Page 80 of Overkill

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I put on the absolute biggest smile despite the tears that mixed with rain on my cheeks. I let the salty taste of my own misery spill into my mouth, and tongue. I felt the bitterness down to my soul as I put on my final performance. “I went for a walk, and when I got home, the truck and the boat were gone. I waited three days to file a missing person’s report because I assumed he went back to his family’s manor.”

“Baby…” Greg looked up at me, head tilting to the side, then shaking, pleading for me to not say the lie my life depended on.

But it wasn’t just my life. It was Marc and Miriam’s as well. I had almost nothing to live for. Nothing to lie for. Just those two.

And when they were out of high school, and on their own two feet, then maybe I would let the Grays take me to the lake, to the same spot where I’d poured twenty-five year old single malt whiskey down to the depths that swallowed Luke whole. They could have their way with me there, until I begged for death.

But not a single day before it.

“Baby, please…”

The rain made Greg shine like a martyr. But I knew now he was a traitor.

“Don’t call me that. Don’t you dare call me that. I’m not your Sweetheart, Darling, Baby, or whatever bullshit name you—” I wanted to yell at him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t pretend to be outraged.

I wasn’t.

I was hurting. Broken open, shattered.

“I know that!” he snapped. “Because that’s what he called you, right?”

Ice went through my veins.

“He called you baby. That’s why you hate it.”

It was a lucky guess. He didn’t know me. Not like a person who cares. I was just a job.

He was so full of shit.

“He took you with him to the lake that morning,” Greg said. I turned away, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me into him. He kept me upright even when I almost slipped on the ice. He lowered his voice, placing his lips to my ear.

Anyone looking would think we were lovers reconciling after a fight.

But we were neither lovers nor reconciling.

“You went. He got drunk. He went overboard. Maybe you didn’t kill him, but you didn’t save him, either.” His breath on my ear did things to my body that my mind rebelled against. The comfort I had learned to find in him was still there, even as I fought to shut it out. “You were the last to see him, and you’ve kept that secret ever since. You’re never going to face murder, but the concealment—”

I pulled my arm out of his grasp, forcing myself to come to my senses.

“Melody…”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I dug my heels in. I was entrenched; I would not budge.

“Old Man Smithy saw it.”

Shit.

The look on my face must have given me away, because he stared at me with absolute pity. Like I was pathetic. Because I was.

“He would never—”

“I don’t know what he thinks he saw. He’s old. His eyes have been going for a while.” I would die on this hill. “I went for a walk. I came home. He was gone.”

I would lie again and again until it was believed. I would play dumb. I had no pride. I didn’t care.

“Melody…”

Greg was good. So good, I almost wanted to melt into him. I wanted to forgive him. If I could have turned back the clock and walked away without having heard what they’d said, I would have. I would have chosen the ignorance of a few minutes ago, because I’d been happy. He had made me feel wanted, seen, and…respected.