She came over and over but she also spent hours just holding the big Monstrum, stroking his hair as he pillowed his head on her thigh and breathed her in. She had planned to cook a special meal, in celebration of their little anniversary, but she sensed that Roarn needed to be close to her more than he needed food right now.
I’ll get up early and make him a big breakfast, she told herself as the big Monstrum at last curled himself around her, cupping her body in the curve of his own large frame and warming her with his velvety fur. I’ll make sure he gets a good start.
But the next morning when she woke up, his side of the bed was empty and the spot where he had slept was already cold.
Roarn was gone and Christine didn’t know if she would ever see him again.
THIRTY-THREE
Christine got up and made herself breakfast, but she found she couldn’t eat any of it. She was already missing the big Monstrum so badly it made her stomach ache.
Deciding to just have coffee instead, she went to fix some…and found a note by the coffee maker. Scrawled on a piece of notebook paper in Roarn’s large, inexpert handwriting were the words,
Christine, I Love You.
Seeing the note, made her finally lose the battle not to cry. Pressing the ragged bit of notebook paper to her heart, she sank down in one of the kitchen chairs and wept like a child in deep, painful sobs that felt like they were tearing her apart.
Oh Roarn, where are you now? What if you get caught in another trap? Or what if the Fury takes you again and you forget me and can’t find your way back?
Or what if the Kindred caught him out there and took him away and she never saw the big Monstrum again?
There were so many dire possibilities crowding into her mind, Christine couldn’t count them all. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and shook her head. She had to stop thinking like this—had to stop “borrowing trouble,” as her momma had always said. Another of her sayings went, “Worrying is like paying a debt you don’t even owe!” Christine told herself she had to stop paying that debt—it was eating her alive!
Probably the big Monstrum would be just fine, she told herself. Probably he would be back in a matter of hours with proof that he hadn’t hurt or killed the pilot and caused the crash. That would allow him to have peace and then they could go on like they had been, enjoying each other’s company and snuggling up together every night…
“But until then, I need to get out of here,” Christine told herself. It was about time for another trip to the Food Lion—Roarn was a big eater and she needed to stock up on groceries. Also, there were some new recipes she wanted to try and she needed to get ingredients. At any rate, going to the grocery store would take her mind off her troubles.
Swiping at her eyes, Christine got up. She cleared off the kitchen table and put away the remains of her uneaten breakfast. Then she took a quick shower and got dressed in her boots and sweater and coat to go out—most of the snow had melted in the recent warm front, but it was still plenty cold outside.
She stepped out and locked her front door. But just as she was walking to the end of her driveway, she saw the Fensters’ big, black, jacked-up pickup truck driving up the main drive towards their trailer.
Seeing them coming, Christine jumped to the side of the road, not wanting Mike Fenster to get any bright ideas about swerving to run her down. But when the truck went past, it wasn’t Fenster’s crazy grin she saw in the window.
Sitting on the passenger side, with her hands pressed to the glass and a terrified expression on her pretty face was Jenny Albright.
THIRTY-FOUR
For a moment, everything seemed to be going in slow motion—then Christine realized that was because the black pickup had actually slowed down as it passed her house. It blew its horn—which wasn’t a normal truck horn at all, but one of those things that sounded like a freight train. Whoo-whoo!
Personally, Christine thought they ought to be illegal—they scared the life out of you when the idiot who had installed it on his car or truck blasted the train horn right behind you in traffic.
But it wasn’t the horn she was concerned about at the moment. Because right after it blew, Mike Fenster leaned over and grinned out the window at her, his face right beside Jenny’s white, frightened one. Then he waved, as though making certain he had her attention, and the black truck picked up speed and went on up the hill to the ridge above her property where his trailer was situated.