Page 52 of The Deadly Candies

How good she felt. How much he missed her. How much he loved her.

Brenda forced a small smile, humming a response as she slid out from under him.

She needed space. Air. The sacrifice was too much all of a sudden. Giving him everything, body, love, heart, with no room to ask for anything in return.

She would escape to the bathroom, but Henry caught her wrist just as she reached the edge of the bed.

“Sorry, baby,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. “Didn’t mean to spill seed in you. I was just… just so excited to have you back in our bed.”

Brenda’s stomach twisted.

She turned to him, masking her true feelings behind a tender expression. She stroked his cheek gently.

“I never left you, Henry,” she whispered. “I love you. I’m always here.”

It was a lie, but one he needed to believe.

Satisfied, Henry smiled and released her hand, stretching lazily across the bed.

“Hey,” he said, voice still husky from sleep. “I was thinkin’… why don’t we go back home to Butts for Christmas?”

Brenda froze.

Her heart skipped a beat, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Mississippi.

Christmas was four months away, and she had spent every single one of the past seven months carefully crafting a plan to bring Kathy home.

This morning’slovemakinghad been six months in the making—six months of denying him, of letting grief stand between them. And now, here he was, grinning up at her like a fool, thinking a trip back to Mississippi was what her heart desired.

Brenda swallowed the white-hot anger rising in her chest, forcing a patient smile.

Henry’s grin faltered slightly.

“Let’s talk about it some more, okay?” she murmured, smoothing out her robe. “I need to get your breakfast ready.”

She turned toward the door.

“Brenda?”

She paused.

One hand rested on the doorknob, fingers trembling just slightly.

She didn’t look back.

“I missed us.”

“Me too, sweetie,” she said and left the room.

17

Butts, Mississippi – August 1949

“Let me look at you,” Aunt Janey murmured, her smile warm as she cupped Kathy’s face in her hands.

Kathystilled beneath her touch, blinking up at the woman who looked so much like her mother that itstung. The shape of her eyes, the soft curve of her cheeks, even the way she tilted her head—it was like Brenda in the flesh, only younger, livelier. And Lord, even her smile was the same.

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