Page 39 of Into the Dark

“Oh, I know that. But’s it’s for all the other things you do too. The weeding and sweeping of the driveway, and the little DIY jobs you’ve helped out with. I’m hopeless, as you know. I’m a terrible neighbor. Call it the yearly dividend.”

“I don’t know, having a GP for a neighbor has come in handy a few times,” he points out.

“Okay, well, fine. I suppose I’m not all bad.”

“Absolutely not,” he says almost crossly. Then he fixes his attention on unloading the items one by one, making little silent “O”s with his mouth at each one.

“I assume the little fluff ball is out and about?” I ask, glancing around Ed’s kitchen.

“Yes. He came back in for a drink a few hours back, but I haven’t seen him since. Speaking of, can I get you anything?”

Because I don’t want to just dump and run, I accept his offer of a tall glass of cloudy lemonade with ice, which we then take back out into the garden after Ed deposits the cheese into the fridge.

Ed’s garden is the quintessential English garden. Wide paths, deep, herbaceous borders, and a little pool at the far end. The terrace we’re sitting on now is fanned with lavishly planted pots. It’s stunning. It won the village’s “best garden” prize three years in a row.

The sun really is exceptionally hot today, meaning I can’t sit out here long or I’ll sizzle. I shift on my chair as I try to work out a way of asking for what I came over for without sounding blunt or impolite. Turns out it’s impossible.

“Ed, I was hoping I could steal those spare keys I gave you,” I ask as I lift my glass to my mouth. The lemonade is deliciously sweet, but with a refreshingly bitter aftertaste. “Just until I get another set cut, that is. I’d still like you guys to have a set in case of emergencies.”

“Sure thing. They’re on the hook in the kitchen. You want them now?”

I smile and nod. “Please. I gave my own set away.”

Ed gives me a confused smile. “You gave them away?”

Willingly. I gave Jake a set of keys to my house because I want him to have them. I made it seem like it was about tonight, and about Mark, but it wasn’t. It was because it means something for him to have keys to my house.

“Well, not quite. I’m seeing someone. And, well, I wanted him to have a set.”

“Ahh, I see.” Ed nods, smiling. “No problem, gotcha, I’ll go get them.” He disappears back inside the house, returning a moment later to hand me my spare keys with the cat key ring on them. All of my keys have a cat key ring on them.

“Thanks, Ed. I’ll get another set cut on Tuesday when I’m back at work and bring them over.”

“Sure thing, Alex.”

“I’ll have to introduce you both to Jake as well. You’ll probably be seeing him quite a bit now.” I feel a stupidly large smile take over my face for some reason.

“Jake, is it? I look forward to meeting him then.” Ed nods. “Check he’s good enough for you and all that. But I’m guessing he is…” His smile changes then, and his eyes go a little distant. To clarify, he says, “It’s just you look happy, Alex. Happier than you were before you went away, that’s for sure.”

So heartbreak is obvious on the faces of those drowning in it.

“I am.” I nod, ignoring the voice right at the back of my mind that niggles at this new happiness. The voice reminding me Jake is in mortal danger…reminding me of the perilousness of this deal he’s made. “And you’ll meet the reason why very soon, I’m sure.” I smile, ignoring the voice almost entirely.

“Ahh, the key thief!” Ed chuckles.

“The very same.”

The house feels different now. It’s isn’t the place where I lost him anymore. It’s not the place I’ll spend nights crying over us in different rooms. Like me, it seems to have shaken off the deep depression that filled every nook and cranny. Six weeks ago, when he walked out of here, I was convinced he’d never set foot in this house again.

After opening all the windows and unpacking my two stuffed suitcases, I go downstairs and open the back door to whistle and call for Fred. I want to show him it’s safe to come back, that I’m not the human-shaped pile of misery I was when I left. I rattle the bag of cat treats for almost five whole minutes, but he doesn’t appear. Later, though, while I’m hanging out the second batch of holiday clothes on the line, I feel his warm little body wrap itself around my ankle. I pick him up and nuzzle him until he protests, but he curls up in a spot in the sun and watches me finish hanging the laundry.

I spend the rest of the day dusting and putting away clothes. Jake doesn’t contact me, which causes a tiny sliver of fear to worm its way around the base of my spine. But I can’t let it. I need to trust that he can keep himself safe.

Around seven I decide to go for a run. All the way to the end of the village and halfway down the long country road leading into it, and then the long way home. It’s an attempt to keep myself from worrying and expel some of the sexual tension fizzing through my veins. And it almost works. Or rather, it works on the first. But it makes the second much worse.

Because I’m trying not to worry about him, I think instead about how he looked when I saw him on the patio last night. I think about the way his body felt as he held me in his arms last night while we slept. And I think about the way he pleasured me this morning with his perfect mouth.

At 9:00 p.m. my phone dings with a notification. My heart lifts and my body relaxes when I see it’s from him.

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