Page 168 of Property of Necro
Slumping my shoulders, wind officially knocked out of my sails, I pout. “It’s a working idea. That’s all.”
“I love how you’re thinkin’ about the town’s future. That means you plan on stayin’…”
Excuse me. What?
I squint up at him. “Of course, I am. You drugged me and kidnapped me to bring me home.” I would have left before this had I wanted to leave.
“Home?” He grins, hopeful.
“Yes. Isn’t that what this is?” I sweep my hand, motioning to the town, the road, this place. “My home, too?”
“Yeah, Red.” Rot nods, dumbfounded, before he shakes his head and clears his throat. “Um. Yeah. Yeah. It is. It’s… fuck…” The handsome man’s entire face lights up. “It’s damn nice hearin’ you say that.” His fingers dig into my side.
Turning to face him, I rest my chin on Rot’s sternum, wrinkle my nose, and make a gagging sound as I do my best not to smile. “Ew. You’re getting emotional.”
He tucks a strand of flyaway hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Well. So is Necro.” Rot juts his chin at one of the street security cameras.
“You think he’s watching us?” I whisper.
“I know he is.”
Turning to one of the cameras, I wave and blow him a kiss.
Rot chuckles. “You’re fuckin’ adorable, you know that?”
“What I know is I want this town to be a lot less sad and empty. It needs life. It needs love,” I sing, twirling on the sidewalk, squinting up at the bright, blue sky, soaking in all its rays.
“With you here, it’s already a whole lot better. Now, let’s get you home. I’ve got something to show you.” Pulling his phone from his pocket, Rot reads the screen and puts it away. “It’s ready.”
I stop spinning. “What’s ready?”
“You’ll see. Come on.”
Looping my arm through his, Rot and I take the scenic route back to the church, through the empty streets with overgrown grass, weeds, and cracked sidewalks. My mind whirls with so many ideas of how to help this place and women. To give them a house to call home. To settle down.To feel safe for once in their life. Away from men like my uncle and Ted. To flourish.
Gah!
I can see it.
Stopping in front of a green single-story with grimy, white shutters and a brown shingled roof with moss growing down the sides, I lift my nose and smell the garlic bread she’d bake in the oven. Sure, the exterior could use a power wash, and the steps need to be patched. The front door needs a new screen, as it’s ripped, flapping in the gentle breeze. But it’s homey.
Rot stands next to me as I imagine what could be and start wishing it into existence. To manifest it. I think that’s what Kali calls it.
A rocking chair on the porch, and Christmas decorations in the winter. Maybe a white car parked in the driveway. No. Not white. Blue. A sedan with four doors.
After surviving the worst, she’d love it here.
She’d appreciate the slow pace—the protection.
They could offer her that.
The Kings of Anarchy. The men of Kings Cursed.
Rot checks his phone a second time, but doesn’t rush me. We don’t speak on the rest of our stroll up the hill and back to the church.
Coffin and Necro are on the front steps when we arrive. It’s broad daylight. Sure, it’s cloudy, but the sun is still out and… Necro. Why is he outside?
“Took you long enough,” my brutish blond grumbles.
