Page 148 of A Smile Full of Lies
By the time I pulled into our neighborhood, night had descended on Stonewood, leaving everything dipped in darkness, held back only by the familiar glow of street lights.
My stomach twisted the second Knox’s house came into view. It should’ve felt like safety. But tonight, it felt like the last inhale before plunging into icy waters, far out of one’s depth.
I pulled into the driveway and just… sat there. Hands white-knuckling the steering wheel, headlights casting long shadows across the front porch like some kind of warning.
It wasn’t fear, not really. It was anticipation: gnawing and sharp and wrong in all the ways that made my skin buzz.
I knew he was home. His truck was parked crooked in the drive, like he’d come in hot. Like patience had stopped being part of the equation.
A light glowed faintly through the living room curtains. But there was no movement, no sound.
Still, I didn’t get out right away. I couldn’t.
Instead, I stared at my reflection in the rearview mirror — my face pale, eyes too wide. Christ my throat was dry.
The girl who’d left three weeks ago wasn’t the one coming back. And not just because of the scars or the weight loss or the constant ache behind my ribs.
Something had changed in me. Somethinghadto, for me just to survive.
I reached for the door handle and paused.
I knew I wasn’t walking into a warm welcome. Not tonight. Not with everything I’d done. Everything I’dhidden.
But I also knew I couldn’t delay it any longer.
He’d waited. He’d been patient for twenty-one days.
Now it was my turn.
With a shaky breath, I pushed the SUV’s door open and stepped out into the night. And the second my foot hit the top step of the porch, I knew?—
Something wasn’t right. Something wasoff.And I was already too late to turn back.
The house was quiet. Too quiet, in fact.
I pushed the front door open slowly, the hinges whispering a creak into the thick, still air. No lamps on. No music. Just darkness and the faint scent of cedar and clean linen, like nothing had changed.
Likeeverythinghadn’t changed.
“Knox?” I called, my voice low and tentative.
No answer.
I stepped inside, closing the door softly behind me. My heels echoed too loudly on the hardwood floor. The shadows stretched long across the walls, cast from the streetlight outside bleeding through the curtains.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
Something’s wrong,my mind screamed at me.
I dropped my bag onto the floor, softly, and my purse slid off my shoulder with a quiet thud as I set it down on the entryway table. I moved deeper into the living room, my pulse humming faster with every step I took.
Then I felt it. That shift in the air. That unmistakable awareness — like I was beingwatched.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
KNOX
