AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Mara’s gaze darts my way, and I suddenly realize, with all this talk about Ethan, I still haven’t heard back from him. I pull out my phone and check my text messages, then social media. I open his profile to see he hasn’t posted anything since last week, which makes sense with the funeral and everything, but it still worries me. I hope he’s doing okay, that he knows I’m here if he needs to talk.
“Everything okay?” Paulette asks, studying me.
“Yeah, I just…I sent him a message yesterday and haven’t heard back.”
“I’m sure he’s just busy,” she says, her eyes soft and sympathetic, as if she suspects—as I do—that I’m being blown off. “Like Austin said, funeral weekends are a lot.”
“Yeah. Right. No, of course. I know. I just wanted to check on him. He hasn’t posted online in a few days, so I’m sure he’s just been off his phone in general.”
“He knows you care.” Mara pets my arm gently with a lopsided smile. “That’s what matters. He’ll see it when he gets a chance. And, in the meantime, we’re having…” She busts into a loud rendition of that“The Time of My Life” song I only know from theDirty Dancingmovie my parents love so much.
Logan pauses the audiobook when Paulette joins in on the song, and soon, the two of them are dancing around the room using wooden spoons as microphones to perform while Austin, Memphis, Logan, and I watch and cheer for them. Er, at least Austin and I cheer for them. Logan mostly nervously follows them, cleaning up spills as they bump into Austin’s chopping board, a stack of books, and my open bag of Starbursts from last night. Next to me, Memphis just chuckles to himself and shakes his head.
When Memphis finishes with the steaks, we carry the food and drinks to the table.
I return to the kitchen to get the plates and silverware and find Logan sweeping up any food we dropped while cooking. “Need any help with that?”
He shakes his head, squatting down to sweep the scraps into the dustpan. “I’ve got it.”
“You know you don’t have to do that, right? We should all be pitching in more.” I tap my fingers on the countertop, feeling guilty. “It’s your vacation, too.”
“I don’t mind.” He stands up, turning to empty the dustpan into the trash can. “I relax easier when there’s not a mess. It’s my problem, not yours. I know everyone’s only having fun. I just hope you all don’t find me annoying about it.”
I reach up and open a cabinet, grabbing a stack of plates. “Not at all. Everyone has their quirks. As long as you don’t think we’re lazy.”
He smiles and opens his mouth, prepared to say something, when I hear the sound of a door slamming outside.
“What was that?”
I move around to the back door and ease outside as he heads to put the broom away. Curious for another peek at our peculiar neighbors, I step farther out onto the porch and spot them standing next to the black sedan in the driveway.
Their foreheads are pressed together in what looks like a loving embrace from a distance, but upon closer inspection, it appears threatening.
The way he’s staring at her is intense. His jaw is tight; his grip on her arms is so angry I can see the white halo surrounding his fingerprints from here.
“Everything okay?” Memphis asks, surprising me by appearing in the doorway.
This time, I’m grateful when the neighbors hear us and immediately break apart. They look over at us, and I don’t bother to wave. I want him to know I saw what just happened.
Want her to know.
They both turn and rush inside without another glance in our direction.
“I think I just caught them in the middle of a fight,” I say softly, keeping my voice low.
Memphis’s dark brows draw down. “Yeah?”
“I don’t like him.”
He puts a hand on my back, ushering me inside. “Do we need to call the police or something? Was it physical?”
I swallow, unsure of what to say.No, he didn’t hurt her, but would he have if we hadn’t interrupted?I don’t want to be the kind of person who sits back and observes and never takes action. If she’s in danger, I want to help. But I also can’t help fearing getting involved if he is dangerous, or even if he’s not.
If I call the police and they both deny anything happened, I could be putting a target on my head. Perhaps I’ll call after we leave. It’s just two more days.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Let’s go eat,” he says, his eyes still on the neighbor’s house. “Food’s getting cold.”
