Page 37 of Drowning Her

Why did I want to struggle like that?

That rush fueled me, just like it charged him. I had never felt connected to anyone like I did with him.

The tunnel was dark. Light perspiration laced my skin, wrapping me in my own fear. It was late. I stepped along the railroad, then walked on the wooden slats until I was a quarter of a mile inside. I ducked into the first alcove, taking my corner. Soon, Wilder’s fingers fanned across the brick too, coming in behind me. He leaned against the wall. The dim light from the end of the tunnel illuminated him in dim strokes. Energy hummed between us.

This was my safe place. When the call to danger and everything bad inside of me surfaced, where I could be alone, where I could be myself. Wilder sat in the dark next to me. We couldn’t see each other, but it felt like I was more exposed than I had ever been.

“You always come here,” Wilder said. I blinked my eyes at the shadow of his form. I hadn’t come here in ages, since before we were married. Had he been watching me? “Why?”

“Maybe I’m haunting this place,” I said sarcastically. That’s what my mother used to tell me, that I was like a ghost who couldn’t find peace. A lonely, guilty piece of trash who would only see glimmers of the sun. I peered down the tunnel at the opening, at the deep blue night. “Maybe I died here.”

Wilder sighed deeply. Heat flowered in my cheeks. What did that sigh mean?

“I’m asking you a question. Showing an interest in you.Like you asked from me,” he said. “Give me a straight answer.”

My cheeks burned. I had forgotten about that. In the beginning, I had wanted to know anything and everything about him.Don’t you want to get to know each other before we do this?I had asked, somehow thinking it might give me an advantage over him. But it had made me more curious. Made me want to understand him. Now I knew more than I could imagine, and he wanted to know more about me.

But I hadn’t told anyone about this place, not since it had happened. How could I find the words?

“I used to come here with my little sister,” I mumbled. “Racing. Playing chase. Daredevil stuff.”

“Bambi?” he asked.

Bambi and I weren’t related. She was like a sister to me, but she wasn’t my sister.

“You don’t have a little sister,” he said.

A beat of silence passed, then the air shifted between us. He had figured it out, then. It was easier to pretend like she didn’t exist. Easier for my parents. Easier for me. It was even easier for my big sister, Fiona. That way, there was no one to blame. But it never left us. My little sister was always there, her memory reminding me it was my fault. That I could have stopped it. And that maybe I deserved whatever came to take me with her. I would never make up for what had happened.

I tucked my hair behind my ear. Wilder’s dark form was shapeless, but I knew he was looking at me. Trying to figure me out.

“By the pond,” I said, changing the subject. “Who was that, anyway?”

“A livestock order.”

And so we were back to our simple answers. At least he was honest.

“I get that,” I said. “But who?Whowas she?”

“Eileen Hathaway.”

That name didn’t mean anything to me. And I had this feeling that her name didn’t mean anything to him either.

“Who ordered the kill?” I asked.

“A friend of my father’s.”

My spine tingled at those words. “What did she do?”

“I don’t ask questions,” Wilder said. “It’s not up to me to decide whether they deserve to die.”

In a way, I respected that. He didn’t ask questions because he didn’t believe he was any better than the people he was killing. He fulfilled his orders, his duty, and did exactly what he was trained to do. His brother, Sawyer, had judgments and was convinced that I was a bad influence on Wilder. And maybe I was. Maybe if Wilder actually listened to his brother, I would have paid for my betrayals a long time ago.

“You saved me from your brother,” I said. “Why?”

He scoffed. “Don’t ask questions you know the answer to.”

“But I don’t know.”

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