Page 2 of Peach

He marched around to the back of the property, grumbling about the long grass and the overgrown bushes. He glanced up and noticed that the limbs of one tree were touching the shingles. Then he saw the chipping paint onthe shutters. Guilt filled him. He should have come back and made sure everything was okay with his parents.

As he rounded the corner into the backyard, he spied the offensive door swinging in the wind. The sound was louder, sending stabbing pain through his skull. He stalked over, not really looking where he was going. As he reached for the door, he looked down and had to jump back. He'd made a stupid mistake. Though housing communities surrounded the area, choking out the peace, this land still belonged to the wild.

Peach backed up, letting the snake he’d disturbed slither away. Had his parents even been here recently? It seemed like a lot of things were wrong. He fully well knew he should have called or contacted them. What had been going on in their lives that his father would have let everything go?

Carefully, Peach made his way over to the shed and secured the door. He would look in the shed later, or maybe he would hire someone to clean it out. The snake had turned him off. On missions in jungles or deserts, he could deal with wild animals, but here, it felt different. This house was a place he'd felt safe, protected from the dangers of the world. But now he didn’t know what to think about it. The calming effect of the house was gone with his mother. Maybe it had never been the house, but the home his mother had made.

Something weird twisted through him and made him think he'd been doing dating all wrong. No question, he liked wild women who didn't see a problem with having sex, maybe even before he knew their name. Thoughts of his buddies and their women surfaced, and he pushed it away. He wouldn't get tied down. He didn't want someone asking about his deep thoughts or making him check-in. No one needed to know him that well.

After finishing his trek around the property, he opened the garage door, shined a flashlight in, and determined there were no snakes in this space. With the flashlight off, he stepped into the space and let his eyes adjust.

The area was clean, which surprised him after seeing how bad the yard looked. What had his parents really been doing? When he’d received word that they’d passed away in Soledad, Colombia, he’d been shocked. Why had his parents even been to Colombia? They weren’t international travelers by nature. His dad preferred staying in the USA and had said so on multiple occasions. So why had they died in Colombia?

He wanted to go over and figure out what had happened, but someone from the embassy in Bogotá had looked into their death and told him it looked like an accident. It was hard for him to imagine them being in an accident that would kill them. Especially one overseas.

Peach stepped out from the garage and turned to look at the house, noticing one of the curtains moving. The hair on the back of his neck rose. Was someone in the house?

He hadn’t flown with any weapons because he’d decided to fly out at the last minute. His father had weapons inside, but he was outside. And someone or something was inside where the guns were located.

Peach moved closer to the back porch, wondering if he was making a mistake. He should go back to his rental car and call the sheriff’s office. Or he could take the easy way out and just leave and call a realtor to deal with everything. But he wasn’t into doing things the easy way.

He needed answers and believed his best bet in finding them was to look inside the house.

Peach moved close to the back door and stood silently, listening for any movement inside. There wasn't any. His heart picked up speed as he waited, trying to figure out ifhe'd seen something at the window or if his mind had been playing tricks on him.

“Get it together,” Peach said to himself as he fisted the key in his pocket and moved to unlock the door.

He stuffed the key in the lock and yelped as the doorknob was ripped from his hands as the door flew open.

“Who are you?” a tall woman with brown hair and sharp eyes asked. She wore a pair of sweats and a bulky sweatshirt over what looked to be a t-shirt. He couldn’t tell exactly.

“Who are you?” Peach demanded.

“I asked first. You’re breaking into my house.”

"Oh hell, you're inside my parents' house. This isn’t your house. You gotta go.”

Her eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned. "Liar."

Peach huffed out a breath, anger swirling deep. He wanted to reach in and pull her out. She was tall but thin. Her face looked gaunt, not like she was a drug addict, but she needed to gain some weight.

“I'm not lying. Now get your stuff and get out of my parents' house, or I'm calling the police."

Her pale face turned almost pure white as her eyes grew wide. “Your parents asked me to stay here. Call them. They'll tell you. They didn't say anything about you, though. Call them. They’ll tell you that they invited me to stay.”

Anger surged, and he clenched his fists. Maybe he moved a few inches toward her, maybe more than just a few inches before he screamed, “They’re dead!”

She flinched and stumbled back. He reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her steady. Her gaze slammed into his, showing a mixture of anger and fear.

He made sure she was steady before he let go. Shamefilled him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not myself.”

“They’re dead?” She stumbled away from the door and plopped down on one of the oak kitchen chairs that had been around when he was a kid.

There was no reason for Peach to stay outside, so he stepped into the house. He noticed the kitchen was clean, very clean. The countertops almost sparkled because they were so well wiped down. It was opposite from how the house looked from the outside.

Tears spilled down the woman's face, and he still didn't know her name. Did he comfort her or ignore her? He wasn’t on a mission, so there was no reason to kneel beside her and get her to talk. But she shouldn’t be here. His parents hadn’t said anything about it. Then again, he hadn’t talked to them recently.

She needed to leave. He should find a way to get her out the door and on her way. No way would he call the cops, not now. This woman really was upset. The tears weren’t fake at all. She’d known his parents.

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