Page 4 of Cruel Saint

I parked my SUV in the driveway and reached for my bag on the passenger seat. As I slung it over my shoulder and made my way along the succulent-lined path to my two-story townhouse, a chill trickled down my spine, awareness causing the tiny hairs all over my body to stand on end. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was being watched.

Just like during my run this morning.

My mind flashed back to the man in a dark suit I saw sitting outside The Daily Grind. His silhouette seemed oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen him before.

It didn’t help that I’d hadthatdream again. The one where I heard him calling my name. No matter where I went, how hard I tried, I couldn’t find him. When I looked down, my hands were covered with blood.

Hisblood.

I was fully aware it was just my subconscious playing tricks on me, making me see things that weren’t possible. Samuel was gone. At least, that was what my brain reminded me nearly every day for the past five years.

My heart, though… It still didn’t get the message.

I wondered if it ever would.

Shaking off the sensation of being watched, I punched my code into the keypad. As soon as I opened my front door, I was assaulted by a rambunctious bundle of white and tan fur jumping on me. The beagle mix’s tail wagged frantically as he panted with excitement, showering my face with kisses.

By his reaction, you’d think I was gone eight years instead of only eight hours.

“Down, boy,” I ordered, pushing him off me and giving his head a scratch before turning to retrieve a handful of boxes piled on the porch.

With a swift kick, I shut the door behind me and brought today’s deliveries into the living area, piling them on top of even more boxes.

I’d only arrived in California a few weeks ago and the chaos of moving still lingered in every room, boxes stacked haphazardly in every available space.

My plan for the weekend was to finally unpack and start making this place feel like home.

“What do you think, Ollie?” I asked my dog. “Should I stop procrastinating?”

His bark was the only response I needed.

“Okay. Okay. I’m sure you hate living in an obstacle course. Don’t you?”

Grabbing a knife from the butcher’s block, I headed toward today’s deliveries. As expected, each one contained items I’d needed for my new home, most of which I already owned but were packed away. Instead of trying to find them, I’d ordered new items of my more important possessions — like wine glasses, a corkscrew, and bath towels.

As I reached the last box, my eyes lit up at the logo of my mother’s bakery. While I was content with my decision to leave Atlanta, I missed her. Missed being able to stop by her house and talk to her while we baked together.

I eagerly sliced through the tape on the box, my stomach growling with the promise of having some of her baking.

“Think Grandma baked you some of her pupcakes, too?”

Ollie barked, obediently sitting beside me, his tail wagging when he saw me remove the familiar bakery box from the package it had been shipped in. Swiftly slicing through the twine, I lifted the flap.

But there were no cookies. No cupcakes. No muffins.

A sharp intake of air filled my lungs as I stumbled backwards, the box slipping from my grasp with a deafening crash. A necklace with a heart-shaped pendant skittered onto the hardwood floor, taunting and tormenting me.

Reminding me that I could move thousands of miles away, but I’d never escape my past.

I’d never be free.

ChapterThree

Imogene

This couldn’t be happening. Not again. This necklace meant nothing. It was no big deal.

After all, this wasn’t the first time I’d received something like this.

---