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Is it the money? The trophy?
And the one man that I actually want lied about his past! Or at the very least, lied by omission….and then he left!
My limbs are shaking. Guillaume takes another step closer, and I throw a hand up. “Stop right there.”
“I’ve watched you this past month, Jennifer. Watched you with that big, bumbling oaf. You deserve better. He’s finally gone, and you’re here with me. You’re just as beautiful as I remembered in our kitchen. I know you’ve missed the long nights we spent together, cooking and cleaning until the sun came up.”
“Actually, no,” I answer. “I don’t miss those nights at all.”
He chuckles. “You’re so sweet when you lie to me.”
“I’m not lying. Come one step closer and I’ll call the police. You shouldn’t even be here. Whose pie is that? Did you steal someone’s food from a cooking class?”
“You deserved to win. This is your pie. I’ve hidden it here all week, but I couldn’t resist finally eating it.”
I stare at the smears of cherry all over his body. “I can see that.”
He comes closer, and my eyes are drawn to a strip of pink near his waist. I inhale sharply, eyes bugging. “Are you… Are you wearing my undies?”
That day I thought someone had messed with my stuff…that was Guillaume? He’s wearing my underwear?
Breath fills my lungs, horror floods my system, and I scream.
CHAPTER 33
Fallon
I’ve got two gifts to give to Jen, which will hopefully help mend whatever went wrong between us. The first gift is contained in a basket dangling from my fingers, and the second is housed safely in my pocket. My mother insisted I take it when I left her house, and now it sits like a weight against my leg.
I’ve just finished knocking on the guesthouse door and am waiting with bated breath to hear Jen’s footsteps when I hear…a scream? What was that? An alarm or a whistle of some kind?
Then I hear the crows.
It starts with just one bird cawing, soon to be joined by too many to count. The racket gets so loud I step out from under the porch, only to see dozens of birds flapping near the barn.
What the…?
Frowning, I put the basket down near the door and step away from the cabin. Glancing up, I see the black birds going wild in the sky. One flies above the trees toward me, alighting on a branch. It caws loudly before flapping its wings to circle overhead.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I yell at the bird, half expecting it to answer.
Glancing over my shoulder at the dark guesthouse, I exhale and walk onto the path. These fucking birds. Jen was right; I never should have fed them. I just wanted to make Jen laugh, and look what I’ve done. I’ve created a monster—a deafening murder of crows that goes ballistic on a quiet Sunday evening.
But…I’ve never seen the birds like this before, and over the past month, I’ve spent a lot of time feeding them.
And I did hear a scream—or was it another bird? An animal?
My feet take me down the path, through the trees, and into the clearing. Glancing up at the sky, I watch the birds flapping and cawing like I’ve never seen before.
What the hell is going on?
Then I see movement. Through the windows of the darkened farmhouse, I see a man—
And Jen. She’s rushing for the door, her face panicked.
Adrenaline dumps into my veins, and before I know it, I’m sprinting. I rush around the side of the barn and tear the door open so hard, one of the hinges snaps clean off.
Jen stumbles out, eyes wild. “He’s wearing my undies!” she cries.
