Page 21 of Runaway Queen

She headed to a beat-up old wreck of a Honda and got in, waving goodbye to Chiara. Just like a magnet was tied to my chest, I found my feet heading toward Bran’s ride. I still had the keys in my pocket. My eyes riveted on Sofia’s car, I started my own, my mind oddly empty, and closed the door.

The Honda pulled out, and I was right behind it.

* * *

The car headed northalong the shore. I stayed close behind. I missed call after call from Bran, but I couldn’t answer right now. I couldn’t think about anything at all.

Night had fallen, and I rolled down the windows to let the cool air keep me sharp.

The Honda pulled down a quiet, winding road toward the ocean. It pulled into the driveway of the lone house that sat at the bottom of the road. As the headlights died, I pulled to the side of the street farther back and killed the headlights. It was dark. I had to get closer.

I slipped out of the vehicle just as Sofia got out of hers. She had a shiny plastic bag in one hand and her handbag in the other. I ventured closer, sticking to the shadows for a moment, before stepping out.

I strode down the street, my hand checking my gun as I went. A simple reflex.

She disappeared into the isolated house, with the yard that backed onto the water on one side and the woods on another. It was quiet. The kind of quiet that let a man like me know that there was no one around for a good distance.

No one to hear her scream.

Go in there and take her,the voice inside me growled. Take her where? I’d only just arrived in town. I had no place to stay, no idea where to go, or even where I could take a woman, against her will, and keep her. No. I couldn’t rush in, unprepared. Besides, I didn’t want her to see me yet. I wasn’t ready. I wanted to watch her. See her life. I wanted her to feel the jaws of her punishment slowly closing in, before they snapped shut on her.

A new game. A scrap for the beast inside, to soothe its mad hunger.

My prom queen, the only love of my wretched life, was alive.

I was relieved.

I was furious.

I was the happiest I’d ever been.

I was the angriest.

Above all, I was excited about something for the first time in seven years. A game finally worth playing.

I stood there in the dark watching for her, eyes trained for any sign of movement behind the shuttered windows, until a sharp ring cut through the night. It was my phone. I grabbed it out of my pocket and answered as I made my way back to the car.

“Dude, what the hell?” Bran sounded exasperated.

“I had to check something. I’m coming back for you. Sit tight. I’m on my way.”

9

SOFIA

Fall in Hade Harbor was beautiful. The temperature was pleasant, hitting seventy degrees most days, but the breeze from the ocean kept it manageable. The small town sat on the water, and I loved to walk by the harbor and see the boats come in.

On Saturdays, Leo went with Angelo to his beginner’s boxing class. I trusted Angelo not to let Leo exert himself too much. Leo nearly always stayed at Angelo and Chiara’s house on a Friday nights, and I worked on my commission paintings in my studio. The additional income was a big boost for my monthly budget. Today, given the clear weather, I was making the most of my free time, painting at my favorite coffee shop, on the huge outdoor deck that overlooked the water. Today was the day I had to present my work-in-progress to Edward Sloane, an appointment I wasn’t looking forward to.

All the paperwork was done for Leo’s admittance to the hospital later today. Just the thought of it, and the hope surrounding the donor, was setting me on edge. If there was anything I’d learned in my life so far, it was that hopes were usually dashed, dreams didn’t come true, and it was best not to expect them to.

I was working on a landscape. Last night I’d made some progress on the commission, so my reward was working on something I liked. The landscape was darker than the paintings of the artists sitting around me, but that was my style. I loved the light on the water, but I loved the shadows more. My art was always dark. The students called it edgy, but I knew it was just reality, as I perceived it. I’d seen beyond the veil, to the other place, where people lived without rules or morals. After Silvio had died and my world had fallen apart, the darkness had never truly lifted.

Silvio had died? You mean after you’d killed him?

“Oh my god, that’s beautiful,” a voice called to me.

I turned. Chiara made a beeline for me through the tables. She was so stunning; several people turned and watched her make her way toward me. In tight jeans and a tight striped shirt, with her hair in a long braid, Chiara had really embraced the Maine aesthetic. She fit in here, with her sunny smiles and nautical chic outfits. I envied her. Once more, I was the odd duck. Despite living here for seven years, I still looked like a newcomer to Maine. Black was still my favorite color, and I still couldn’t get used to Moxie or Allen’s coffee-flavored brandy.

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