybe I don’t need that walk.
Maybe I should skip it and just go to town.
6
NOAH
I saw what you did.Just tell me why, Rue. I don’t care if I have to stay here for the rest of my life. I’ll do it for you.
I can still see the same fucking sentence I scrawled in my letters, over and over again. I probably sounded like a lunatic for how many times I wrote her that sentence. She’s the only person who ever really loved me, and I’d continue to take the fall for her in a heartbeat…
If she’d just fucking talk to me.
I squeeze my eyes shut, my head feeling light from a lack of water. I roll my shoulders next, trying to work out the tension. I might only be thirty-four, but I might as well have the body of someone thirty years older than me at this point.
Prison does that to a person.
“Sammy!”a voice cuts right through my sleepy stupor, and I freeze, my eyes instantly opening wide. “Where are you? You silly little cat.”
There’s a cat in here.
My eyes peer to the edge of the loft, which still has a few rotten square bales of hay. I’m situated about fifteen feet fromthe ledge, keeping me out of sight, but still, the footsteps that I now hear loud and clear have my heart racing.
A heavy sigh follows. “I swear, if you’re up there sleeping in that nasty old hay, I’m going to have to call Benjamin to come and get you down.”
Hopefully Benjamin lives far enough away I can get the fuck out first.
“Sammy,” her voice carries. “I need to get to work, you little twat.”
