Page 43 of ILY
He snorts and shakes his head. ‘He’s still around?’ I grimace and nod, and Mellie sighs. ‘I can ask around.’
‘Please don’t. I sound unhinged enough.’
He bursts into laughter, then pulls me in for a hug. ‘No time for Deaf goodbye. I have to get Otto back to his bees. He’s doing a honey harvest today, and he’s on a schedule. But text me if you need me.’
I don’t actually buy that. I’m pretty sure honey harvesting isn’t on a schedule, but I take the lie for what it is: a polite excuse to get the hell out of here. I step back and wave as he gets in the truck, then turn back and head toward my project.
I still don’t know what the hell I’m doing with this. Or my life. Or Michael.
Or with Thorne.
But, I think as I pick up the shovel, I have to start somewhere, and here seems pretty damn good.
A movement in my periphery has me craning over the hole I’m standing in to see if my stalker is here. Sadly, it’s not him. Just a flutter of an old, raggedy umbrella on the porch, waving to me. It’s very judgmental. Thinks I’ve lost my mind.
I flip it off.
I really need to get rid of all this junk. It’s really starting to affect my deteriorating mental health. Plus, with all the help I know Thorne will lend me, maybe I can offer up my ass as a thank you.
I really wouldn’t mind him sticking that big dick in there.
I continue my shoveling, dirt flying this way and that as I try to find Michael. If he won’t come to me, then I’ll go to him. I’ll find his goddamn highway of tunnels I know he has running through my yard and destroy them.
“And then I’m gonna bury you here, you piece of shit,” I murmur as my shovel meets the earth.
Suddenly, a shadow looms over me, and I scream. A very manly scream, but a scream nonetheless.
Thorne chuckles above me, squatting down and staring at me.
“Uh…what are you doing?” he asks, his eyebrows meeting his hairline.
“Digging a grave.” I sign this with one hand, and he sighs, scrubbing a hand down his cheek.
“Right, well, I brought you food. Your fridge was very empty and sad when I last snooped.”
I blink at him. He brought me groceries? Why is that the most touching thing anyone has done in a long, long time? My throat feels a little scratchy and thick as I choke out, “Thank you.”
His gaze softens. “I thought I’d make you something to eat. You look like you haven’t been inside all day, and it’s time for dinner.”
“Shit.Isit?”
“Yeah.” He hesitates, his brows furrowing. “Have you been out here digging this…” He stumbles just a bit on the next word, “…graveall day?”
“Seems I have. And I have the blisters on my hand to prove it. Seems blowjobs and anal are the only things on the menu for thank-yous for a while.”
His body language shifts, and his shoulders relax. “I think I can handle that.” He grins, which makes his eyes look prettier. “Come up. I think you need to eat.”
I stare up at him and then realize how deep in the ground I am. God, what was I thinking? The walls are almost perfectly straight down, and I’m up to the ankles in loose dirt. I…shit. I think I might be stuck.
I want to cry a little bit. “I don’t know how to get out. I think I may have to live here now. With Michael.”
“Did you just bury him?” There’s a look on his face now that I can’t read.
“I wish.”
Thorne stares at me for a long time, and then he holds up a finger. “Just stay right there. I’m going to go look for some rope or a ladder.”
I lean against the shovel and stare at the dirt walls all around me. Don’t know how I ended up so far below the earth, but if Thorne hadn’t shown up, there’s a good chance I’d have ended up in purgatory.
