Page 19 of The Amendment

In the space I’d reserved only for myself and the most special of my victims.

He looked around, letting out a whistle. “I forgot how nice this place was.”

“You can put that over here,” I said, pointing to the corner farthest from where I’d once hidden my bag. The left side of the room was mostly bare, just a small tarp wadded up in the corner, a hose, and the drain.

He placed the bag on the ground next to the tarp, looking around with a long, drawn-out inhale.

“How long do you need me to keep it?”

“A few days,” he said. “A week, maybe two. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to pick it up.”

“And you’re not going to tell me what’s in it?” I could always just open it when he left.

“Nope. And I’d suggest you don’t look in it.” He stalked past me, then turned around and stared in my direction, his face cloaked in shadows. “Curiosity killed the cat, ’n all.”

I nodded. “I won’t touch it. Just…let me know when you’re ready for it.”

“Will do.” He pulled the truck keys from his pocket and twirled them around his finger, still not moving.

“And you’re going to keep all of this quiet, right?”

“All this?” He seemed confused. “The room, you mean?”

“Mhm.”

“Relax, Peter. Your secrets have always been safe with me.” His hand gripped my shoulder suddenly, making me flinch. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” His eyes drilled into mine, my skin crawling. “Same as before.”

Suddenly, I was flashing back to that night.

Stupid.

Vulnerable.

Weak.

With Jim, I’d always be the Peter from that night.

Visions flashed through my head—the blood, the woods where we’d buried her, the way he’d laughed afterward.

I was terrified, but also intrigued…

I’d wanted to be him.

In some sick way, I guess I still did.

“We should probably go. I don’t want Ainsley to wake up.”

He released my shoulder with a stiff nod. “Understood.” With that, he backed away slowly, the sole of his boot sliding against the concrete floor.

Once we’d made it out of the room and I’d secured it closed, he crossed the garage, reaching for the door with one final wave over his head. “Thanks again, Greenburg.”

“You bet,” I said, as if this were an everyday favor.

When he shut the door, I waited silently, listening for the truck to start up. Once it had, once I’d heard it backing down the long drive, I breathed a sigh of relief.

There. That’s done.

When I opened the door to go back inside, Ainsley was standing in the hallway, her arms crossed in front of her chest. My body tensed as I tried to come up with a lie.

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