Page 145 of Those Who Are Bound

“He will!” Lucy assured her.

Elliott let Lucy get back to helping Killion move into his new home. A couple of hours later, as the sun began to set in a huge ball of orange on the horizon, she got a couple of pizzas delivered. Taking them into the back of the warehouse, she stood with her offerings as she listened to the laughs and low sounds of a radio coming through the door that hadn’t had life behind it for years.

Even then, the life it’d held hadn’t had cause for cheer. There’d been no laughs, only the sounds of sobs, which were a relief after the long stints of silence. Because it at least assured her that there was life.

Knocking aside the thoughts, Elliott approached the door and peeked in, bracing herself.

But instead of the dark cell she remembered, Killion and Lucy had turned the room into a livable space. Ikea bookshelves made a half-wall to separate the toilet from the bed that Killion and Lucy were sitting on. A shower curtain had been hung. He’d managed to create a smallish kitchenette for himself with a mini-fridge, microwave, and hotplate. There wasn’t a sink in the room, but there was one in the warehouse itself.

When she entered with the pizza boxes, they both leaped off the bed and looked at her in surprise. Lucy was pleased to see her; Killion looked unsure, as though he knew he’d overstepped and was waiting for her judgment. He ran a hand over his bald head, watching her.

Looking around again, she had only one question. He anticipated her. “I moved it to the office; put a lock on it. The combination is on the desk.”

Gage’s footlocker.

“I figured it ought to be locked up until you…” He shrugged. “Well, until you decide what to do with it. I can move it wherever you want it.”

Elliott nodded. “The office is fine for now.” She held up the pizza. “I wasn’t sure if you’d had dinner.”

Looking relieved, he leaned forward and took the boxes from her. “We were just talking about my offerings of ramen and macaroni. This is greatly appreciated.”

Elliott looked at the meager collection of ramen noodles and microwavable macaroni and cheese. “There is a full kitchen if you need it. Just clean up after yourself.” Looking around again, she asked, “This is okay for you?”

Killion nodded, looking around the space proudly. “It is. I mean, I’ll make sure I’m not breaking any codes. If I am, I’ll make it right. And if you don’t mind, I might paint in here, but yeah. Thank you again, by the way.”

Elliott gave a small nod.

“Let me grab a chair from the office so we aren’t all on the bed,” Killion said. “I don’t need to be giving Pastor Jonah cause for concern.” He brushed by her.

Although it was said lightly, Elliott detected a tone of sincerity. She looked at Lucy, but she didn’t appear to have noticed anything in the comment or intonation. Maybe she was being paranoid because Jonah hadn’t followed her home… Because he hadn’t sent her a follow-up text, as had been his usual pattern.

Self-loathing rose up. She was being paranoid and needy and wanting reassurance, knowing her plans, and that made her a hypocrite. She wanted him to want and need her; meanwhile, she was planning on breaking up with him in less than a week.

She was pure evil.

“What’cha doing?”

Elliott paused. It was like Becks had some sort of radar. She answered as nonchalantly as she could, “I’m making lasagna.” It was true. She’d just slid it, bubbling and aromatic, from the oven when he’d called.

“All for yourself?”

Yeesh. He knew something. He couldn’t know anything. Her guilty conscience made her paranoid. He’d once told her that certain people confess based on that guilty conscience before they’re even interrogated. He couldn’t know about Killion yet, and the last he’d heard, she’d walked away from Jonah.

No point in making the situation with Jonah more complicated by mentioning the canoe trip, because after that, shewaswalking away. So, she used a trick she’d learned from Becks: distraction.

“I have something to tell you. But you can’t get mad.”

“Halfway there with that lead-in.” But he sounded more amused than angry; wearily amused, that is. Poor Becks. They were finally getting to a good place after so long. She didn’t want to alarm him unnecessarily, and when it came to her, he was easily disturbed. For good reason.

“Stop. I hired someone.”

“Mm-hmm?” Flick of a lighter. Was he bracing himself?

“Don’t blow a gasket.”

“Ellie, foregone conclusion with all of your hemming and hawing. What have you done?”

She made a face, knowing full well he couldn’t see her. “Well, there’s this church.”

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