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I sniff. “I think I’ll drive west.”
“You should have a plan.” He pulls back and looks down. “The FBI can help you. They’ll give you a new identity.”
He’s no longer my boyfriend, he’s Officer Turner.
That sounds horrible and is not at all what I want. “I don’t want a new identity. I just need to find my footing. I’ll just find a place to hole up for a while.”
“That sounds so much better than being with me,” he quips with sad sarcasm.
The naked space between us fills with a storm of emotions. I wrap my arms around my waist, uncertain if I should bite back or just let it go. He’s mad, and I’m scared. There are no winners in this fight.
He lets out a forceful sigh when I say nothing. “I love you, Kalico. I see you. The real you. I see your fear, and I feel it.” He holds his hand to his heart. “I want to be by your side. Help you fight against this psychopath. But I get it. I know I can’t force you to stay.” He runs his hands through his hair. “Is this goodbye forever?” he asks quietly.
“I don’t know. I hope not.” It’s the most honest truth I can give him.
I watch his eyes, the pain in them as they jump from my eyes to the door and back to me. He lets out a strangled breath. “If you need a hero, you know where to find me.” With that, he spins in place and walks out, shutting the door behind him.
Riggs stands at my side and stares up at me, confused.
I rub his head, wiping tears off with my other hand. “Sorry, buddy.” My heart feels like it’s been torn from my chest, leaving a hollow ache.
The front door opens, and Paxton doesn’t make eye contact with me, just calls for Riggs. Riggs goes to him but glances back once before he closes the door again.
And just like that, I’m alone. A lump forms in my throat as I swallow it back, wondering if I have the strength to do this alone. Leaving the only state I’ve ever known. This is what you always wanted, the small voice inside my head reminds me. Not like this. Not having to decide between love and fear.
With fear winning.
CHAPTER 35
Kali
I’ve realized that life is predictable, no matter who you are or where you live. I’ve been in this vacation rental home for two weeks, hiding away. The first week, all I did was cry. The second week, everything inside became numb.
The house is in the middle of a suburban neighborhood in a small town, nestled between mountains and a river. My plan wasn’t to stop until I hit California. I needed space between me and Texas. And him. It wasn’t until I stopped for gas that the town’s tranquility at sunset convinced me to stay. It was quiet here.
I could finally breathe.
Back to predictability. While I waste away here, I’ve memorized my neighbors’ schedules by watching their lives through the lens of my front window. I glance at the time on my phone. Grace—her name isn’t Grace, but she looks like a Grace—is about to run out on the heels of her daughter. I always want to walk over and hand her a glass of wine. Even though her day is just starting, she looks like she’s been running hard and hung out to dry. Her daughter’s in middle school, according to the sticker on the back of her SUV, and by the usual sound of screaming between the two of them, it’s never a relaxing morning in that household.
I take a sip of my coffee and watch the morning unfold, watching everyone stick to their daily schedules.
“Right on time,” I whisper to myself, watching the white Honda pull up to the curb.
Mark—yep, he looks like a Mark—gets out. Short black hair, chiseled face, tan skin, wearing his typical tank top stretched out over his bulky muscles, and short gym shorts. He grabs his bag from the back seat. Most people would think he’s the wife’s trainer. He shows up exactly an hour after the husband leaves for work, two days a week. Heck, I thought he was her trainer, too.
Until today.
Sun. I need some vitamin D. I frown thinking about the humidity being negative one hundred. Or close to it. It doesn’t matter. You need fresh air. At least my subconscious is concerned about me.
“Hmm. What book should I read?” I walk to the small office. There’s an entire wall with built-in bookshelves, filled to the max with books. I was reading a lot when I stayed at Amy’s, but when school started, I didn’t have time. But if there was ever a time for me to start reading again, it’d be now.
“Definitely a rom-com,” I say to myself, running my fingers along the spines, reading the titles. I focus on the bright pinks and oranges. I don’t need angst, horror, or sadness. I’m living that. I pull out Worth It by S.M. Shade and C.M. Owens. It looks like a fun book just by the cover.
I haven’t flipped the first page, and I’m already deep-belly laughing. This is exactly what I needed. Thanks subconscious. I lift my head, irritated when I overhear the wife and Mark come out. She giggles. And then a splash. I imagine he dove in because women don’t jump into pools, they walk in. I would jump, but I’m a rebel. There’s no talking. After a few minutes, I wonder if they went back into the house, and I focus my attention back to my book.
“Does he make you feel this way?”
My eyes widen, and I fixate on the wooden fence between us, wondering if I just heard what I think I did because it wasn’t loud, but then an unmistakable moan follows. I cover my mouth, afraid they’ll hear me breathing as I continue to listen to them have sex. Not that I want to, but I’m afraid to move. I’m stuck listening to a live-action porn on the other side of my fence. Doesn’t she care that someone might hear them? Like me?
