Page 50 of The Amendment

This time, everything was on the table. I knew Peter could get rid of the body, just like he had before.

I knew he could clean it up.

I knew we had a place to hide it until that time.

What I didn’t know was how both of us would hide our disappearance for any stretch of time, all while constructing some sort of alibi in case the police came around.

I wondered about the first time Peter killed someone.

Had he had these same fears?

I wanted him to trust that I was on board completely. I wanted him to trust me. That meant hiding my fears, my questions, and trusting that he could lead us through it.

Just last night, he’d suggested that maybe I should let him handle everything.

That couldn’t happen.

I was too invested. I needed to watch him die. I needed to see his pain after what he’d done to Maisy and her friends.

I shuddered to think it could be so much worse.

No, I had to prove it to Peter—and to myself—that I could handle it. All of it. This felt like my initiation. If I could pass the test, he’d finally let me all the way in.

Luckily, I’d always been a fan of tests and challenges. I could do this.

A knock on the door drew me out of my thoughts, and I glanced at the clock. It was just after eleven.

Peter should’ve still been dropping Dylan off. I didn’t expect him to be back home for the next hour.

I drained the last of the tea from my mug and stood from the table, making my way into the living room. I moved the curtain aside, peeking out the glass, and staring at the familiar face.

“Hello?” I asked as I opened the door. The man Peter had been talking to in the driveway just a few nights earlier stood in front of me. He was tall and blond, with a charming smile despite a single, silver tooth, and piercing eyes that shot straight through you. He was more handsome than Peter in the traditional sense—though I’d never admit that to him—but something felt cool about this stranger. As if something was missing inside of him.

A corner of his mouth upturned, and I spotted the rest of his nearly perfect white teeth. He shoved a hand inside his pocket, looking past me and into the house. “You must be the missus.”

I gripped the door. “I’m…Ainsley. You’re Peter’s friend, aren’t you? From work?”

“That’s me. Only, we go way back. I’m Jim.”

I held out a hand, ignoring the shiver of panic that shot through me. “Nice to meet you. Officially.”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” He sandwiched my hand between both of his, his skin lingering on mine for too long. Something lit up in his eyes, and I pulled back with a wave of apprehension gnawing at my insides. I held on to the door tighter. “Well, Peter’s not home right now. He should be back soon.”

He chuckled, his eyes lifeless and cold. “It’ll be a while, I’d say. He’s on his way to my place. About an hour outta town.”

Was that true? Peter hadn’t mentioned going anywhere but to Julie’s house.

“Oh,” I squeaked out. “Well, I was right in the middle of something. Maybe you could come back when he’s home…” I started to shut the door, but he shoved his boot inside, stopping me abruptly.

“Actually, I’m here to seeyou.”

“Me?” I rested a hand on my chest.

“Yes, ma’am.” He glanced behind him. “Mind if I come inside?”

My pulse quickened, beating erratically at the deep timbre of his voice. “Um…”

His boot was still forcing the door open with no sign of relenting. If I fought him, he’d force his way inside anyway. I stepped back, trying to appear gracious.

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