Page 70 of One Filthy Kiss

Ric spots me first as I stand in the doorway watching them. He immediately rises. “You’re awake.” He goes to the coffee machine and fills a cup for me. “Did you sleep well?”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You always say it isn’t nice to wake someone up.” Amber spoons a creamy piece of waffle into her mouth and watches me while she chews.

I can’t be angry with her. It must be so confusing, going to LA to see Nikki, staying in Gio’s apartment in New York, and now traveling through the night to stay in yet another new place. No wonder she’s doing something normal like coloring.

“You’re right, sweetie. It isn’t nice.” I sit in Ric’s vacant seat and pick up a red pencil, automatically filling in an image of a balloon on the pagein front of me.

Ric slides a coffee cup across the table towards me and leans against the counter.

“Thanks, Ric. For taking care of her.”

“Hey, no thanks necessary. It’s my pleasure.”

I’m still trying to process what happened, which is easier if I concentrate on the simple picture in the child’s coloring book. I’m aching to know that Gio is safe, but I don’t want to ask in front of Amber. What if the plan went wrong? What if…

The sickly feeling congeals in my gut again. I study Ric while he watches Amber; he wouldn’t be standing there so nonchalantly if anything bad had happened to Gio. Would he? I mean, worst case scenario…

No. I refuse to let myself think about it. I’m not getting those kinds of vibes from him, and I should trust my instincts. I would know if the plan had gone horribly wrong. I would sense it, the way I would sense if a light had gone out even with my eyes closed.

“Ric said we can make cakes today, Meggie.” Amber squashes a blueberry between her teeth and pokes out her tongue. “Is my tongue blue?”

I smile. “Yuck. So blue.”

“Look Ric.” She shows him her tongue and then dissolves into giggles.

“It’s the bluest tongue I’ve ever seen,” he says, humoring her.

“I won’t be able to make cakes here though.” I talk over the sound of her laughter. “I don’t have the equipment.”

“Yes, you do.” Amber points at the kitchen, and Ric standsaside so that I can peek around him. “Gio sent cake stuff here for you.”

I blink. The kitchen is equipped with a state-of-the-art electric mixer, and hanging from a rack attached to the ceiling, is every kind of pan, baking tin, spoon, and spatula that I could ever possibly need.

Ric walks around the counter and opens the wall cabinets for me to view the contents. It’s a cake maker’s paradise. Gio did this for me? I don’t know how, or when—we only decided to relocate here yesterday—but somehow, he made it happen, and the flush of love spreading through me reinforces my belief that he’s still alive.

I glance at Ric, and he doesn’t need to say anything. He’ll give me the details later, when Amber isn’t around to hear them.

Is this it? Is it all over? Will we be able to get on with our lives now without constantly looking over our shoulders? Will I ever get used to living without that fear?

A sweet buzz of joy passes through me, and I have the urge to run outside and scream myself hoarse to let it all out.

“What cakes shall we make then?” I ask Amber.

“Mountain cakes.” She doesn’t even look up from her near-empty plate.

“Mountain cakes?” I raise my eyebrows at Ric; this must be his idea. But he shrugs in response.

“There are mountains outside.” Amber says this like she’s informing me that it’s raining. Again. “So, we need mountain cakes.”

I get up and cross the living room to the bay window. The view takes my breath away. We’re surrounded by vibrant greenmountains, giant sunflowers and carpets of white daisies leading towards a glassy lake down below. Some peaks still have snow, and I imagine how beautiful Stowe must be in the winter.

I remember now that Amber said she wanted to build a snowman, but when I turn around to look at her, she’s still coloring in her book, still eating her waffles, unfazed by the lack of snow.

“It’s beautiful.”

Would it be quite so spectacular if we were still on the run from Amber’s father? I guess it would cast a shadow over the view, but Vermont is stunning whichever way you look at it, and I don’t know how I got so lucky.