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Prologue
July 1953
The animals are acting strange. Somehow, they’re always the first to know. They can sense his moods better than I can, and believe me, I’ve gotten pretty good.
“Smells amazing!” he exclaims as he steamrolls into the kitchen and plants a peck on my cheek.
My hands shake, but I keep on keeping on. Meaning, I stick to the plan. I’m flustered still, which pretty much sums up the state I’ve been in since my eyes landed on him, but more on that later.
Trust me, it’s a lot to digest.
At the moment, I’ve got a pretty full plate.
“And youlookamazing,” he tells me as he washes up at the sink. “Remind me—how did I get so lucky?”
I shrug and offer a fake smile.The devil has his ways.
Never mind that he’s going to kill me six ways to Sunday. Good thing it’s only Friday. I still have time to get myself out of this calamity, otherwise known as the fight for my life. On the bright side, I’ve done it before.
I’ve changed his mind.
I’m sure if I concentrate hard enough, I can do it again.
Unfortunately, having any sort of coherent thought feels next to impossible. It’s stifling outside, and it’s even hotter in here. The humidity is unrelenting and oppressive, like this town. And if the heat of a thousand suns weren’t enough to bear, Mary Baker showing up here unannounced was the nail in the coffin.
It’s such a shame. I swear, if her face is the last I see before I die, I know for sure I’m going to live in eternal hell. They say you recognize your friends when things get rough, and I am finding that more and more true.
When Mary called this morning, I told her not to bother, and yet, here she is. Betrayal is always painful. No matter how cynical you are, it hurts. Mary, like most women in this town, is very focused on maintaining her status. Part of that is what people think about her. As such, she must comply with demands.
Now, he’s going to kill me and her both. What does he care?
He could wait until she leaves, but knowing him, he’ll do it just to prove a point.Look at me, look what I can do. They should have seen it coming. Why didn’t they see it coming?
Oh, I did.
I do.
That’s how I ended up here, standing with this metaphorical gun to my head. Everything is some sort of competition with him, only he never lets you know what game you’re playing.
And rules? Forget about rules.
This gives him the advantage, which he doesn’t want to admit he desperately needs.
But I know better.
If only Mary did.
She doesn’t, so he plays the perfect gentlemen, forcing my hand. He offers her the tea and shortbread. “That’s for the Forresters, remember, dear?” I say with an amiable smile.
“I’m sure they won’t mind if there’s a little missing.” He takes a cookie and stuffs it in his mouth. “How can I resist?”
I move the plate away. “Try.”
“Come on now,” he says through a mouthful. “Is there anything you do thatisn’tirresistible?”
Mary sighs wistfully. “Newlyweds.”
I watch as she shoves a shortbread wedge in her mouth, while he covertly spits his into a napkin and I ball my fists. This is not how this day was supposed to go.
