Page 49 of Her Unending Horizon

The phone barely rang once before he picked up.

“Benson,” he answered. Alert. Too alert for three or four in the morning.

“It’s Zarek,” I said. “Zarek Post. You gave me your card today.”

“Post!” Maurice sounded genuinely pleased. “Hell of a good call. I was hoping I’d hear from you. I had a feeling you weren’t done.”

My skin prickled at that. He sounded like a man who could smell blood from across a parking lot.

Parking lot. Yeah that fit. He’d probably been a used car salesman at some point in his career.

“Wanted to talk,” I said. “About what you mentioned.”

“Sure, sure,” he said. “We should meet. Easier to answer questions that way.”

“Where?” I asked.

“You know Kellerman’s?”

“Knoxville?” I clarified. “Diner off the strip?”

“That’s the one.”

“Time?”

“Ten p.m. Friday.”

The night before the barbeque. “All right,” I said.

“Good man,” he replied warmly. “You won’t regret it.”

I hung up before he could make it sound any sweeter.

The house was quiet again. The card sat heavy in my hand. I set it on the table and finally sat down in front of the plate Chloe had made.

The chicken was dry and the potatoes had lost their crisp edges, but it still tasted like someone had cooked for me. Like someone had cared if I ate.

Comfort slid under my skin, slow and stupid.

Then the anger came right on its heels. Angry that my head was this screwed up. Angry that I couldn’t just be like Chloe—see the wound, name it, clean it, stitch it, keep moving.

I chewed and stared at the opposite chair.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter if she walked away and never came back.

“Yeah, sure, dumbshit. That’s it.”

I swallowed a sip of water.

How much further down did I need to fall before… Before what?

I shoved the plate away and headed to the master bedroom. This time I peeked inside the nursery before hitting the sheets.

After everyone I failed, rock bottom wasn’t deep enough.

Chapter Eleven

Thursday morning, Seris was tired of listening to me.