Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
The entire scene turned my stomach. A mixture of fear and anger made the bile in my gut shoot up like a geyser. I swallowed it all down and held it together for Elijah. I let him cry it out into my chest, rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head, letting him know that I was here and wasn’t going anywhere.
“I hate this, Ry. God, I hate it so fucking much.”
“I know. I know.” I kissed him again, my hand making slow circles over his shoulder blades. “I wish I had an answer already, but don’t lose hope, baby. I’ve got you.”
“It’s hard. I’m just—fuck, I’m just riding the wreck. No control, spinning toward a cliff I’ve got no way of avoiding. That’s how I feel right now.” Elijah took a step back and rubbed his eyes as dry as he could, wetness still making them glisten. The pieces of my heart that had been left after the chainsaw were now dropped into a wood chipper. I had been right in thinking that the stalker was becoming more desperate, but now I could definitely strike Kimmy off the list, seeing as I’d been sitting directly in front of her during the time this had all been happening.
Back to square fucking one.
Fuck!
“Hey, guys, I’ve got the security footage pulled up.” It was Mike, the store’s manager. He promised to give us a copy of the footage before the cops collected it for evidence. We followed him to the back office in somber silence, Elijah breaking it with an occasional sniffle. I kept my hand on his lower back, wanting to keep him solidly anchored to the ground.
To me.
“Come, right in here.” Mike let us enter his office first before stepping in, sitting in the chair in front of the computer where a clear video filled the screen. It showed a relatively empty produce section, with only two people checking out the apples and avocados. Mike pressed Play and sat back. The two customers picked the fruit they wanted and pushed their carts away, disappearing out of frame and leaving the section empty.
Someone re-entered the frame, coming in from the side. A woman, wearing tight jeans and a low-cut long-sleeved shirt, carrying a heavy-looking black bag, bulging oddly at the sides. Her head was wrapped with a gold-and-brown silk scarf with a honeycombed pattern, huge sunglasses obscuring her face. She stopped as if Mike had pressed Pause, and she looked around.
When she saw she was in the clear, she tipped over the bag. The pig’s head rolled out. She quickly placed the wig on it from another bag and set the doll down. She dumped the bags into the trash can at the end of the lane and hurriedly walked off the screen. Mike clicked a button, and another camera replaced the one that had been on the screen, showing the main entrance. The woman left without anyone even lifting a brow in her direction, walking down the street and out of sight.
“Are there any street cameras?” I asked.
“It’s the city’s property, so you’ll have to go through them to get it.”
A small speed bump, but that was fine—I’d deal with getting the footage. “Do you recognize her?” The question was for either Mike or Elijah. Blue Creek was a difficult place to hide in. Someone had to recognize her—
“No,” they both answered in unison. Elijah leaned forward, squinting. “Actually,” he said. “Something about her feels familiar…”
“I’ve never seen her in my store before, ever. And sometimes I just sit here and people-watch through the cameras. Not once.” Mike stood as a pair of cops entered the office. They were polite but firm in wanting us to get the hell out, that this entire store had become an active crime scene.
Mike promised to send me a copy of the footage. Elijah and I left the store before the cops had to ask us again. I could tell Elijah had already reached his limit of bullshit for the day, and I obviously didn’t blame him. My priority was in getting him home and comfortable. Time would heal the trauma, but that wouldn’t happen overnight.
“Let’s get back to my place, Eli. Tomorrow, we’ll head to my dad’s farm and put even more distance between us and this. I’ve got you, I promise.”
He looked at me with those soft green eyes. He didn’t say anything and didn’t need to. The rest of the night was nearly as silent, spent simply holding each other, watching brainless movies, and eating brownie crumbles, trying to keep both of our heart rates down below heart attack threshold.
24
Elijah King
Yesterday was a long one. Hard, too. And as fun as that sounds (long and hard? Sure, sign me up), it wasn’t fun at all. I could barely sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I’d see that pig head bleeding on the floor, and it would slowly transform into my own head. First with the eyes, then the nose, then the ears, then the hair, and then it was me on that grocery store floor.