Page 59 of Home Changes
“Talk to me,” Sarah said, and Seth laid it out for her.
“Okay. I’ll make some calls. Gramma and Grandpa Miles should be okay with watching thegirls for a week or two if you need me to stay longer. I have to put things in order. I’ll be there tomorrow night.”
“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. He is a cranky old fart, but I love him, and I told you we’d share the responsibility of taking care of him.” Sarah huffed. “I’ll see you late afternoon or early evening tomorrow. Do I need to bring anything?”
“A pillow and some linens, and blankets for your bed.” He hadn’t gotten around to ordering anything for the other rooms. He and Chester were set, though.
Sarah chuckled. “I can do that. I haven’t slept in a twin bed in years. I’ll see you soon.” The line went dead.
Seth glanced down at Allison. “Sarah’s coming so I can focus on you and Lottie.”
“I’d feel better if you were here with us at night.”
“Starting tomorrow night, I will be.” He wanted that fucker. It was the most basic feeling. If anything happened to Allison, he’d fucking go insane. What they had was new, but it was something he’d kill to protect. Feral didn’t come close to the primal sensations that flowed through him. He would protect Allison. He wouldn’t fail.
CHAPTER 19
Seven motherfucking weeks since he’d come home to find her gone. Seven weeks of rage at the audacity of the fucking little bitch. Eric had let that rage settle into a specific plan of action. He had been tracking that slut with her watch, but it went dead right here. In Hollister. The bitch had probably let it run out of power. But he figured she’d charge it back up. She hadn’t. So, he did what he thought she would do. He went to her aunt’s in North Dakota. That was a waste of time.
He'd taken as much vacation from work as he could. Then that bitch made him quit a good paying job to find her. Whatever. He’d find her, and she’d pay. His knuckles cracked as he gripped the steering wheel. For over two weeks, he’d parked down theblock from her aunt’s house in Fargo. Two weeks of watching the front porch, the back alley, and the curtains at night. Nothing. Not a shadow. Not a whisper of her.
He'd waited. He'd followed deliveries. He meticulously tracked her aunt to church, the grocery, and even a hair appointment.
Loretta never showed.
Which meant she’dlied.
Which meant she knew exactly what she was doing when she ran. She’d had a plan, and she was laughing at him now. Laughing because she’d played him.
His jaw flexed, slow and tight. His hand curled into a fist on the worn leather of the steering wheel.
He couldn’t forgive her for making him look like a fool. No. That had to be corrected.
The truck engine ticked as it cooled, the only sound in the otherwise dead parking lot of the Bit and Spur. No cars. No lights. The bar was closed. It was too early even for the drunks and the drifters, and that was why he liked it. The parking lot was roped off, and the building was decorated. Obviously, a big party was happening soon. What the fuck ever. He would be gone as soon as he found her.
Eric sat behind the wheel of the Silverado,watching the sleepy town of Hollister across the highway like a hunter waiting for a twitch in the grass.
So small. So smug. The little Main Street was lit by a string of old-fashioned lamps, one or two flickering yellow against the lingering darkness. A bakery light glowed like a beacon down the street. He’d been there before. He stared at it the longest. Her watch had pinpointed that building. But the business was closed. It closed at two, and when he was there, it was two-thirty.
Loretta was there. He could feel it. He’d followed the trail of her smart watch. He’d enabled that tracker on the watch before giving it to her.
Eric smiled coldly. The last ping from her watch was smack dab in the middle of this town. It might not have been the bakery, but she was close. He knew it. Then it went dark. But not before it gave him a place to come back to, after he returned to the house and gathered a few things. He even went back to North Dakota, not believing the bitch was smart enough to go somewhere else. But once again, he couldn’t find her. He’d even broken into the fucking house when the aunt had left for church. Nothing. No clothes, no extra things that indicated another person was in the house. He’d left a message, though.He’d trashed that house and taken out his anger on every possession that old woman had. It had been therapeutic and dulled his rage. That was how he’d devised the plan of watching the sleepy little town. She wouldn’t say shit. She knew he’d kill her if she did. So, he only needed to wait, watch, and be invisible.
He reached for the coffee he’d bought an hour ago from the diner and took a slow sip. It was damn good, but taste didn’t matter. What mattered was that Hollister felt … soft.
Too few buildings. Too many open spaces. These were the kinds of places where people left doors unlocked and assumed their secrets were safe. He could already picture it. The look on her face when she saw him again. Shock, then maybe terror. Oh, then … yeah, then that empty look of resignation she always gave him when she knew she’d gone too far.
He missed that look. It was his favorite. The one he loved the most. Just before the first strike. That was the best. He craved that look and that feeling of his fist against her body. The rest of the blows didn’t give him that high, but her small cries got him to the point where he could stop and go jack off. She always got him to that point. Others hadn’t.
And the bitch thought she’d gotten away. He’dtaught her better than that. She would leave him when she was dead. Not before.
Eric’s eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, scanning the empty lot again. He hadn’t parked facing the street. That was amateur stuff. Park at an angle where his plate couldn’t be seen from the highway. He wasn't stupid.
He’d give this town more time. Just watch. Map out the comings and goings. Who went where? What businesses opened early? What buildings had upstairs windows? There weren’t many.
Then he’d move. He’d start at the building where he lost her signal. And locked doors wouldn’t stop him this time.
