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And he takes his sweet time considering, his eyes crawling over my face, my body, the sweat on my lip, the tear in my shirt…I can’t tell if he loathes me or wants to eat me.
“Alright,” he says so abruptly that I jump. That makes him smile, too.
“So…I can use the road?”
“Every damn day.”
“And…what do I have to do?”
This smile is the worst of all because it’s the most genuine.
“You’ll do whatever I ask. Come tomorrow evening—and bring that tool bag with you.”
* * *
2
DANE COVETT
Ihadn’t planned to give the girl the easement, especially once I realized she was the neglectful niece.
I made the choice all in the moment because of the look she gave me when she said,I can do anything…
It was part desperation, part stubbornness, and one hundred percent too tempting to resist. My mind filled with a flood of twisted fantasies.
Plus, I liked how her body looked, sweating and straining to cut through that chain. The sun shone through her thin shirt, revealing the shape of her dark nipples and the silver glint of rings.
That was the first filthy thought I had about her—the impulse to tie her to the bed so I could slowly tug and twist on those rings…
A dozen others followed. The temptations came hard and fast, images of what I’d like to do with her hands, her mouth…
It surprised me because I hadn’t felt anything like that in a very long time. I haven’t even been hungry, and all of a sudden, I’m craving a ten-course feast…craving it from her…
The rusty orange Bronco and that ridiculous purple hair…it’s eye-searing and I should hate it, but I’m fixated like I’ve discovered some entirely new flavor combination, something you almost want to spit out until you find yourself reaching for another handful...
I want to watch her work on my property, doing whatever I ask. I want to watch her lift and haul and sweat for me.
The annoyance of someone passing on my road is a small price to pay for the leverage it creates in a girl that desperate.
I head back inside to doze through the heat of the afternoon. In the evening, I cook and then read because I have no appointments tonight.
I take my plate of food out on the upper deck. From here, I look out over a carpet of green bordered by a black smudge of ocean. I can’t see Grimstone or that ugly fucking resort, thank god, but to the east, Blackleaf is glowing.
It’s been three years since a light burned in any of the windows. Even though I know it’s only the nephew and niece, I still get a feeling of warmth like Ernie’s there, too. The body doesn’t pay attention to the brain, sometimes.
I don’t know which is in charge when I get the urge to walk over to Blackleaf—probably some part south of my brain because that’s where I feel a low throb when I picture the girl sweating in the sunshine.
I cross the woods and fields between the two houses, a familiar walk, even in the dark. But I approach Blackleaf like I never would have in the past, from the side instead of the front.
It’s easy to locate the siblings by the bobbing lights of their lanterns moving from room to room.
Half the windows on the main level are smashed. The industrious Remi has already nailed up fresh boards. Her voice leaks through the gaps in the planks.
“—so I’m going over there tomorrow night.”
“How are you going to fix our place if you’re fixinghisplace?” comes a peevish voice—presumably the brother. “And why are you going at night?”
“I don’t know, he probably works in the day. And I don’t exactly have a choice, Jude, I told you—“ her voice muffles momentarily as she exits the room, still talking, and returns a moment later, finishing with, “—best I can do.”
