“Just keep your doors locked.”
“Mac told me the same thing.”
There was a strange silence on the other end. After a breath, Jason advised, “Listen to him.”
Rolling her eyes, she stood up. “So if it happens again, I’m supposed to ignore it? Let him scream? Not call 9-1-1 or you?”
“There’s nothing to do, Cassidy. And don’t you try.”
“What about treatment?” She told herself she didn’t care that much about Mac, but the screams had been horrible. The scars were real. The suffering was genuine, and no one deserved to suffer.
“He’s been through it. Don’t want to say it failed because he’s functioning, but…” Jason said, “I don’t want to talk about it; it’s probably more than I should have said. I just want you to understand him a little bit.”
“It doesn’t excuse him being an asshole.”
“No,” Jason agreed. “But he wasn’t always such a prick.”
Cassidy managed a laugh. “I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true,” Jason insisted. “He was a decent guy. He still is.”
She laughed harder. “Now you’re being ridiculous, spinning tall tales.”
“Nah, it’s true. Every once in a while, his good nature still slips out, but he’s perfecting the art of killing that part of himself.” Jason’s tone was melancholy.
“Why would anybody do that?” she asked, her eyes lifting, looking out the large pane window to the trees and imagining the cabin beyond and the man inside.
“Why, indeed?” Jason responded. “Don’t get caught up in his trauma. Take care of yourself, okay?”
“Of course.”
“Okay, then. Talk to you later.”
“Talk to you later, Jase. Thank you. Bye.”
They hung up from each other. Cassidy stared at the dark phone. “I learned a new word today.”
Chapter twenty-two
Mac
DANCING WITH HER DOG
Sexinthelaundromatwas a cliché, but it passed the time. It also allowed him to bypass a night at the bar. What it hadn’t done was chase away the demons. Sex was supposed to act as an anesthetic to give his brain relief. It was supposed to let him rest. Apparently not tonight.
Another reason why his shack in the woods suited him: he could wander in the middle of the night without alarming the neighborhood watch. He’d never be able to prowl in the suburbs, half-lit on whiskey. In the city, he’d get into too much trouble with all the vices readily available. Too remote out in the country, they wouldn’t be able to find his body.
The lake was perfect, and his alluring neighbor was midnight entertainment.
Sure, she was usually asleep. And he was the definition of a peeping Tom, creeping around in the middle of the night. But he told himself if she was fool enough not to lock her doors, he was looking afterher, not creeping on her.
Not that he cared; it was something to do to keep him from going crazy in the dark of the night. Watch her sleep, play with Fred, allow them to distract him until the sun began to rise or his body began to collapse due to exhaustion.
This night was no different from any other night. Except on this night, he tried to stay away. He sat on his porch, tossing back whiskey. But with each bracing tumbler downed, the need to check on his neighbor grew.
He told himself it was for Jason’s sake; it had nothing to do with her fucking beautiful face, those damn lips he’d imagined more than once sliding around his cock while she stared up at him. Or her red hair looking like it would flow through his fingers like silk, or her breasts he was aching to cover with the palms of his hands, sure they would be the perfect fit.
“Fuck’s sake,” he swore as he leveraged himself off the porch.