Page 44 of Grave Love
I honk the horn. It’s disrespectful, and somehow, I bet it’s the exact kind of thing that would turn Ren on—treating her like she’s not worth the effort of walking to the door. Like she’s a trained animal that shouldcomeas soon as I call.
The bitch doesn’t come.
Is she doing this on purpose? Makingmecome toher?
I power off the engine, irritation simmering in my chest like a hive of bees. I’m not going to her because she made me; I’m going to herdoorbecause I don’t like waiting.
This better be good.
I bang on the front door like a madman, my fists crashing on the wood. Ren opens it, her chin shaking for me to leave. A stout, yellow-haired woman steps in front of her, blocking her exit. The old woman is smaller than me, yet her expression is filled with contempt. As if she’s looking down on me.
“You must be Mrs. Richmond,” I say.
Her eyes narrow, flickering over me, taking in my black clothes. My pale skin. White hair. She sneers, and I know what this is: I’m an untouchable. Someone who works with dead bodies. I don’tdeserveher granddaughter, even if her granddaughter is just like me.
It’s as if Ren’s grandmother thinks she’s made from different material thanus.
“I know you work at a funeral home,” the grandmother says, turning to Ren. “And I understand that we need those services on the beach. But it’s late, Ren. Our neighbors—they have children who go to my school. If they—”
The grandmother goes on a verbal rampage, stomping all over people like me, rubbing in the fact that I’ve probably woken up half of the neighborhood already. Mrs. Richmond can’t have people knowing that her granddaughter is being picked up by a coworker this late at night. What would it do to her reputation?
I lean against the wall of her picturesque house. The grandmother sneers at me briefly. How dare I touch her things!
“He’s just taking me to a work function, Mrs. Richmond,” Ren says. “It’s not like—”
“A work function? This late?”
A work function.As if our arrangement is simply a project we’re working on together. Perhaps it is. As Ren explains away our plans for the night, pretending like there’s an annual party we’re going to, her black hair coats her face like a layer of paint, hiding her shame.
This isn’t a new routine for the two of them.
“If you had only finished your doctorate’s degree,” the grandmother scolds, cutting her off. “Honestly, at this point, I’d even consider letting you work at the schoolwithoutthe degree. I don’t want to see you waste your life away like your mother. What future is there in the death industry? Your paycheck hardly covers your monthly loan payments, let alone gives you enough to save and move out on your own—”
Loan payments Renowesher grandmother, because she didn’t finish the doctorate program like her grandmother wanted. As if Ren dropped out on a whim.
It’s not as simple as the old bitch likes to claim.
The grandmother angles her body toward Ren, a fucking tsunami tearing her granddaughter apart layer by layer. Tough love. Tearing down her own blood, as if that will make Ren better,stronger,when it doesn’t take a genius to see through the bullshit.
People like Ren’s grandmother use “tough love” to make themselves feel better. Like it gives her a good reason to patronize her would-be successor.
My mind buzzes with white noise, the anger building in my chest. A blankness overwhelms Ren, the emptiness taking over her body: the tears that fill her up, emotions that she refuses to let go. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her grandmother.
It’s irritating.
For a split second, I wish I would’ve killed that old bitch like I considered weeks ago. But that would’ve left Ren in a precarious state, and I wasn’t about to risk the opportunity to manipulate my little corpse.
I don’t give a shit what Ren’s grandmother thinks of me, nor do I give a shit about her relationship with Ren. Damn it—I don’t even care aboutRen.She’s my next victim. My fourth. A convenient arrangement.
But her grandmother is stepping intomyfucking territory now. I don’t care for mothers—or even grandmothers—like her. I won’t let Ren behernext victim. The only one who can destroy Ren’s sense of self is me.
Only me.
I step forward, my boots thudding on the pavement. The grandmother quiets. I tip my chin down and broaden my shoulders. The grandmother is small, and she knows it. Next to me? It’sfunny.I could eat her for breakfast.
I smile at her, letting her understand the falseness of my expression.
The old bitch flinches.
