Page 48 of Perdition
Realizing that she could actually smell the gas fumes from where she was standing, she also realized…this was real.
No going back.
By the end of the night, her hopes, dreams, and marriage would all be ashes.
And whether he was actually holding the matches or not, Frost was the one that set fire to it all.
“Thanks, Cluster,” Em rasped, emotion wrapping around her vocal cords.
Again, Cluster’s brow furrowed, this time with concern.
“You okay there, Em?” he inquired, his voice softer than she’d ever heard it. Yeah, this man would be one heck of an old man one day. “I know things with Prez haven’t been all that great lately, but that man loves the fuck outta you. Just be patient with him, yeah? It’ll all be good soon.”
Em didn’t have the heart to tell him that Frost had already FUBARed, and there wasn’t anything he or anyone else could do to stop the spiral of destruction.
This can’t be it…this can’t be the end.
She dragged her gaze from the worried looking Cluster to the pyre behind him, landing on that one, single log.
Mads loves Em 4-ever.
Irrevocable. Incurable. Irreversible.
Just like what Frost had done.
Are you sure Sarah wasn’t just talking shit? Maybe there’s an explanation….
God, that inner voice was so freaking desperate for the Madsen she’d fallen in love with to still be the man he was today.
But he wasn’t.
And she wasn’t that little girl anymore, either.
She was harder, emptier, scarier—with that chainsaw revving in her hands, she’d been terrified…and amplified, her emotions bigger, louder, uglier.
Gazing, once again, at Cluster, she finally answered, “I’ll be fine.”
Would she?
Heaving a sigh, she glanced at the pyre one more time, a silent goodbye to a tree she’d known since it was a sapling, green and so full of potential.
Like she’d been. Like their future had been.
She had to get out of there; she’d already pressed her luck, showing up where Frost might be. Thankfully, he wasn’t there.
Probably banging Sarah in her kennel.
Offering the Cluster a smile she didn’t feel, Em turned on her heel, walked back to her car, and headed toward the Wine & Spirits Store.
Maybe a night with the girls was just what she needed to forget…just for a little while.
Parking, Em grabbed her purse and strode purposefully through the door of the wine and booze store.
The air inside, surprisingly, didn’t smell like beer or liquor, but rather Lysol. She looked down, noticing the WET FLOOR sign. Apparently, they’d just mopped the floors.
Mentally, she told her feet to tread carefully, but her heart and tongue were urging her to grab the wine and get out.
She should have listened to her brain because the moment she stepped into the aisle with the sweet wines, her foot slipped out from under her, and she went down, squealing like a pig.
