“What the fuck?”
“Right?” I said, my voice thick with tears. “I just wanted to, like…burn the whole place down.”
He snorted, shaking with laughter, and after a moment, I started laughing, too. He kissed me, reminding me that no matter how the night started, it was ending very well. I wanted to stay with him, but he had friends with him, and I wasn’t sure if he already had plans.
“So…” I said, changing the subject. “You have friends.”
It was kind of weird, confirming that he was a regular guy with an everyday life. And here I thought he was a vampire, rising only when the sun set.
“Can I meet them?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re mine, not yours,” he warned, moving his mouth under my ear. “And you’re mine, not theirs.”
“Well that narrows down your identity,” I replied. “An only child, because you never learned to share.”
I’d figure it out eventually. Or find a way to make him tell me. After all, I was keeping him a secret from others, too.
But, it occurred to me, I wasn’t a secret to him. While he was one to me.
Why?
I didn’t feel guilty about hiding him from others, but he was hiding himself from me. There was a reason for that.
Was he old? Attached? Psychotic?
Or maybe…embarrassed by me?
But he suddenly spoke up, breaking me out of my thoughts. “Where does your boss live?” he asked.
My boss?
I narrowed my eyes. “Why?”
Damon
Five Years Ago
We left Anderson’s car where it was and climbed in mine, the guys having already moved on, as I drove her back through town and to her boss’s house.
“What are you going to do?” she asked me.
I pulled up, parking along the curb, across the street from the theater manager’s house, a craftsman-style home with a large wraparound porch and several gables. The yard was green and pristine and only a single light shone from outside the front door.
I wasn’t sure yet. But I always came up with something.
Emory Scott lived in this neighborhood. It was nice and clean but boasted none of the mansions the seaside area of town did. I actually preferred it here. Houses close together, neighbors…it would’ve been a nice place to grow up.
I put the car in Neutral and pulled up the e-brake. “What do you want me to do?”
I looked over at her, her hands clasped in her lap, looking kind of nervous, and I smiled. Her mouth twisted, and I could see the apprehension all over her face. So scared of getting into trouble.
But I was sorry. No one told her what she could and could not do.
Except maybe me.