Page 91 of Dead Love
And then I left.
CHAPTER29
Kora
In the car,I kept the canvas bag on my lap. Catie focused on the road. Traffic was quiet, as I assume it usually was at this hour. Dirt was caked into my fingernails.
What had just happened?
Vincent had taken me again, but this time, he had a look in his eyes like he was actually going to kill me. But then he gave me a gun. Was that protection from him?
We pulled into Rose Garden Neighborhood. As soon as the white fence came into view, my stomach turned. I would always be looking out from behind one fence or another. Vincent always seemed to know that, didn’t he?
Catie and I waited for a moment. Finally, I opened the car door.
“You know you could come to me if you needed help, right?” she asked. “If your mom asks, you can say you snuck out with me.”
“Thank you,” I said.
She smiled. “Good luck.”
I went around the side of the house like Vincent had. Everything was quiet. I had never thought I would sneak backintoa house to pretend like I had never left. It was eerie and still.
I sat on my bed, then opened the canvas bag. The pistol was small, but weighty, like a full vase. I put my hand around the grip. Had Vincent ever used it?
A chill ran through me. He thought I was in danger, then. Whether it was from him or from someone else, he wanted me to have this.
The floor creaked above me; my mother was coming down the stairs. I quickly wrapped the gun in the bag and shoved it under the bed.
The door swung open. Shea stood there in her pink robe, her arms wrapped around herself.
“You’re here. Good,” she said, still half-asleep. “I thought I heard something.”
“No. Just me,” I smiled, casually pushing my feet against the bag so that it went further under the bed. I crossed my fingers that she didn’t have her contacts in, that she was too sleepy to see the dirt on my pajamas. “Are you okay, Mom?”
Her eyelids fluttered at the word ‘Mom.’ “Of course,” she said. “As long as you are.” She turned to leave, but then she swung back around to me. “Why are you awake?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” I grabbed a book off of my nightstand. “Reading.”
Her eyes flicked over to the open window. “What happened to your screen?”
“I took it off.” I chewed on my lip. “It reminds me more of home this way.”
Her eyes filled with tears. She closed the door behind her and I let out a sigh.
Why had I covered for Vincent?
I laid on my back, zoning out at the blank ceiling. I imagined dried flowers were pinned to the walls, as if they were painted in shades of pastel and creams, like my old bedroom.
But when I closed my eyes, I dreamed of that room in Vincent’s house, where every available space was taken up with flowers—synthetic, yes, but not dried or dead. Perpetually in bloom. We had been surrounded by everything fake, and yet he made it seem more real than anything I had ever experienced. More real than this rental’s turfed front lawn. More real than the dried flowers on my old bedroom walls.
Had the plants in my old bedroom window burned like the rest of the house? If the house hadn’t burned, would Shea have watered them?
It was a stupid question about a past that wasn’t real. All I had, right now, was the canvas bag, and Vincent’s warning.
* * *
In the morning,the warm tea trickled down my throat. Everything inside of Nectar Latte was muffled and blurry, and I felt empty without that canvas bag in my arms, but I smiled anyway, like I was supposed to. Shea put her hand on my back, bringing me forward, closer to Andrew, and he tipped his imaginary hat and winked at me, then rubbed the back of his hand on my arm. I nodded, pretending to follow along, but instead, I thought about Vincent. Where was he now,nowthat he was free? Would I have to insist on wearing fireproof pajamas to bed? Would Vincent put me in that grave for good?
