Page 10 of Follow Her Down
Not even if that something wants me as badly as I want revenge.
After all, we all have our hungers.Some of us just hide them better than others.
4
Sera
TheGas‘NGofluorescent lights make everyone look dead.
I’ve been standing behind this counter for exactly forty-seven minutes, and I’ve already counted the ceiling tiles, memorized the price of every candy bar in the display, and watched Rick scratch his balls when he thought I wasn’t looking.
My new uniform is a polyester disaster—a red polo shirt with the gas station logo over the left breast and khaki pants that make my ass look like two sad pancakes.At least I got to keep my combat boots.Small mercies.
I’m arranging lottery tickets in their display case when the bell over the door chimes.A gust of autumn air sweeps in, ruffling all the Missing Persons flyers on the bulletin board and carrying with it the scent of something sharp.Cologne.
I know that scent.
Every cell in my body freezes before I even look up.My fingers go numb on the scratch-offs.For a second, I’m somewhere else—another place, another woman, another life that ended with pain and silence.
Then I’m back, and I force myself to turn.
He’s here.Vincent Harrow.Sheriff of this fucking city.
He stands just inside the doorway, all six feet of himin his crisp, tan uniform.The badge on his chest catches the horrible lighting, winking at me like we share a secret.His dark hair is cut military-short at the sides but longer on top, just starting to gray at the temples.He looks distinguished, trustworthy, like the perfect lawman.
I know better.
Rick emerges from the storage room, wiping his hands on a dirty towel.“Hey, Sheriff!How’s it going today?”
“Can’t complain,” Vincent says.
His voice is exactly as I remember it, smooth and low, with a hint of gravel that makes people lean in closer to catch his words.
I don’t move.I barely breathe.Part of me expected him to recognize me instantly—to see through my several dozen extra pounds, my dyed hair, my dramatic makeup, my carefully constructed new identity.But his gaze slides over me like I’m just another fixture in the store.
Good.That’s good.I need the element of surprise.
But god, it stings.The things he did to me with those hands, the weeks we sat across from each other when we both took the stand, when I rehashed the terrible details over and over, when he lied, when his friends lied for him, the godawful cross examination, and he doesn’t even recognize me.
I think I may vomit.
I think I may kill him right fucking now.
He approaches the counter, and Rick bustles over.
“This is Sera, our new girl,” Rick says, standing too close to me, his elbow brushing mine.“Sera, this is Sheriff Harrow.Best lawman in the state, if you ask me.”
Vincent nods, hardly sparing me a glance as he digs out his wallet.“Welcome.”
I smile, keeping my lips pressed together while his blood rains down the inside of my mind.
“Sera just moved into the old Milligan place on Lakeview,” Rick adds, and I want to stab him in the balls for volunteering that information.
“Quite a fixer-upper,” Vincent says, sounding bored now.
I shrug.“I find broken things much more revealing.”
“Mm.That house has a history,” he says.
