Page 96 of Killer Love

“Thanks,” I say as I step inside.

I look around. It’s as small as it looks on the outside. One room just large enough for the old pull-out bed against the wall with a kitchenette and a half-bath behind it. Four walls, a roof, and miles of nothing on all sides.

Works for me.

“It ain’t much,” Mrs. Clark says, standing beside me. “But you’ve got wi-fi! And hot water.”

I smile. “It’s more than I’m used to.”

“The icebox is old, but it works. Little on the small side, so you’re welcome to keep some food in the house fridge if you need. I’ve got the extra space since I’m cooking for one nowadays.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“You can decorate it however you want. I’ll let you know monthly about your share of the utilities.”

“All right.”

“You’re not planning on killing me in my sleep, are you?”

I blink in surprise. “No, ma’am.”

She smirks. “In that case, I’ll let you get situated. If you still want it, that is.”

I take another look around and nod. “I want it.”

“Okay, then.” She steps back toward the door. “If you’re hungry, I’ve got some beef stew in the Instant Pot.”

“Oh, no,” I say. “I don’t want to intrude.”

She raises a brow. “You’re paying over a quarter more than I asked for. I can put out an extra bowl for you now and then.”

I bow my head, genuinely taken back by her kindness. “Thank you,” I say.

She regards me with warm eyes. “Do you like movies?” she asks.

“Movies?”

“Movies. Films. Flicks.”

“Yeah,” I answer. “I guess.”

“I just got a new 60-inch,” she says, pointing a thumb back toward the house. “Figured I’d break it in with that new Night Trials movie later. You’re free to join me if you want.”

Night Trials.

I traveled miles across the world to the middle of nowhere, and I still can’t escape my past.

“Maybe,” I say.

“Just come knocking,” she says. “Otherwise, I’ve got a delivery of paint supplies coming in the morning. I’d appreciate some help moving that around.”

“I’ll be happy to.”

She smiles, her expression shifting slightly as she eyes the scar on my cheek. “It ain’t my business where you came from, kid,” she says, her tone still just as comforting. “I’ve never met a man who wasn’t hiding from something.”

I’m not sure how to respond to that, so I merely nod once.

“I’ll leave you to it,” she says before walking outside.

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