“No! Please, no, she wanted it,” he sputters through choking breaths, tears spilling down his cheeks.
My claws prick his skin, and he shrieks. I grimace, disgusted as wetness blooms across the front of his sweatpants and the acrid smell of ammonia fills the air.
The dream wavers. I can tell he’s about to wake up, probably to having pissed himself in real life.
Good. I’m done here.
My eyes bore into his, blood making my grip on his neck slippery.
“If you ever come near her again, you’ll wish you were dead.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
After the officers made me feel like a fucking idiot last night, I ate some dinner and tried to convince myself that they were right.
There are worse things than a Clark Griswold bandit.
According to my mom, I’ve never been quite grateful enough, and if someone is out here doing random acts of kindness, I suppose I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s not like I was going to get the decorations up by myself.
Still, all day I can’t shake the feeling of unease. There’s this war inside me, pitting being grateful and brushing it off and freaking the fuck out against each other, that results in a stalemate. I woke up in my bed after another dreamless night, and it’s shocking how… numb I feel. It’s like knowing I am over-reacting has shut down my central nervous system or something. My body is on autopilot.
I’m in bed.
I’m brushing my teeth.
I listen to the morning routine and hum along to lofi Christmas songs as I make my coffee.
Instead of examining everything too closely, I lose myself in the minutiae of getting through the day. All of Fae’s presents have arrived, so I turn on a Christmas movie andwrap them. Since I order almost everything online, I have no shortage of boxes and find one that can fit everything.
I ordered the perfect presents, and now I tuck them sweetly into a box to be mailed to the perfect Christmas. I’m not even certain what movie I watch, all the claymation ones blend together in my head until Rudolph is singing about being Mr. 101.
I make cocoa.
I sit with Henry.
I breathe in.
I breathe out.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Whatever facsimile of peace I had is shattered the second I hear a ruckus from outside. A peek through my windows reveals Tom on a ladder propped against one of my trees.
What in the world is this motherfucker doing?
Without thinking, I step into my boots, whip on my coat, and stomp outside. “Tom, what the hell are you doing?” I call from my porch.
He turns and tips his hat to me before going back to whatever he’s working on.
“It seems to me, sweetheart, that if you’ve got someone meddling in your affairs, we need to see who they are.”
“There’s more than onesomeonemeddling in my affairs, I think,” I mumble, because maybe I blew all of my courage by asking what he was doing. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Trail cams!” he says, beaming like it’s the best thing he’s ever done. “There’s groceries in the back of the truck too, if you want to start unloading them.”
“Tom, I’m sure there are plenty of cute deer that come through here, even the stray black bear, but I can see them just fine from my window.”
