Page 101 of Wicked Sins

We’ll talk this out.

Things can go back to normal.

I turn my car’s ignition, and my eyes slide back to the house.

What if normal isn’t an option anymore?

* * *

There wasa traffic jam en route to the coffee shop. Some idiot took out a traffic light last night, and now the road’s backed up. I almost turn around, but I’m intent on getting that coffee. I get like this sometimes, like I’m stuck on a train track, and there’s no stopping until I’ve reached my destination.

When I finally get back home, the house is silent as the fucking grave. Emma’s grave, I guess, since there probably hasn’t been enough time for insects and shit to start burrowing through her coffin, hunting for her putrefying flesh.

I leave Candy’s coffee and the confections in the kitchen until I’ve tracked her down. My search takes me to the second-floor landing, but instead of heading straight for Candy’s door, I pause in front of Emma’s.

What Dad had said keeps playing on repeat.

Discrepancies.

I slowly push open Emma’s door.

Just like it was yesterday. Utterly pristine and lifeless.

Autopsy.

I thought autopsies were only done if there was some criminal aspect to a person’s death. I mean, I know I’d said a lot of shit at the funeral, but I think the worst Dad could be accused of was negligence, right?

I walk over to the side of her bed and switch on her night lamp. Its warm yellow light glows brighter than normal on this darkly overcast day.

Thump.

I jerk, my teeth clicking together.

The fuck?

Thump, thump.

In the breathless moment that follows, there’s a whistle from outside as a gust of wind buffets the house.

“Fuck.”

I was going to wait for Dad to come back and then tell him about the window, but the wind isn’t letting up, and I know for a fact it’s going to drive me insane if I keep hearing that shutter thumping.

Study’s locked though, and I sure as hell won’t be picking that lock. They make it look easy in movies, but I’ve tried it before. Might be more frustrating attempting that than just letting the window keep banging.

If only there was another way.

Chapter Forty-One

Candy

Itry to warm my hands on my cup of coffee, but the cold seems to be coming from inside. Joah left a few minutes ago, and now the house seems too big and empty around me.

I shrug my shoulders and take a sip of coffee as I head for the TV room. I stop halfway down the hall when a memory trickles into mind—

Joah’s lips brushing the side of my neck, his hot breath bringing out goosebumps all over my skin

—and turn on my heel and head back into the kitchen instead.

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