Page 64 of The Silent Night Stalker
“Yeah.” I glance up at him. “You pick.”
“I’ve always wanted to live somewhere warm and sunny. What about California?” he asks.
“I’ll go wherever you do, even if it’s to Antarctica.”
Enzo chuckles as he turns to face me, then he lifts me off my toes. “I adore you, but no. Not there.” He sets me down and forks our fingers together as we walk back to his car. “Time to head to your place.”
It’smyturntosneak out of the house the next morning before we make our trip to California. I already packed up all I wanted last night, but there’s one more thing I have to do first.
I’m back inside my home and turn on the stove. After placing a pan on the flame to warm it, I add oil over high heat.
Once it gets hot, I place a roll of paper towels nearby and leave the house to head to the store and get some eggs, since I forgot to buy them. After thirty minutes, I return home, and smoke is billowing out of the house already.
My stomach does that excited fluttering that happens more and more since I’ve known Enzo. The house is old, dry, and worn. It shouldn’t take long to burn down.
I get out of the car and walk inside with my eggs. There are flames quickly spreading in the kitchen. I leave the eggs on the counter, along with the receipt, both still in the plastic bag, as I pull out an old fire extinguisher from the dilapidated storage shed in the backyard, taking my time.
I use the extinguisher here and there, but it’s of no use. The fire is now out of control, so I step outside and wait a bit before calling the fire department.
It needs to look like an accident. This isn’t about the insurance money. I want to see this place fucking burn to the ground. I have Enzo now. We’re about to start a new life in a new place. I hate everything about this house.
As I watch the flames lick along the walls inside through the windows, all the horrible memories burn along with them. I imagineSteve and my mom are inside, being burned alive, even though the state buried them somewhere.
I don’t need to fake my tears. They’re tears of anger and happiness. It was a house of horrors—so much pain. I sniff and wipe my eyes. But now I’m on to better things—a better life. I’m loved and cared about. I don’t care if Enzo hasn’t told me the words yet. I know he does. He called me precious.
Enough time has been wasted. I pull my phone out of my coat and call 9-1-1, explaining my emergency. When I hang up, I see a text from Enzo.
Enny: Where are you?????
Me: At my house. I was grabbing some stuff I forgot, but
I got hungry, so I wanted to make breakfast.
Me: I realized I didn’t have eggs, so I ran to the store to grab
some. I forgot about the oil cooking on the stove.
Me: The house is burning down. I just called the fire
department.
Enny: Wtf??? Why? Okay, I’m coming to get you.
Enny: Are you okay?
I smile at my phone and caress it with my fingertips before I text back.
Me: Yeah, I’m okay.
I hate that I lied to him, but I need more proof that the fire wasn’t intentional.
By the time the fire department arrives, Enzo is right behind them. He parks a block away, and as the firefighters hook up their hoseto the fire hydrant, Enzo is rushing at me, looking nearly panicked. When he reaches me, he lifts me into his arms.
“God, are you okay?” he asks again.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry.”
He takes my face in his protective hands and looks deeply into my eyes. “You scared the hell out of me. Don’t ever do that again.”
