Page 51 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer
“If anyone messes with Jaq again…”
I loop my arm through hers. “Then we will handle it together,” I say. “With words. With witnesses. With every boring grown-up method I can weaponize. And if that doesn’t work?—”
Jill grins. “We have options?”
I squeeze her arm. “We have options.”
Even murder is an option.
twenty-five
. . .
Noah
I pullup to Elle’s house, the familiar sight of the manicured lawn and dark shutters stirring a mix of nostalgia and frustration within me. The sun is high, casting a warm glow over everything, but it feels like a spotlight on the tension brewing inside me. I’ve been back in town for less than 72-hours, and already I’m tangled in a web of old memories and unresolved feelings with the weight of unfinished business pressing down on me.
I step out of my SUV and glance around, half-expecting to see her emerge from the front door with that easy smile that always makes my heart race. The gravel crunches underfoot as I make my way to the front door. I hesitate for a moment, my hand hovering over the doorbell. What am I even going to say? “Hey, Elle, I saw you at Doug’s truck this morning. Care to explain?” It sounds accusatory, and that’s not what I want. But I need answers, and I need them now.
I knock, the sound echoing in the stillness. No answer. I knock again, a little harder this time, impatience creeping in. I glance around, half-expecting to see Elle’s car pull into the driveway, but it’s just me and the quiet.
After a moment, I hear footsteps approaching from inside. The door swings open, revealing Amy, her hair a wild mess and her eyes wide with surprise. “Noah! What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to Elle,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady. “Is she home?”
Amy glances over my shoulder as if expecting Elle to appear any second. “Uh, no. She’s… out running errands. You know how she is.”
“Errands?” I repeat, skepticism creeping into my voice.
“Yeah! You know, grocery shopping and stuff,” she replies too quickly, her smile a little too bright. “She’ll be back soon.”
“Amy.” I warn.
She rolls her eyes at me. “Look, do you still love her?”
“With everything I am,” I say honestly.
“Why are you in Santa Luna?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest.
“To get her back,” I say. “And my kids. I want my family with me.”
“You fucked up, Noah.”
You don’t know the half of it, Ames.
“I know.” I sigh heavily and run a hand through my hair. “Look, can I come in my house? It’s hot as fuck out here.”
“It’s not exactly your house,” she replies.
“I still pay the mortgage,” I argue, feeling a hint of defensiveness creeping in.
“Well, yeah, so your family has a place to live,” Amy says, her voice softening just a bit.
“So, you admit they are my family,” I grin, trying to lighten the mood.
“Well, of course they’re your family, but when you gave them up, you gave up this house too,” she counters, her tone firm.
“I didn’t give them up.” I try to push past her to get inside, but she’s stronger than I remember and I’m not going to fight her on it, at least not physically.
