I’m so angry at Jared—and more than that, at myself—that I begin to laugh. It starts off low and quiet until I’m cackling into the sky like a crazed lunatic.
“You okay, miss?” The deputy asks. When I don’t answer, he turns to Nine. “She okay?”
“Sure, I’m fine! I’m just fucking great!” I look up at the sky and the approaching rain clouds. “Jared, you fucking coward! Wherever you are, I hope they deny you from the country club, and I hope your Wi-Fi is sketchy, at best!”
“That’s the best you got?” Nine asks, looking amused.
“Yeah, you could have done way better,” the officer agrees.
I roll my eyes at them.
“Can we go inside and get some of her personal items?” Nine asks. “Clothes and bathroom shit?” Nine places his big arm around my shoulder. I don’t think it’s for comfort but rather a reminder that I’m not going anywhere but with him.
“Personal items, yes. Furniture or fixtures, no. The movers are still finishing the downstairs. They haven’t made it to the second floor as of yet. You’ve got twenty minutes and not a second longer. The locksmith will be here soon change the locks. After that, you won’t be able to get back in.”
* * *
NINE
I try not to stare at the spot on the floor in the master bedroom where Jared collapsed after I killed him.
I help Lenny grab a backpack from the massive closet, and she shoves as much clothes inside as possible. She looks around, and her shoulders fall. She zips up the bag. “I guess that’s it,” she says.
I look around to her still very full closet. “You sure?” I ask. “Still a lot of shit in there.”
She nods. “It’s from another life.”
I grab her bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“You did good by not saying anything to the cops,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t even know what to tell them. That you’re taking me somewhere against my will but it’s not like I have anywhere to go so being kidnapped is my only option?”
“I’m keeping you safe,” I argue. “Ricci’s men ain’t gonna stop looking for you.”
“But why are you keeping me safe?” she asks. “I told you I don’t know anything about Jared’s stuff, and you can check my laptop and my records if you don’t believe me. I’m being evicted for Christ’s sake. Jared’s stolen every penny I have and split town. There’s no reason for you to want to keep me safe. You don’t even know me.”
“I know a lot more than you think.”
She storms out of the closet and is heading for the stairs when she spots a picture on her dresser. She picks it up and runs her fingertips over the smiling man and woman inside the frame. The woman looks like Lenny, just older.
“My parents,” she says, answering my unspoken question. “They died four years ago today.”
I stand behind her and look over her shoulder and realize there’s someone else in the picture too. A young woman with short, platinum blonde hair and bright blue eyes, standing right between them. I blink as if I’m seeing a ghost. “Who is that?” I ask, trying to hide the fact that I’m trembling as I wait for her answer because I know what it’s going to be and I’m surprised I didn’t see it before.
“It’s me, a long time ago. Before I started wearing glasses, and before I let my hair grow out and return to its natural color. I looked so different, didn’t I?”
My throat is dry. I turn around and tug on my hair. I need to sit down. I need to fucking breathe. I sit on the end of the mattress.
“What’s wrong?” Lenny asks, shoving the picture in her bag.
What’s wrong is that one picture just changed everything.
And the worst part is that I’m not sure if I should even tell her. Suddenly, I don’t know a goddamn thing when a second ago, I was so sure of everything. That’s why I feel so protective of her. That’s why I feel so drawn to her when I’ve only felt that way about one person before. I’m trying to sort through too many colliding thoughts when my hand connects with something hard under the comforter beside me. Lenny notices the lump in the bed and crosses the room.
I feel the shape over the blanket and instantly know what it is.
“What the hell is that?” Lenny asks, pulling down the corner of the comforter.
“Wait, Lenny, don’t,” I warn, but it’s too late. I leap from the bed and cover her mouth because she’s screaming.
I don’t blame her. If it was the first severed head I saw, I’d probably be screaming, too.
“Everything all right up there?” booms the deputy from down in the foyer.
“Everything’s fine. We’ll be down in a minute,” I shout back.