Page 8 of Haunted By the Shadow of Death

Kicks was next to me a moment later, our bags in hand. “Ready?”

I nodded.

We walked toward the cottage, pausing intermittently as people stopped to say hello and catch up for a minute. The chitchat made the ten-minute walk to the cottage closer to a half an hour, and we did very little speaking amongst ourselves.

The cottage was a cute little bungalow off by itself, with a beautiful pond view. If we were honeymooners, it might’ve been perfect.

We weren’t.

Kicks tossed our bags down. “They’ve got well water rigged up with generators, but not a lot. I’d be sparing in your use.”

I nodded. I didn’t want to speak to him about anything, not water, not Bri. Nothing.

“I’m going to wash up quickly and then go check on the guys. I’ll stop by and catch Bri up, too.”

“Uh huh.”

I didn’t need an IQ over fifty to figure that one out. He wasn’t just going to explain what happened with Groza. He was going to make belated explanations on what had happened with us.

I tried to pretend I was getting settled in as he came out of the bathroom, looking cleaner than I liked, with a fresh shirt and pants.

“I’ll be back in a few.” He paused at the door, watching me.

“See you in a bit,” I said calmly, like there was anything normal about this situation.

I didn’t have a right to claim him, but that didn’t make me feel any better about sending him off.

I looked at the little battery-operated clock next to the bed. Two and a half hours. How long did it take to tell Bri that Groza was a psycho and his mate killed people? I got sick of fluffing my pillows and tossing and turning. I also wasn’t going to give him the opportunity to sleep in this bed beside me, even if we didn’t have sex.

I grabbed a pillow and the blanket and settled onto the small rug on the floor. Wasn’t quite as comfortable, and the chill was a bit tough, but at least I’d have my pride in the morning. Kicks could take the bed and there wouldn’t need to be a conversation about it. He was lucky I was still in the cottage at all. In another half-hour I was going to go find Charlie’s bunk and crawl in with him. If Kicks didn’t care what people thought, then why should I?

He might not even know I’d left. Why was I presuming he would come back at all? That might’ve been nothing but lies. He didn’t owe me anything.

My eyes were closed and my back was to the door when I heard him come in. I didn’t want to feel relieved. I didn’t want a sizzle of excitement over his returning. I had to fight my body’s urge to roll over and look at him, ask him what he’d done, what had taken him so long, what he’d had to say that took hours.

“Are you making a point?” he asked.

I could hear him standing right beside me. Figured he’d know I was awake. He could probably hear my breathing or something. Maybe smell the smoke I was throwing off from all the suppressed rage burning inside.

“The bed didn’t look that large. I thought I was being polite.” I pulled the cover up closer to my chin, not bothering to look at him as I spoke.

One second I was on the floor, the next he was picking me up.

“Get off me! I’m not sleeping in a bed with you after you slept with her.”

He ignored me, tossing me onto the bed anyway. “I didn’t sleep with her. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You didn’t?” I asked, already halfway up and trying to figure out how I was going to get around him. He was standing at the foot of the bed, waiting like a linebacker to block me.

“No. I didn’t. We weren’t even in her house. I spoke to her outside. I ran into her before going to the bunkhouse to check on Charlie and the crew.”

“Why didn’t you sleep with her?” He certainly didn’t look like a man who’d just had a good time. Even saying he appeared “churlish” might be too kind a description right now.

“Because I didn’t want to,” he snapped.

Where was the calm and collected Kicks? All his smoothness was gone, nothing but ruffled feathers left.

“But why—”

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