Page 58 of Buried in the Woods Below

“I don’t know yet,” I say, standing over him. As the words pour from my mouth, I realize I’m telling him the truth.

He lies on his back, hands frozen skyward like a baby learning how to roll. “I’m sorry, okay. I thought there was something between us. I’ll never do it again.”

He says the right words, his voice an octave higher, but I see the lie behind his eyes. He will do it again. My hand lifts the blade higher.

“I have a wife, please,” he pleads.

Something in the timbre of his voice yanks me back from oblivion. I picture Freida, the sweet woman who offered me coffee this morning. She’s done nothing wrong. She doesn’t deserve to bury her husband. What am I doing? This isn’t me.

A crunch in the distance interrupts my thoughts. The sound of footsteps on leaves. The aroma of cherry tobacco smoke. Boots and overalls. A pale, grim face. It’s Russ Neuman. He spots me, knife in my hand, crouched over Vivek, and his eyes go wide, then flicker violently. But he doesn’t intervene. He just watches.

I drop the weapon to my side, and I whisper to Vivek, “Go.”

He lifts himself off the ground with great effort and limps away from me. I watch his broken body staggering down the trail. Under his breath he whispers, “Crazy bitch.”

I wonder whether I made the right choice.

Chapter 29

When I return to the Parkers’, my hands are still shaking.

I slip inside and shut the door behind me, pressing my back against it like I can somehow block out the world. Sweat streaks my hairline, raw scratches slash the side of my face, and blood beads along my wrists.

Fortunately, Eric, Olivia, and the kids are still playing on the patio. I hide the hunting knife in my drawer and check my watch. Five p.m. My mother will arrive in an hour.

I can’t let her see me like this.

I can’t let anyone see me like this.

Peeling off my clothes, I step into the shower and crank the faucet until the water scorches my skin. The hot spray bites at every cut and scrape, but I welcome it. The pain feels purifying, like I can rinse away Vivek’s grip, his sneer, his stench.

Pink water spirals down the drain.

His blood? Mine? Does it matter?

I could have killed him.

Maybe I should have.

Out of the shower, I towel off briskly, trying to shake the tremors from my fingers. They won’t stop. Even my lower lip trembles uncontrollably.

I riffle through my bag, fingers clumsy, until I find a small travel bottle of tequila. One pull, then another. The alcohol scorches my throat but stills my hands. Steady now. At least steady enough.

I slather bronzer over the cuts on my face, swipe concealer under my swollen eyes. A long-sleeved striped wrap dress hides the scrapes on my arms. I sneak a glance in the full-length mirror. I look presentable, but I notice that the nick in the glass from two nights ago has spread into a tiny crack. The beginnings of a fracture. How would Laelynn react?

I swallow another shot of tequila to lock the thought of Laelynn and the memory of Vivek behind a heavy bolted door in my mind.

For now.

By the time my mother arrives, I’m sitting outside, inhaling an Eric Parker bootleg like oxygen. The evening is pure Minnesota magic—the sun stubbornly high despite the hour; the light turning gauzy and soft.

Mom, Olivia, and I lounge on pinstriped patio chairs. The twins sit nearby, deep in a card game. Eric flips burgers on the grill, whistling with effortless charm. His apron reads Natural Born Griller. I study his seemingly guileless face, and I wonder about the man underneath—the one who makes secret land deals, who buys up property like it’s a game. The once and future king of Big Island.

Since Laelynn left, the air around here has felt lighter. Eric whistles, the girls laugh. It’s as if a pressure valve has been released and everyone is finally exhaling. But my hands still sting. My skin still burns. Underneath this postcard scene, this summer glow, something festers.

I sip my drink, hoping enough vodka might rinse the truth from my mind.

My mother looks over and smiles. “See, dear? I told you this vacation would restore you.”