Page 105 of Dead Love
My mother knew what would make our family look good.
“I’m not surewhymy mother thought going on my first dateright nowwas a good idea,” I mumbled.
“Because she knows I’ll take care of you.”
He pulled me into his arms, and I pushed him away, forcefully, this time.
“Don’t,” I said. “Not yet,” I added quickly, as if that could make the rejection less painful. “I’m not ready.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he muttered. He gripped my hand, but I took my purse and smacked it across his face. A streak of makeup rubbed off, making his skin patchy with bluish-green bruises. His jaw clenched. A few people turned to us.
“Is that Captain Pompino?” one of them asked.
“Why did she slap Andrew? Isn’t that—”
“That missing girl. The one the mortician kidnapped!”
Andrew turned to me, snapping his teeth. “You can pretend to be the strong girl who survived her suffering and became a better woman for it. But I can see right through you, darling.” He lowered his voice, “You’re a weak girl, Kora. And you need someone like me to protect you.”
I glared at him, my eyes shifting across his face.
“You’re wrong about me,” I hissed.
He ignored me and continued on: “One day, I’m going to make you my wife.” He tipped his imaginary hat. “Whether you like it or not. Because believe me, your mother does. And your daddy has no choice. We’re the ones who control you.”
I clutched my purse to my chest, then walked down the sidewalk. My heart pounded, my skin buzzing with energy. I couldn’t stand to be around him anymore.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Leave me alone,” I shouted. “Or I’ll—I’ll—”
“What are you going to do?” he laughed. “Call the police?”
* * *
Vincent
As soon asSheriff Mike mentioned setting up his daughter with Andrew, I started imagining his torture and eventual death. The longer he was kept alive through his agony, the more I would enjoy it. Transforming that cocky smirk into a pained wail. Plunging the knife into his heart, the look on his face as he fell into a grave, knowing that no one was coming to save him.
I doubted Kora would be able to forgive me for taking her childhood friend’s life. But if it meant Kora was safe, it would be worth it. In my mind,wedidn’t matter;shedid.
I searched the town for her car and his, but I found nothing. After aimlessly driving, I wound up in Rose Garden Neighborhood, drifting between the houses. Between the perfect homes was a soot-covered spot, the beams still standing, with charred streaks going down the remnants. Like black paint spilled in the middle of a perfect painting. And yet the flags hung from other driveways, the fabric fluttering in the wind. And the grass plots were lush and green.
When I found the Novas’ rental house, I parked across the street. My throat tensed. It was so different from their old home. Natural grass, and at one time, a rose bush—to plastic turf. But I didn’t regret taking Kora. My intentions were never pure, and they continued to be ill-advised, but now I simply wanted Kora to be safe. And now, she lived in a house guarded with fake grass, as if none of the Novas could stand the idea of anything dying again.
The front door swung open. Shea’s limp hair hung around her face, the strands gray, not her usual brown. She looked older. Like she wasn’t her usual self.
Perhaps destruction came in many forms.
“Mr. Erickson?” Shea asked, squinting her eyes. “What are you doing here?”
What had made me hate her and her husband, years ago now? Her entire facade had disintegrated, leaving behind a fatigued woman with hardly anything left.Thiswas the real Shea: the one who was left alone. A woman who used control like a vice to keep the people around her close.
But that didn’t make what she did right.
Nor did it excusemyactions.
“What do you want?” Shea asked, clutching her coat around herself. “Stay away from Kora.” She reached back toward the house. “I have a gun. My husband is the sheriff. You need to stay away.”
