“What do you think we’re going to be able to resolve with a discussion?” I ask him. My eyes dart around the porch, searching for a way to defend myself.
His jaw clenches. “I don’t know what you’re trying to do here—biking around, holing up in this shack, but it’s stupid. And you know it.” He smirks. “You think my guy didn’t find out where you were and check on you and tell me what you’ve been doing?”
Ice runs through my bones. Of course he knew.
“I’m sure this whole shack in the woods thing is getting old for you.” He quirks an eyebrow, but I don’t respond. “I know what we do, Honey. We fight, you tell me we’re over, you leave, and you wait for me to come back groveling. Okay, then. I’m groveling. It’s time to come home.” He leans back, his eyes deceptively sincere—another show. Trey is incapable of heartfelt warmth or sincerity. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. You’ve proven your point. I miss you, Honey. We just need to get back to how we were. You remember how good we were together, don’t you?” His eyes sear into mine, trying to burn me into thinking he’s being honest. Or maybe he sincerely believes we’re good together because dysfunctional is all he knows.
“I know you want to bully me into playing nice and going back to California with you,” I tell him. “You want me to pretend we’re a couple, so that you don’t have to realize that you are, in fact, a horrible person. But I’m not going.” I stand, and he pushes me toward the chair again, but this time so hard that Istumble, hit my head against the wall, then crumple into the chair. I clamp my lips closed to suppress a whimper.
“I came all the way here.” He bites out each word. “Is it so hard for you to shut up and listen? Is that so much to ask?”
Maybe if I listen, he’ll go. Maybe if I just…no, don’t be stupid.He won’t ever, ever, ever, ever go without you.
“I’ll make this simple for you. I’m going to give you two options. Again. This time, choose the correct one. You can either go back home with me.Oryou could disappear here in Heaven somewhere, sadly, and nobody would know what happened to you. There’s a lot of forest out there.” He waves a hand toward the forest.
I stare at him, ice sliding up my backbone. “You’re not a killer, Trey. You’re just a a bully. You bully anyone who doesn’t love you.”
“Nobody knows who you are here. You’re not using your real name. They’d simply think that tiny Wren flapped her little wings and flew back home, wherever that was.”
I need to shut up. I need to say something that will calm him down, make him leave.
He’s not going to leave without me. He’s not going to leave without me.
“Take the right damn option this time, Honey.” His expression is gentle, his eyes oozing compassion. “Stop punishing yourself here. We’re meant to be together.”
“I need my dog. I have to make arrangements for him. Buy a kennel, book a flight, that kind of stuff. Then I’ll join you.”
“You’re going home with me. Now. And we’re not bringing a dog because I hate dogs.”
“But… you do all those Humane Society ads. You’re like their ambassador.” It slips out even though it’s a waste of words. Everything Trey does is fake.
“It’s just bullshit my PR person makes me do.”
Monster is no longer barking on the other side of the door. He’s given up, and just at the same time, I feel myself giving up as well. Trey and I are going to play out this incident over and over again until I’m dead. Maybe he wouldn’t murder me, but he would kill me nevertheless.
“Okay,” I tell him.
“Okay.” He holds a hand out for me to take. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“No. I choose option two. Death. Again.”
He stares at me, his expression changing from placid to enraged, quicker than you can say ‘kill me and bury me in the forest.’
I hear a loud ripping sound. It takes me a moment to realize what it is. “You might want to run. I mean, like now,” I tell Trey.
He sneers. “What are you talking about?”
“That’s Monster, my dog. He’s pushing through the screen of the back porch. Good luck when he gets out. Because you may hate him, but he’ll hate you more.”
He stands, his face taut, staring at the side of the cottage. He picks up a chair and holds it in front of him. He’s not watching me now, but there’s no possible way I can make it past Trey into the front door. Instead, I bolt toward the stairs and leap—a perfect leap until Trey throws the chair at me.
Pain envelopes me. I can hear Monster growling and running toward us before I thud to the ground, my head slamming onto the corner of the step. A curtain of black sweeps over me, and I realize that this may be how I will finally get rid of Trey. Option two, death.
21
FOX
I reachWren just as she’s crumpling to the ground. “Wren?” I bend down and push the hair from her eyes, but her eyes are closed.
