Page 107 of Lamb

Anna’s gaze flickered between my eyes. “I …” She frowned for a second before shaking it away. “I don’t know.”

My world crumbled beneath my feet. The tiny piece of her I had held onto all this time turned to dust between my fingers.

This is what you have done. You burned this bridge. You caused this. She hates you. No … less than hate. She does not even care anymore. You are nothing to her. And it is all your fault.

Anna’s footsteps jolted through the growing static of my brain.

“I will leave,” I belted, my body lunging forwards to block her path.

Promise not to look for me.

“Give me the word, and you will never see me again.”

Please do not walk away from me.

You walked away first.

“Do what you want.” Anna shrugged, not looking back. She swung open the door, her boots crossing the threshold as she walked away.

She was gone.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

LAMB

Her steps were subtle and light, passing over the old, creaky floorboards without even a whisper of a sound. She stopped a pace away from where I lingered, my back pressed against the wall where I had waited and listened.

I pushed away, letting my eyes rise to her familiar face. The dark hallway hid her features in shadow, and even with keen eyes, I could parse little from it.

“Have you seen Ash?” I kept my tone even.

Anna turned slowly. “Outside,” she answered with little to no emotion. Her boots picked up, and she brushed past me, her skin cold as she grazed my arm.

I shouldn’t ask.

“Business or personal?”

I stopped Anna in her tracks. Her shoulders stiffened, and a frown tightened her delicate features as she turned to look at me over her shoulder. “What?”

“You and Ash,” I pressed. “Is it business, or is it personal?”

Recognition fluttered over her face, remembering the question she’d asked me at the club threshold only a few days prior.

Anna turned away, her rigid posture dropping slack as a deep, aged sigh fell from her lips. “Business,” she said. “There’s nothing personal.”

At first, there had been a mix of pain and grief. Or perhaps it had been hurt and betrayal. It all flickered away so fast I couldn’t get a quick enough read. Now, little emotion remained at all.

A soft mumble beneath her breath almost passed me by as she turned away and walked away.

“Not anymore.”

My eyes chased the dark shadows of the empty hallway for a moment or two, the image of her walking away lingering in my mind. I turned toward the open doorway, leaving the thoughts to dissipate as a cold breeze cut across my skin and the soft glow of amber light filtered through the dark.

Ash’s brown hair was tangled in the breeze, sweeping down like a mourning veil. Her knees were collapsed into the earth, hands tightened around fistfuls of grass as her head hung from her shoulders. If not for the movement of her hair and clothes, I’d have thought someone had captured her likeness in stone. Even the subtle motions of her chest rising and falling were negligible.

Between the gusts, I glimpsed her face as I crouched down next to her, but it wasn’t enough for someone like me to work out the subtle complexities moving there.

Time passed, and she didn’t move. Neither did I. I just waited while the blood pooled in my feet and goosebumps ran along my skin until it felt like sunrise would be creeping around the corner.

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