Page 86 of Love You To Pieces

But if they don’t, then it’s not exactly my fault.

EPILOGUE

Pearl’s snoring is truly the equivalent of sawing wood. Or an approaching train.

My eyes open, and now that I’m awake, I can hear everything else that her snoring had been covering. Though my mind takes a few minutes to swim upward out of the cloudy, pleasant depths of dreams. Crickets sing outside, a legion of them somewhere near my window judging by just how loud they are, and a nice breeze blows inward, sending the thin, lacy curtains reaching toward me.

I never thought I could love the sight of curtains blowing in the breeze before, but now it just feels so comfortable. So much like home, even though it’s still new for me. From downstairs, I can hear Fox and Deacon, and one of them laughs a full, surprised laugh that must be Fox.

“Hey,” I sigh, sitting up in bed. “It’s dinnertime, you know. Not that you need the extra food, with how fat you’re getting.” Pearl opens her dark brown eyes, regarding me, then closes them promptly as if she can fake being asleep.

“Pearl, I literally know you’re awake.” I run my hand over her head, down her smooth-furred body, until I’m patting the pudge of her belly. I have no idea how she’s gotten fat when she’s the most active dog I know. Especially with me, on our escape attempts, and with all the man-killing she’s been doing.

“Maybe we need to find you another victim. That would burn some calories, right?” I chuckle, finally getting out from under her. She yawns and stretches, her front legs out in front of her while she kicks her back paws. Instead of getting up, Pearl just rolls into my warm spot while I head for the window, nose to the screen as I gaze outside.

The setting sun is far enough below the trees that the yard is cast in shadow, but there’s something beautiful in that, too. Fireflies wink in and out of existence, and it’s hard to even want to tear myself away from the sight and the feeling of that cool, summer breeze.

I could be happy here.

I want to be happy here.

Through the window, I can see the dark outlines of the shed and the workshop. I know what’s in the workshop tonight, even though Deacon tried to be sly when he moved the Hills’ bodies in there. I didn’t say anything.

There’s nothing to say.

There’s nothing more for me to do other than accept it, or leave.

The back gate key is still sitting on the end table, and I turn to glance at it, watching the way it reflects the light from the digital clock that reads 8:01. Some part of me still yearns to grab it, to run, to get out of here and go back to Nashville where everything is safe and boring and⁠—

Where no one misses me.

The pang of hurt is sharper than I think it’ll be, and I lean against the window frame, taking a few breaths while Pearl starts snoring again, though this time I’m pretty sure it’s just an act to convince me to take pity on her. God forbid she has to trundle down the stairs for handouts, when she should be pampered and brought a silver platter of choice tidbits.

Not that she doesn’t deserve that and more.

I stand there, staring blankly, unmoving other than when my eyes catch the flicker of another firefly.

I could be happy here.

With two men who care about me. Who’ve told me they love me, who’ve killed for me and saved me from a terrible fate.

Everyone has flaws, theirs are just…darker than others. But they aren’t monsters, they aren’t⁠—

No, Sadie-Rae, I chastise mentally, giving a soft snort. They are absolutely one hundred percent monsters.

But they aren’t monsters like the Hills. Like Sebastian, who tried to assault me, then turned it on me so I lost all of my friends, including Emma. They aren’t like that.

And maybe I can live with the kind of monsters they are, if it means being loved by them.

“Sadie-Rae!” Deacon’s voice travels up the stairs, and I glance back toward my door, shifting my weight from one foot to the other on the hard planks below me. “Dinner’s ready. You up?”

“I’m up!” I call back automatically. Then turn away from the window, nearly inhaling a curtain, and look at Pearl. “Come on, if you want food. I’m not carrying your second dinner up to you.”

I would, but I’ll pretend I won’t.

She gives a huff and rolls off the bed, landing on all four paws and trotting across to the door in front of me, like going downstairs is her idea instead of mine. With all the initiative of the pudgy queen she is, Pearl lumbers down the stairs, heads down the hallway, and goes straight to Deacon while he sets the table.

“She’s already eaten,” I say dryly, rolling my eyes and picking up the stack of plates from beside him. “You know that, right?”