Page 43 of Sunshine & Sinful

A tooth rug you’d expect to find in a dentist’s office covers old, unfinished floorboards. On the ground besideit are folders—stacks of folders. My eyes drift up. There it is, what I came here for. What I’ve been curious about all along. On three separate walls are pictures, and not just any pictures—pictures of me. Candid photos. Private photos. Ones you’d expect a stalker or a private investigator to capture.

There are hundreds of them.

Some are layered on top of others. Some are pinned into the board beneath with thumbtacks, some are stapled, and others are taped.

Beneath them is a…

A strangled sound leeches out of my throat. Eyes widening, I cover my mouth and swallow, trying not to puke.

There’s a trash can full of crumpled tissue. If you’re a mother of sons, you know what those are. You’ve cleaned them from your bins over the years.

And it’s full.

So, very full…

Like it’s been pushed down.

Three discarded tissue boxes lie beside it. Stacked neatly.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try and fail to wash the memory from my brain. But it’s there, painted across the back of my eyelids. Pictures of me. The trash can. The rug and the folders.

A shiver of disgust, of… stupidity, ripples down my arms, through my center, and down my legs.

When you’re stalked, you don’t think it’d lead to this. At least I didn’t. I guess I didn’t think much of it at all. How dumb of me not to consider the consequences.

I grew up with a mother who drew attention. Every place we ever stopped long enough to make friends, there was a man or two who’d follow her around like a puppy, wanting her, but she rarely paid them any mind. Well, maybe she did, but I never saw it. Those same men, we’d use that notebook in our van and concoct our next potion. That’s what she called it. Like we were witches, casting a spell when we were killing anyone she deemed appropriate.

They’d show up at night, knocking on our van door, wanting to speak to her. I never understood why, and I still don’t. Sure, my mother was beautiful—worldly even. There was this air about her, this confidence, a grace that drew people in like a moth to a flame. I always watched her from afar and studied how she acted around people. She was kind and smiled often. You’d never suspect she’d hurt a fly, let alone end a life.

How silly is it of me to assume these men who came into my bar were the same—men who took a genuine liking to me? When they didn’t. Not really. It’s obvious this is who they worked for. Anthony. A man I accepted into my home at my most vulnerable time. When the most important men in my life were gone.

I’m… stupid.

And what’s worse, he’s even dumber. Thinking he could get away with this forever. That I wouldn’t catch on. What was the end game? To kill me? To marry me? To kidnap me? What?

A dark head pops up from the stairs like a mouse looking for cheese. “What’d ya find, babe?”

Stepping to the wayside to give Dark a clear view of the wall, I sweep my hand toward the evidence.

His nose wrinkles in disgust. “Shit.”

“Yep.” I point to a particular photo of my bare chest. One of those nosy stalkers somehow got a peek through a bathroom window when I was showering. There I am, in all my naked glory. “Titties,” I explain for no real reason than to say it aloud, to cement the fact that I’m, in fact, in an attic, seeing this in real-time.

“Babe. We’ll burn it to the ground. Don’t you worry. But why don’t you come down here so we can talk.” Dark double knocks on the wooden floorboards and waves me forward.

“So you can tell me about Penelope?”

Wincing at my words, Dark’s eyes squeeze shut for half a beat. “Yeah. Her.”

“Is she another one of your women?” I cross both arms under my breasts and wait for his reply.

“Yes.” He sighs like he wants to talk about anything but another woman. I get it. I don’t want to discuss this crap any more than he does.

“Who also doesn’t like me,” I throw out.

“There’s no reason for them not to like you, babe. You’re perfect.”

“And you saying that proves the point. Doesn’t it? Now, who’s Penelope?” I tap my foot on the ground.

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