Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54148 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Did she dress provocatively?”
“Oh yes,” Janet says. “All the time. She craved attention, especially from older men.”
“You see that sort of thing all the time with girls who come from broken homes with absent or abusive fathers,” Ewan says. “But McKenzie was in a class all her own. We haven’t had that much difficulty with a placement, before or since.”
I feel like I’m outside of myself.
Before or since.
I don’t know what I expected to happen when I saw them again. An earthquake, maybe. A meteor strike. Spontaneous combustion. Something to mark the moment as significant.
Since...
All I feel is a slight queasiness mixed with a dash of incredulity.
This is the monster I’ve been running from?
I told myself that Ewan Cline was dead to me. Six years later, I can no longer believe my own lies. He’s still out there. Hunting, creeping, hurting. Because a monster like Ewan Cline can’t stop. He’s always hungry.
Before or since...
I push up from my desk and race down the hall to Austin’s office. He looks up from his computer, concern crimping his brow.
“What is it, Kenz?”
“I’m sorry to have to ask you this, but I need a ride.”
“You don’t have to apologize. Where do you want to go?”
“See, that’s the part I do need to apologize for. I need you to take me to Newport and not ask why.”
“Newport.” He frowns. I know what he’s thinking. Newport is almost an hour away. It’s the middle of the workday.
He closes his laptop.
“Okay.”
I ask Austin to park across the street from the redbrick house with white trim. The single-story home looks unassuming from out here. You wouldn’t guess that some of the worst moments of my life occurred behind those white curtains.
“This is the place you want to be?” Austin asks. He still has no idea what we’re doing here. I haven’t mentioned the television interview, or who I’m here to see. But my twitchy hands and bouncing foot tell on me.
“Yep. This is it.”
“Do you want me to come in with you?”
I didn’t before, but now that we’re here, I don’t think I can make myself go back in there alone. “If you come in, you have to promise not to hurt anyone, no matter what happens.”
“Why would I want to hurt someone?”
“Just promise me, Austin.”
His jaw twitches. I can only imagine the dark directions his thoughts are now taking; they wouldn’t be too far off from the truth.
He studies my face for a long moment and then sighs. “All right. I’ll be calm. Can you give me some idea of what I’m walking into?”
A fair request. I consider how much he should know going in.
“I lived in this house with Hollywood when we were fourteen. It was the last foster home we stayed in before we went off on our own.”
“Do your foster parents still live here?”
“They do. But they’re not the only ones I’m here to see.”
I take a deep breath, count to three, and then force myself out of the truck. Austin follows suit. He holds my hand while we cross the street and doesn’t let go until were standing on the front steps.
I ring the doorbell with a shaky hand.
Janet answers the door.
Her eyes bug out of her head.
“McKenzie. What are you doing here?”
I force my shoulders back. “Hello, Janet. Can we come in?”
She shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t think... I was just about to serve dinner.”
“This’ll only take a minute.”
I hadn’t actually considered what I would do if she refused to let me inside.
Her gaze flits to Austin.
“Who is this you’ve brought with you?”
“This is—”
“Austin Pope,” he says, holding out his hand. “Co-founder of Pope and Parkes Construction. I’m McKenzie’s boss.”
She blinks. “Her boss...”
“How old’s your roof, if you don’t mind me asking? It looks like it’s gonna need replacing soon, and we offer a steep friends and family discount.”
That perks her right up.
“Well,” she says. “I suppose you can come in just for a minute.”
I shoot Austin a grateful smile.
Steeling myself, I cross the threshold into the living room where Hollywood and I used to watch television. So much is the same, the furniture, the paintings, the smells—vanilla-scented candles and Febreeze.
“Have a seat,” Janet says, gesturing to the couch.
Austin moves to sit and then stops when I don’t move to join him.
“I’d like to see my old room,” I say.
Janet frowns.
I don’t wait for an invitation, and I don’t stop when she calls my name.
My heart pounds as I walk the familiar hallway until I come to the right door. I peer inside the bedroom, noting the pink bedspread, the blue sweater on the back of the desk chair, the purple backpack.
Uneasiness ripples through me. The room is in use, though the inhabitant isn’t here. I wonder if the mattress is the same, and if it is, did Janet ever get the blood stains out?