Page 18 of Such Sharp Teeth

“Her dad died,” Ash says.

“Could have led with that. Now I feel like an asshole,” Scarlett says, looking guilty for approximately two seconds before popping another strawberry into her mouth.

“Look who it is!”

Seth has appeared, and his presence has stirred Luca, who is now windmilling his arms as he runs laps around his dad. Yelling, of course. Always yelling.

“Hey, little man,” Seth says, ruffling Luca’s curls. “How you feeling, Rory?”

“Fine,” I say. “Changed the bandages. It’s all fine.”

“I can take a look,” he says.

I clear my throat, “No. That’s all right. I’m good. Nothing concerning.”

I’m curious to see their faces, to search for any hint of skepticism. I want to know how obvious it is that I’m lying. But I know if I look at them, try to read the room, that’ll give me away. So I just keep eating.

“You sure?” he asks. Luca is now climbing him, scaling his body like it’s a piece of gym equipment. “Want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

“Hey, your wife was wondering, do you have a spare cow to give to Ian Pedretti in exchange for my hand in marriage?”

“To Ian?” he asks.

“Yeah. Maybe a piece of fertile land. Any goods or property, really. Not sure if he’ll take me otherwise.”

“Ignore her,” Ash says, waving her hand.

I grin at Scarlett, who rolls her eyes at me. Not having it.

—

We spend most of the day at Ash’s, trading gossip, telling new stories, or retelling old ones, until Scarlett has to leave for work. She drops me off at home, tasking me with walking Reaper.

“You don’t need to go far. A few blocks,” she says. “Only if you feel up to it.”

“I’m up to it,” I say, even though I’m exhausted and in pain. I’m the soldier marching forward despite the arrows in my chest.

Scarlett thanks me and drives off.

When I open the front door, Reaper is there waiting for me, scowling.

“You want to go for a walk?” I say, attempting a peppy, animal-friendly tone.

He barks, and it sounds remarkably like a firm no.

“All right. Well, I’m not jazzed about this either, buddy.”

He nips at me twice as I attach the leash to his collar, then warily follows me outside.

Once we’re out, he’s less salty, trotting ahead with only the occasional glance back, just to let me know I’m still on notice.

It’s a sweet autumnal evening with a light cinnamony breeze and a violet sunset. I forget where I’m going until I’m there. Until I’m here. At the edge of the woods.

A sudden gust of wind batters the trees. There’s the shimmy of leaves, twigs snapping. An unsettling.

It’s getting dark so fast, the night panting at my back.

My body goes cold.