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It made me far too gullible to things I should know don’t make any sense. So I replay it over and over in my mind. How he tasted in my mouth, my thighs aching, my core burning in the best way, and his husky words claiming me. Then what I said about being as crazy as him…
I kiss his chest, then quietly get out of bed and walk toward the hallway to use the bathroom. The window at the end of the hallway is lit up. I move closer. It’s the security light in the yard. Somebody’s standing there, arms at their sides, holding a pistol in one hand and what looks like a pair of handcuffs in the other.
Time slows as they notice me, but I have the space to study them.
The black clothes hug their lean frame. The shape of the mouth, the way the eyes widen… Jesus, I’m losing it. I really am seeing things. Stumbling closer to the window, I throw it open.
I stick my head into the cool night air and stare down at the figure, convincing myself it’s real, convincing myself I’m not completely imagining it. I can see it. I can see him.
“Dad?”
He smiles sadly, turning away.
“Dad? Is that you?”
At the end of the garden, he pauses and looks at me over his shoulder. He smiles just like he used to when I was a kid, during the good times, before he got nasty. Then he climbs the fence slowly, his age showing as he hauls himself over.
“Lucy?”
I turn to find Jamie running down the hallway in his underwear. He’s got a ready-for-a-fight look on his face as if my screaming awoke a violent part of him. The same part thatapparentlykilled Dad.
I can’t even notice how the veins bulge in his arms and chest. All I can do is rush forward and glare up at him.
“Dad was just in the garden with a gun and handcuffs.”
I’m panting, I realize, but I note the voice as if it’s distant and belongs to somebody else. I can form the words even as they come out strangled and terrified.
“I saw him. I didn’t imagine it. It was him, right down to his smile. He used to smile at me like that before the drugs… before he started… I can’t say it. He always apologized after.”
Jamie rushes to the window, his broad back rising and falling quickly with his fists clenched at his sides.
“What were you going to do, Patrick?” Jamie says gruffly.
Hearing my dad’s name in Jamie’s husky voice sends a shiver down my spine, and something else slams into me. Jamie doesn’t sound surprised. It’s like he believes me. The man he killed rose from the dead.
“Aren’t you surprised?” I snap. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m completely nuts?”
Jamie turns, takes my hand, and strides to the bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I say, but my feet make me follow him.
Despite all this, some part of me still trusts him, but I shouldn’t. I should stamp on that so-called trust until there’s nothing left. I’m unsure why he gently guides me to the bed until I drop onto it. My legs turn to Jell-O, and I start gasping and panicking. The gun, Dad’s face, the smile… It all catches up to me.
I’m not sure what happens. Maybe I blackout, or it’s the stress, but I hear Jamie on the phone a few moments later.
“And you’re okay?” he says. “Yes, yes, that’s good. Do that. That’s the best place you could be.”
Jamie hangs up, glancing at the door.
“You have to explain,” I say, feeling like I’m finally able to speak. It’s difficult to push the words out, though. “Who was that?”
“My sister. They’re going camping with a few hunters, friends of my brother-in-law. They’ll be off the radar for a week, at least. Nobody will find them.”
“Is it…” I make myself say, “Dadthreatening them? I don’t understand.”
“Just relax.”
He approaches me with his hands raised like he thinks I’m some wild animal who will lose it. I jump to my feet and wave my hand at him. Okay, fine, I lost it. Sue me. It’s not like I don’t have a reason.
