Page 63 of Hemlock

"Closer to seven," Jericho helpfully supplies.

"We have a small apartment already set up over there," Ace says. "The doctor said you should take it easy for a week or so, but then you're good to go back to work."

"I thought we were clearing the area around home base?" I argue.

"While simultaneously clearing the list," Ace counters.

"If eight of the eleven have all been possible acquisitions, then why would it be such a bad idea for Jericho to go?"

Jericho stands a little taller, ready to take on the task.

Ace shakes his head, pulling in a deep breath. "You're the best fit for the job."

My lip twitches in aggravation, but I don't say another fucking word. I've already said more in this one conversation than I have since I moved to fucking Tennessee.

I hate the idea of Zara out in the world alone. Nathan had eyes on The Lost Kitten at one point, and it's possible that the man who stabbed me was somehow linked to him. That means the man saw Zara, and she could easily become a target. It wouldn't be unheard of for Nathan Adair to have recognized me as a member of Cerberus from New Mexico, because he was well aware of who was protecting his stepdaughter Brielle. He said as much in conversations with her that she later recalled to Newton.

My skin crawls as I think about how vulnerable she is, and even as I climb the stairs to my room, I can't help but feel like the woman is in immediate danger, and if I follow my line of thinking back to Adair, then it wasn't me who put her in danger. It was Wilkinson for offering her a job there in the first place. If the man wasn't already in jail, I'd beat his face in until he was unrecognizable.

Chapter 32

Zara

There's a huge difference between committing to a decision and being happy with the decision being made.

I don't even like it here in East Tennessee. There's too much traffic, too many people. I can't even make a quick trip to the grocery store without getting frustrated by being stuck in traffic, but I also don't feel this overwhelming delight in knowing tomorrow I'll have put this place and all of its problems literally in my rearview mirror as I drive out of town.

I wasn't worried about the mountain roads until he mentioned being safe on them, and since then, all I could picture was me taking a curve too sharply and ending up tumbling down the mountain inside my car.

It's my last night in this house, and although I know I can't stay, I seem to be searching for reasons as to why I should, and even when I come up completely empty, totally void of any pros of staying here, I still feel an overabundance of sadness with the idea of leaving.

I know it has everything to do with him, and I hate myself more than a little because of it. A couple of rolls in the hay, some intense orgasms, and the less than handful of smiles I was able to pull from him shouldn't have me thinking of upending my entire life. I should have seen what was right in front of my face, knowing it was enough to make any sane person run right down this mountain and not stop until I met the mountains on the other side of the United States.

I towel dry my head, hating that I was so thorough in clearing out the bathroom cabinet that I already packed my blow-dryer. I dry it as best I can before hanging the towel on the rack, wondering if it will be fully dry by the time I've told myself I'll leave in the morning. I know I'm just looking for one more reason to stick around a little longer, the idea that he may come back one more time on replay in my head.

I commit to leaving the damp towel here if it's not dry when I wake up before combing through my still-damp hair and leaving the bathroom.

The bedroom is empty, so I don't even bother to walk in that direction. I've cleared nearly everything out of the house.

I head straight to the tiny kitchen for a glass of water, reusing the plastic cup I got at lunch earlier in the day from a fast-food restaurant because everything from the cupboards is also packed and in the little U-Haul trailer.

Despair begins to settle inside of me as I carry the glass of water to the couch and place it beside it, knowing it would be just my luck if the damn thing gets knocked over at some point because the side table is already loaded up.

I sit on the couch, making sure the sheet and blanket are ready for when I lie down, but they both feel like sandpaper on the tips of my fingers, despite them being the very same sheet and blanket I've been using since I arrived here.

It seems everything that could possibly get on my nerves is going to do so, and as I lie back and stare at the ceiling, I try and convince myself that it's my situation that's annoying the hell out of me. I pull the sheet and blanket over my body and let my eyes flutter closed as I tell myself everything will be better once I hit the Arkansas state border.

My eyes pop back open so I can reach for my phone and make sure my alarm is set for as soon as the sun is predicted to rise. I need to get out of here before I let anything else convince me that sticking around would be a better decision. I'm already going to have to fight the urge to turn down the road that leads to his house on my way out of town. Hours ago, I thought that would be easy. I said my goodbye earlier when he was standing on my porch and trying to manipulate me further, but as the evening dragged on, I realized I wanted him to beg me to stay. That's what will make it a true test of my strength once I come to the four-way stop, right taking me to his house, and left carrying me to the interstate to leave the state.

Maybe the ocean would be better. I don't have any concrete plans, and the Atlantic Ocean is much closer than the Rocky Mountains. My dream of living in a cabin in the mountains was from when I was a girl, and maybe as a woman now it's time to give that up. Clinging to the past and what could've been kept me in a marriage longer than it ever should have. Thinking a man would be able to give me what I deserved kept me here tonight rather than leaving yesterday. I know I need to stop dragging my feet, and I will. As soon as the sun rises, I'll throw my middle finger to this entire state, and I don't have to make the decision on where my next adventure will lead me until I get to the interstate.

Somehow, I manage to fall asleep, but it feels as if only minutes have passed when an unusual noise makes my eyes snap open. Living in the woods was something that took getting used to over the last couple of months, but I did grow accustomed to knowing that there are living things that patrol around the house in the darkness.

I don't know why whatever the sound was scares me, but my first thought is about where I put my gun. For the life of me, I can't remember. I think I locked it in my glovebox. I said goodbye to both of the dangerous men in my life, and while the sun was shining I no longer felt the need for it.

I feel utterly stupid for not having it right beside me, and all I can think about is being stupid for still being here.

Earlier in the day I pulled up a map on my laptop of the entire United States. I closed my eyes and pointed my finger. If I were to go by that I'd be heading to Nebraska in the morning, but I'd decided that wasn't far enough away. If I'd kept to that decision maybe I would've left sooner. Maybe I wouldn't be clinging to the blanket under my chin, wondering if I was going to die because I delayed leaving.

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