Page 90 of Burn With Me

Why does my body hurt?

Okay, Amelia, don’t panic. Let’s take stock of body parts.

I wiggle my fingers and toes to check, and everything is still there.

Okay, let’s try to stand up.

Attempting to stand, I feel something tug at my arms and legs.

Okay, I can’t stand up. What the fuck happened?

The last thing I remember is getting out of the Jeep at the farm, then disarming the alarm . . . then nothing.

Around me, I can hear the pumps cycling on and off, so I know I’m still at the farm. I hear a door close in the distance, voices, and then a door opening and closing.

Peeking through slitted eyes, I can tell I’m in the part of the farm that’s under construction.

“Good evening, Amelia.”

I fight a shiver . . . I know that voice. It’s the voice that haunted me for so long after I left DC.

“I know you’re awake, you stupid bitch. Open your eyes.”

As I open my eyes, a lifeless gaze glares back at me. It’s the man I saw at the store . . .

“Leo?” I work hard to keep my voice level.

His blue eyes, which once shone brightly, are now dull and bloodshot. He went from physically fit and one of the most put-together men I’ve ever seen to . . . a man who’s far too skinny, with greasy hair long enough to cover his eyes and a thick, full beard that looks like it hasn’t been trimmed in years.

He brushes my hair out of my face. “Aren’t you excited to see me, sweetie?”

Absolutely not.

I would rather see literally anyone else, but I can’t let him know that.

I look around to see if I can see who’s here with him, unless I imagined another voice.

“What’s going on, Leo? Why am I tied to a chair?”

“I need to make sure you hear me out, and I don’t trust you to not leave me again.”

I freeze at his statement.

His voice has an edge to it that makes me nervous.

Without breaking eye contact, I wiggle my hands to see if there’s any way I can slip out. “What do you want to talk about?”

“We were so good together, weren’t we, Amelia?” He walks around me, dragging his fingers over my shoulders.

Forcing myself not to move a muscle, I hesitate before answering. My gut is telling me that one wrong word will be the deciding factor in how this will go. I don’t know his angle. Hell, I don’t even know why he’s here.

“We had some very good memories, and I’ll treasure a lot of those memories forever.”

“Everything was perfect!” he yells, spittle hitting my face, and I fight back a gag from his breath that smells more like a liquor store than anything else. “I was up for a promotion! You were working a respectable job. Why did you leave me, Amelia? You ruined everything, and I told you I would make you pay!”

It all starts to click together. The fish randomly dying, the lock on the door here at the greenhouse. “Were you the one who was killing off my fish?” My eyes widen in surprise as I put the pieces together.

“Of course, it was me,” he says as he starts pacing.

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