Page 71 of Lust

“He did.”

He looks at me, expecting me to elaborate. “And?” he presses when I don’t respond.

“And it’s a farmhouse with several outbuildings and no neighbours for a couple of miles. The perfect fucking spot.” I explain to Blake that Oz sent me blueprints for the original farmhouse, but he said it’s undergone some renovation in the last two years by the now owners; a family with a teenage daughter.

“Jesus Christ! And this family, they alive?” he asks, but I nudge him as I spot Sydney exiting the toilets.

“Later,” I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for him to hear, a second before she reaches us. “All set?” I ask, plastering a fake as fuck smile on my face.

She nods and takes the cup Blake is holding out to her. “Thank you.” Then he hands her the box. “What’s this?”

“You’ll see,” he says before walking ahead of us.

With no spare hand to take a peek, she lifts the box to her nose and smells. “Hmmm, something lemony. My favourite.”

Blake is waiting for us when get back to the car. “Go any slower and you’ll stop. Chuck me the keys, and I’ll drive the rest of the way,” he says, holding up his hand for the keys, which I pull from my pocket and toss to him. He catches them with ease and climbs into the driver’s side.

We rejoin the motorway happy to see that most of the traffic has eased now.

“Oh…my…god, this is delicious,” Sydney moans from the back seat as she eats the lemon tart Blake got her. “You are forgiven,” she tells him.

“Is that so…”

I tune out their banter as my mind wanders to Blake’s questions about the family. From what Oz has been able to find out, the father has been seen in town a few times, but there’s been no sign of the mother or daughter. According to Oz, anyone who’s asked after them has been told they’ve gone on a girl’s holiday.

If you believe that, you’re a fucking idiot.

I feel sick at the thought of what JC’s been doing to them both for the last few weeks or so. And those thoughts now extend to what he’s got planned and what he’ll do to Sydney if he gets his hands on her.

I drop my head back against the headrest and close my eyes, trying to ease my anxiety.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

SYDNEY

The lemon tart and coffee Blake bought are exactly what I needed, but the pleasurable feelings they induced don’t last long. Vanishing completely as we leave the main roads behind and join a small country lane.

I try to imagine Pa growing up here, but even that thought is marred with thoughts of what awaits us at JC’s house.

“Do his parents still live here?” I ask, trying to get either of them to give me some information, which has been in short supply.

“No, his parents sold up and moved away after his apparent death,” Roman says, and I note aI don’t want to talk about thisto his tone.

“Okay, so who lives here now?” The instant the question leaves my mouth, I know the answer.

Blake catches my gaze in the rearview mirror. “A family…with a teenage daughter.”

“No!” I exclaim, shifting forwards, poking my head between the seats to look at Roman. “Please tell me they aren’t dead or hurt,” I plead, but his momentary silence is answer enough.

“We don’t know for sure,” he finally says.

I flop back against the seat, looking out the window and scanning the beautiful dusk painted landscape. How can we live in such a bewitching world filled with monstrous people? How can God have created this only to allow it to be corrupted by suck wickedness?

My thoughts are halted when Blake turns the headlights off, plunging us into darkness. We turn down a small dirt track surrounded on both sides by barren fields, which in the summer I imagine are filled with crops.

There’s a passing place about halfway down, and Blake pulls over, cutting the engine.

“Why are we stopping?” I ask, and even I know it’s a ridiculous question.

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