Page 56 of Moth to a Flame

To my woman.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Regan

We’re finally together, thefour of us. My family.

Our parents are here, visiting us in Brooklyn as they do once a month on a Saturday. Usually, we drop by our childhood home in Manhattan. Tonight, it’s our turn to host.

We’re all blissfully full from the Italian dinner Rosemary and I cooked, sitting in my living room in loungewear fitting for the weekend. Except Dad, who doesn’t leave his home in anything but jeans and one of his horror graphic T-shirts.

We’re laughing, talking, smiling.

Rosemary’s the one who’s cracking up the hardest when Mom tells us about a prank she pulled on Dad. Her laugh rolls from her freshly painted red lips.

Dad holds on to his large belly and Mom puts her almost empty wine glass on my coffee table.

And I’m here, happy with my family, curled up on my favorite armchair.

For a few hours, I too have forgotten about parole hearings and missing a dark and dangerous stalker with platinum-blond hair.

Lies.

I think about him so much. He’s intense and unhinged. He also told me I was his and promised me things that made me feel like I’d never felt before.

I don’t want to scare him off with a meet-the-parents this early. I definitely don’t want to stress my parents out by bringing home a stranger out of nowhere.

What do I even tell them?

Mom, Dad, meet the man who stalked me on the dating app and flirted with me by leaving me eyeballs on my doorstep? Oh, and by the way, I have these eyeballs in glass jars in one of my cupboards. No, I won’t get rid of them or hand them over to the cops. They’re from him. It’s kind of cute, isn’t it? These gifts from a complete stranger?

That won’t go well. Any of it. They’ll ask, at the very least, to hire people to vet him. I won’t let them.

Landon is the most normal thing that’s ever happened to me and I’m going to trust him.

I’m going to trust my gut. And Jigsaw.

God, I miss Landon. Can’t deny it any longer.

Dad points at Rosemary who’s just finished telling us about the latest book her romance book club discussed this month. “I have an idea. I’m finally ready to try writing romance.”

“Really?” All three of us ask him at the same time.

“Yes, really.” He nods, his voice lowering like it does when he’s about to tell one of his horror stories. This should be good. “A reality TV show on a stranded island. One woman chooses one man out of thirteen contestants.”

He pauses, giving each of us a meaningful look. Letting it sink in.

“You mean likeThe Bachelorette?” I offer.

“Regan, I’m offended.” His hand splays on his T-shirt. “You know me better than that. There’s more to it. She doesn’t choose them by who’s the most attractive or funny or smart. This show happens near the apocalypse. She has to choose someone with…”

Another loaded silence to keep all of us guessing.

“Cooper!” Mom isn’t holding on to me anymore, both her hands clutching at his arm. “The suspense is killing me. How does she choose?”

“Survival skills.” His eyes twinkle, and he rubs his palms together. “Each episode is another torture challenge. If they live, they make it to the next episode. If not…”

“And she’ll end up with just one person?” Rosemary isn’t laughing anymore. She rubs Mojo behind the ears absently from their place on the armchair next to Dad. “It just goes on forever until the rest die?”

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