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“That you do.” He laughs before ending the call.
I dial my friend Abel at the morgue next.
“Hey. Is it set?” he asks.
“It is. Expect it in four days.”
“I will see you then.”
He doesn’t question me before he hangs up. He knows what I do. He used to do the same. It’s how we met, aiming for the same target. But he gave it up a few years ago when he started working at the morgue. I think he still dabbles from time to time, just doesn’t tell me.
My mind focuses on why I’m doing this.
For her.
The play’s in motion. Now I sit and wait.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
KAYLA
“Hi, sweetheart!”Mom flings her arms around me in a tight hug, refusing to let go, while my father smiles softly beside her.
His hair was once a vibrant brown, but is now all gray. Yet that sparkle in his eye that I recall so vividly as a child is still there, and that brings me comfort.
Mom finally backs off and gives Chris a glance, his tailor-made suit making him look like…well, a bodyguard. How the hell am I supposed to pass him off as a college kid?
“And who might this be?” Mom perches back and gives me a curious stare. “Is this the young man from?—”
“From college?” My heart races.
She was about to blow my cover and tell him who I was with last night.
“Yeah, he’s a friend from school.”
I nervously fumble backward and give him ayou better follow my lead or dielook.
His mouth twists, and he advances toward Mom, extending his hand in greeting. “I’m Chris, and yes, we go to school together.”
“Oh, I’m glad you were able to come after all.”
His brows gather, and his attention bounces between Mom and me.
“So!” I quickly say, needing to end this dreadful conversation. “What are you making, Dad?”
“Well, I’m grilling up those pizza burgers you like and some roasted vegetables, plus some chicken wings because I remember how much you loved those.”
My chest tightens. He’d barbecue all the time. We’d sit around every weekend in the summer while Dad made us a meal. He loved to feed us.
“I still do, Daddy.” I throw my arms around him.
His hugs are home and warmth. Tears burn my eyes, but I force them away. They have no place here.
“Come on, let’s eat.” He pats my back and kisses my forehead. “I missed this.”
Me too.
It’s my fault, really. I didn’t want to do anything after I was rescued, drowning in my own despair. And my parents didn’t push it. But maybe these barbecues are just what I need to remind me of who I once was.
