Page 80 of Bake the Town Red

Nothing.

So how can I explain it to Yolanda?

I can’t.

“You missed out on something truly beautiful,” I say to her bones as I pack them and haul them away in the freezers. “The way my Tyler begged to stay, fuck. He hurt me. He’sa wounded person himself. But he hated it when I cried. He came back for me.”

The freezer door slams silently, and I wipe a thin layer of sweat from my brow.

“He loves me, Yo-Yo,” are my last words to the bag of bones. “He does.”

And I love him.

Kicking him out was the hardest thing I ever had to do. When he stormed into my apartment, I was that close to breaking down. That close to taking him back without putting up a fight.

He did promise me he’ll always be there. Admitted to his obsessive tendencies and the need to keep me safe at all costs.

It would’ve been so easy to let him into my bed and hope for the best.

But I could tell why he got up and left. His anxiety hit, and the bitch was a strong one.

I was stronger.

Iamstronger.

Scaring people is what I do. Every October for the last four years without fail. Right before I kill them.

Doing the same for his fear was my only remaining option. The only arsenal I had against it. The huge hole in my heart from when he’d walked out on me helped.

There were no guarantees that my approach would work. I’m young, not dumb. A person’s psyche doesn’t just getfixed.

My Tyler’s did. The second I went apeshit on him, his expression changed.

Still, I forced him out. Haven’t contacted him for the last three days. The time he spent in the doghouse hasn’t been a punishment, though. I didn’t need time to get over him having a change of heart, either.

They were meant to cement the lesson in his head.

A full timeout. I’ve been keeping my windows locked extra tight. Curtains drawn. When he tried to pick the lock yesterday, he failed. I smiled.

Did it work? I fucking wish.

What a life it would be. The two of us, finally together.

No fear.

No backing away.

Today, I say to myself, chuckling as I climb the stairs from the basement.Today, you’re mine, Tyler Price.

Fuck, I’ve missed him.

First things first, though. The neighborhood’s dogs are already fed for the night, but I have another dog to take care of.

Yolanda’s.

I head out of the bakery with Yolanda’s dog on a leash. This poor Pomeranian, Saint Laurent, is trotting at my side, no doubt glad to be rid of his neglectful owner.

She treated him as an afterthought. Or worse, a cover-up story. While she’d bang the guy across the street from my shop, SL was chained outside my shop. Winter, summer, didn’t matter to her. All that mattered was fucking the other man.

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