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I knew he was just kidding around—sorta—but I wasn’t in the mood. “That isexactlywhat it means.” I stashed the last glass. “Thomas, I’ve been through enough already tonight. I’m gonna lock up and head home.”
He raised his hands in the air. “I’m leaving. Robert’s on duty tonight, but call me when you’re ready to go. I’ll be sure he escorts you home.”
That was kind but, “I’m good. Got Betsy in the truck.” Betsy was my shotgun.
“You buy that handgun for your purse I told you to get?”
“Bye, Thomas. Say hi to your wife.”
He took the hint and got up. “You know, that shotgun won’t do you no good if it’s all the way outside. That’s why I told you to buy yourself a—”
“I geddit!” I barked. I knew he was right. A girl on her own had to have protection, especially because I lived thirty minutes outside town at the Carlins’. They were gone most of the year, so I stayed in the guesthouse for free. All I had to do was watch the place, feed and water the horses on weekends (they had a hand during the week), and oversee the cleaning people when they came to tidy up. The Carlins were good friends of Uncle Jimmie’s, and nice people, so I didn’t mind being their caretaker. After all, that was what my last name meant, caretakerin German. Or “chicken ladder.” The internet wasn’t exactly clear.
Either way, I didn’t mind watching their animals or being their security. Thus the shotgun I owned to mostly scare off critters. For example, something had been spooking the horses at night these past few weeks. Still wasn’t sure what it was.
“Sorry,” I said to Thomas. “Didn’t mean to bark. I just don’t need a handgun. I usually work the day shift. Safe as can be.”
He strolled toward the front door. “I’ll get you some of that pepper spray I bought for Lizzy. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.”
Why did Thomas still feel like I was his to look after? Our relationship ended seven years ago. “Thanks, but if I want something, I’ll ask Santa. Or Amazon.”
He walked out with a grunt, closing the door behind him. I was about to lock it when I heard a beeping in the back.
“Dangit! Deedee! You trying to make a grilled cheese again?” She knew Jimmie didn’t like us cooking here.“Make your messes in your own damned kitchen,” he’d say.
I stormed into the back and skidded to a halt. Tall Guy was standing there, smoking a cigarette next to the back door. The angry look in his bloodshot eyes was nothing shy of sinister.
My heart fell to my knees. “Where’s Deedee?” I asked, a terrified shiver in my voice.
“She’s just taking a little nap in my truck.”
I swallowed hard, adrenaline surging through my veins. “What did you do to her?”
He pulled a buck knife from his waistband. “Same thing I’m gonna do to you.”
Fuck.My eyes toggled side to side, searching for a weapon. Unfortunately, the night cook had already cleaned up, and the knives were in the drawer ten feet away.
“Aren’t you supposed to be gettin’ married in a few hours?” I asked, thinking my question might jar some sense into him. “Do you really want to remember this day forever with blood on your hands?”
He shrugged. “Blood always makes the occasion brighter.”
His response wasn’t only weird, it was downright crazy.
“Look, honey,” I said, trying to keep calm, “I’m sorry about earlier, but if I were your sister, I bet you’d be proud that she stood up for herself.” I wasn’t really sorry. I was petrified.Where the devil is Deedee?
He took a step closer, flinging his lit cigarette to the tile floor. “Ain’t got no sister.”
I took a step back. “Mother, then?”
He took another step. “She’s dead.”
Of course she was. He seemed like the type who didn’t have a mother. Or, at least, no one who loved him unconditionally.
“I’m not going down without a fight. You know I won’t,” I said, raising my chin.
He flashed a lopsided smile. “I like it when they fight.”
My heart thumped against my ribcage, my lungs screaming for more oxygen. Every cell in my body knew I was going to have to run or fight for my life.
