Page 25 of ILY
Oh my fucking god. If there is a person trapped, there’s going to be security footage of him somewhere. But this is not enough evidence to get a warrant. No one named Michael has been reported missing. In fact, no one in this area has been reported missing in over five years. At least, no one who isn’t a runaway or wayward spouse.
“Anyway, he left this fucking mess,” Leaf is saying. He waves his hand around the floor, and it’s then I notice the dirt and a bunch of squashed vegetables. And, fuck, are those strawberries?
“He’s fucking destroying my life, Echo.”
I jolt. I’d forgotten I hadn’t told Leaf my real name.
“Seems so.”
He grabs a broom and a dustpan and starts sweeping. I should offer to help, but when he bends over to collect it in the dustpan, I just stare at his ass.
“I really never was this crazy before. If my aunt could see me now…well, that’s a bad example. She’d probably join in on the hunt. We didn’t know each other very well, and she was kindof a weirdo who didn’t like people coming onto her property or touching her stuff.”
That makes something in my mind rattle, but not enough to shake the familiarity to the forefront. It’s weird that he inherited all of this but didn’t know her very well. Unless Leaf is one of her only surviving relatives, it doesn’t make sense. But I don’t know him well enough to ask, and I think if I do, he’ll get suspicious.
I run my fingers along the wires on the table, twisting one around my finger, shifting it. My eyes are keen these days, even if they’re getting old and tired. I do my best to look for droplets of blood that most killers miss during the cleanup, but the place—apart from the dirt and scattered vegetable parts—is clean.
Leaf stands up and dumps the old vegetables in the garbage can with a delirious sigh. “I’m going to head to the nursery after this. To get some new plants. Would you like to come?”
I watch him, telling myself to say no, but I just bob my head instead.
He smiles, changing the whole structure of his face for a single moment. “I need to get some more plants and better fencing. Maybe some underground ones too. I actually need a fucking bomb shelter in the backyard to keep Michael out.” He gasps and then pulls his phone out, tapping on it erratically.
“What are you doing?”
“Looking online to see if there are any of those for sale.”
“I don’t think that’s something you can just buy online.”
“Well, you can buy tornado shelters and entire houses online. Why not a bomb shelter for my plants?”
“But how will they get sunlight?”
“Fuck the sun.”
He murmurs something unintelligible under his breath, and it’s then that I take his phone away and stuff it in his pocket. My hand skims his ass, and it distracts us both for long enough that he forgets all about bomb shelters.
“Come on. Let’s go get the plants. I’ll even help you dig the holes.”
He huffs and then brushes a hand through his hair. “Fine. I accept. I did lose it there for a moment. I apologize.”
I stare at him, and he blinks up at me. There’s that cute little freckle, the one right under his eye. “You did, but we all have our moments. Go on and get changed, and we can go.”
He glances down at his tiny purple shorts and midriff tie-dye shirt. Part of it is torn and exposes most of his shoulder. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
I roll my lips between my teeth. “Oh, I thought these were pajamas.”
“Fuck you.”
I let out a laugh, and he rolls his eyes. “I’ll go change into something less embarrassing then.”
“No, no, you don’t have to.” I reach for him, but he slips away.
“Can’t have you embarrassed to be in my company.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“And just so you know, I went years just wearing boring black for interpreting, so I do like a bit of color and pizazz.”
