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Mrs. Jameson comes up every Tuesday from the small restaurant that’s attached to the convenience store she and her husband own in town. Nancy barks at her so hard, she refuses to get out of her car.
But today’s not Tuesday. And I haven’t invited anyone to visit.
For a split second, I wonder if Regan finally pulled her head out of her ass and came to find me. Or if my mother has sent some sort of special forces team to make sure I don’t talk. As if I ever would. I wish I didn’t know what I knew. Why in the world would I want to broadcast it?
When the squeak of brakes tells me the car’s in front of my house, I stand up. I head toward the front of the house and pick up my shotgun, it’s resting in a corner nook built into the wall. I pick up my pace when I hear the car door close, and I put the butt on my shoulder and open the door slowly.
I drop the gun, and it lands with a thud at my feet. I stand there with my heart racing like it hasn’t in years. Kal is standing at the end of my walkway and it’s like someone put an electric paddle on my chest and hit the power button.
“Oh my God in Heaven,” Kal screams and throws her hands up in front of her and crouches behind the open door of her car.
I shut the door behind me when I hear the scramble of Nancy’s claws across the floor as the strange voice brings her running to investigate.
Kal’s lips are moving but I can’t hear what she’s saying over the roar of blood in my ears.
Is it possible I’m dreaming, hallucinating? Kal, can’t possibly be here.
I stand, barefoot on the front porch of the house and stare down the long stone gravel path at the very last person I expected to see. And perhaps the only person in the world, who right now, I’m happy to see.
Her skin is still that smooth, creamy caramel that I swear I can taste in the back of my throat just looking at her.
It’s like she’s stopped aging since the last time I saw her, almost eight years ago. Or maybe, I’ve died and I’m in heaven. This is exactly what my heaven would be – somewhere quiet with Kal.
But in my dreams, she looks… different. I cock my head and take her in.
Her hair is very straight, streaked with golden highlights and scraped back off her face. Her face is made up. She’s wearing lipstick. It’s a neutral color, but still not close to the peachy perfection of her own lips. I sweep her from head to toe. She’s dressed like she lives in a J. Crew catalog. I go from being shocked to see her to being worried.
“Will?” I say her name and she peeks out from behind her hands.
Her large, brown eyes land on me and the twin beauties stir a place deep inside of me that has been asleep for a long time.
“Remi… hi.” Her smooth, deep voice is the most soothing thing I’ve heard in in a long time. It makes me think about things I miss—home, most of all. Because, every time I’ve been with Kal, no matter where we’ve been, I’ve always felt at home.
I walk toward her, barely noticing the bite of the gravel under my bare feet and completely ignore Mrs. Jameson’s repeated warnings about snakes.
But, her being here makes no sense. Something must be wrong. “Why are you here?” It sounds harsh and unwelcoming even to my own ears, and she flinches.
“Um. I came for you… to see you. To check on you. I—” She blows out a nervous breath and looks around the property.
“The house is so beau
tiful. I don’t know why I imagined I’d find you living in some burned-out, abandoned house.”
I sway and take a step closer to her. Her eyes widen a fraction, but then she takes a step toward me, too
“How’d you find me?” We’re only ten feet apart now and my arms are starting to ache.
For her.
She swallows and the flash of her soft pink tongue as it darts over her tender, plump bottom lip draws my eyes back to her lips. I want to wipe that fucking lipstick off with my tongue.
“Uh, I met Rachel. She told me you might be here.”
My eyes follow the bob of her throat, visible even trapped behind the neck of her wool, navy blue turtleneck.
I peruse the rest of her and miss the pop of color that has always been her trademark.
My eyes snap back to hers. “Are you okay?”
