Page 44 of His Pet

LORENZO

Islip on my tennis shoes and begin lacing them up.

It’s been about two months since the last time I managed to get away from Las Vegas, but I haven’t forgotten the tranquility of this place. I never will. I can already feel the crisp air entering my lungs and the scuttering of animals bringing me peace. Feel the river water under my feet and the sun on my back.

My father wasn’t exactly affectionate growing up, but a love for nature is the best thing he’s ever given me. I don’t think it’s what he intended. It started out with a hunting trip. I can still feel the deer’s blood on my hands as he showed me how to gut my first kill.

He was showing me how to be a killer. I knew that at the time, but it didn’t change my love for the cabin. I begged every weekend to be taken out here, and he usually obliged, if not him taking me then someone in the familia. It got to the point where I could hear my mother’s worried voice as she argued with my father about it.

He’s just a boy.You’re encouraging too much violence.

Boys become men,Nemma.

Lorenzo is different!

I didn’t knowwhat she meant when she said I was different, but when I asked her about it later, she had tears in her eyes. I know now.

My interest in hunting easy prey like deer has since dissipated, but the peace I get from being out here hasn’t. I’m in my own skin. I’m home.

I inhale a deep breath and stand from the bed, rolling my neck and stretching my arms behind me. I grab the orange strips of cloth from my dresser top and shove them in my shorts. I consider checking my phone for calls but decide against it. It’s underneath the loose floorboard beside my dresser, along with the keys to my car. I’ll check it later.

I grip the knob and ease open the door. A loud crash sounds, and I throw the door open the rest of the way to see a baking sheet lying flat on the floorboard. I raise a brow and turn my head toward the living room.

Amelia rushes into the hallway, her curly hair a frizzy mess and her eyes wide. She must’ve slept on the couch.

It’s been three days since we got to the cabin, and each morning I’ve managed to slip out without waking her. I enjoy spending the evening with her, but my time in the forest isn’t something I share. With anyone.

“It’s five thirty in the morning!” she says like she’s accusing me of something. “You’re vacationing and you wake up an hourearlierthan usual?”

I glance at my watch on her wrist, the one she asked me to let her wear, and suddenly, I regret it.

I gesture to the pan on the floor. “This is clever.”

“I thought so,” she says, not a hint of amusement in her tone. She looks me up and down. “So… where are you going?”

“I’m headed out.” I walk down the hallway, and when I go to step by her, she throws herself in front and places a hand on my chest.

“Wait.” Her eyes find mine and they suck me in. There’s only the kitchen light filtering in here to illuminate us, but I see into her so clearly. I already know what she’s going to ask me, and I ready myself to shut her down. It’s harder than I’d like. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you now?” I ask, my lips twitching.

She sighs and takes her hand off my chest. “Can I go with you,please? It’s boring here. There isn’t even a TV.”

I chuckle and flick her chin, turning her pleading expression into a glare. “You kids and your technology… I can pick one up later. I was planning on going into town today anyway.”

“No, that’s not the point.” She shakes her head. “I can’t be alone here again. I’m going crazy.”

I place a hand on her arm and kiss her forehead before pushing her out of the way. “I think you’ll manage,” I say over my shoulder, heading for the door. I’m crossing my fingers that she doesn’t follow, but even if she does, she won’t be able to keep up. She doesn’t even have shoes on.

I stride out the front door, and she catches it when I go to swing it shut.

“I’m serious!” she says, her feet pattering on the porch as she rushes after me.

“So am I, Kitty. Go back inside.”

I don’t look back to see if she listens, but I can tell she’s stopped following me by the lack of footsteps. I point myself in the direction of the trail I’ve marked over the last couple days, but my steps slow.

Behind me, I hear her sniffle, and then the sharp intake of a shaky breath.

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