He scoops her into his arms, making her giggle. Then, he snatches the basket Matilda was carrying from her hands. “I am a professional sleepover…er.”
“No lies detected there,” I mutter, though not the kind of sleepovers Zoe is thinking about.
“I’ve gotta leave to get ready soon, Felix,” Matilda warns him, probably because he looks like he’s about to run off with Zoe.
Felix looks at Zoe. “Is your bag all packed?”
She nods. “I just have to add my snacks.”
“How about you and I finish up here, and then I’ll take you over to Uncle Wade and Aunt Olivia’s house. I’ll even swing by the ice cream place on the way.”
“Yes, can I, Mom?” Zoe looks at Matilda with begging eyes that I’m glad aren’t aimed my way. I’d never be able to tell her no.
“Who’s the bigger kid here?” Matilda asks, looking between Zoe and Felix.
“You already know the answer to that.” I laugh before something catches my attention.
No, not something, someone.
Matilda frowns. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I thought I saw someone. I’ll be right back,” I mutter before taking off. I look down the next aisle and find it empty. I move on to the next one and the next one, but I don’t see anyone who shouldn’t be there. I push the door open and step outside, looking both ways.
When nothing catches my attention, I bend over and grip my thighs, sucking in a deep breath. “Jesus Banner, you’re chasing ghosts.”
I stand up and catch my reflection in the glass, hoping to God that’s all it is, but that strange sense of unease from this morning washes over me. I forget all about grabbing things for dinner and head back to my jeep, needing to clear my head. If who I saw is really back, I will lose my mind.
It can’t be though, can it?
Sorrow Wells. Fuck me, that’s a blast from the past. And not a good one. She was the reason I enlisted. My feelings for her had always been complicated, but she was far too young for me. I signed up to avoid temptation, not knowing she’d hook up with my brother while I was gone.
And then she killed him before I could forgive him for stealing the girl I loved.
Chapter Three
SORROW
Coming back here feels both nostalgic and painful. I hate how this tiny whimsical town holds both my best and worst memories. I swore I’d never come back and meant it. I should have known my mother would have the last laugh.
When the lawyer tracked me down and told me she was dead, I laughed. Does that make me a horrible person? Maybe, but it was either that or a scream at the top of my lungs. Once I’d finished freaking him out and got my shit together, he informed me that my mother’s will stipulated that the house and all her meager belongings were to be left to me. I wanted that house about as much as I wanted to use a rusty spike instead of a tampon, but I was now liable for the damn place and the financial headache that came with it.
So, being the responsible adult I apparently am now, I took everything he handed me and signed some papers so he could wash his hands of me. I’d tied up some loose ends and finished off my last few jobs before jumping in my van and heading back to my picturesque version of hell.
When I cross the bridge that leads into Tempest, I have a moment of doubt. I should have paid someone to do this for me. I owe these people and this town nothing, but therein lies the issue. I might not owe anyone else anything, but I owe it to myself to get some closure. It’s time to truly put this part of my life to rest so I can bury it in the ground beside my mother. After all, I’m good at burying shit.
As I get closer to the house, my stomach becomes more and more unsettled until I have to pull over and throw up the burrito I forced down my throat at lunchtime. Once my stomach is empty, I grab a bottle of water and a toiletry bag from the back of the van. I brush my teeth and use the few minutes of peace to calm my racing thoughts. Nobody is going to hurt me. I’m strong now. Far stronger than I was before. People may call me names, but I survived far worse than that. I steel my spine, toss the toiletry bag and now empty water bottle into the back, and climb back in.
Needing a few more minutes before I go to the house, I make a detour to the grocery store. Thankfully, not much has changed—at least visually—in the last six years. I pull my van in and tug my bag over my head so it sits across my body. I throw on the navy-blue cap I picked up at one of the gas stations on the way here and tug my shades free from my T-shirt before slipping them over my eyes.
The town might not have changed, even if I have. But changing on the inside doesn’t alter how I look on the outside, and I have no doubt that some people will recognize me if I’m not careful. I can’t keep my identity a secret for long, but I just need a few days of breathing room before people arrive with their pitchforks.
I keep my head down and head through the doors, snagging a basket on the way. I fill it with cleaning products and essentials before heading to the checkout. I smile when I see two self-servecheckouts alongside the one with the cashier. Using the self-serve, I scan and add my few items to a paper bag before swiping my card to pay. Once that’s done, I bend down to pick up the bag and accidentally knock the cap off. I grab the bag in one arm and head for the door as I put the cap back on with the other.
A cold feeling washes over me, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. I pick up my speed and leave without looking back. I toss my groceries in the passenger seat and head to the house, somehow finding comfort in heading there now instead of fear like before.
When I get there, I sigh at the state of the place. There are six houses down this lane. Three on each side, all with a sizable space between each, which is why the neighbors never heard my screaming. It’s easy to spot the house where my mother lived alone for the rest of her days. The other five houses have been updated and painted, and pretty new shutters have been added to the windows. The yards are neat, with borders of flowers in various colors. The only one lacking flowers is the house next door, but the lawn is still perfectly mowed to match the others.
Not wanting to leave the van out front where everyone can see it, I fumble for the garage key fob the lawyer gave me and hit the switch to open it. It seems to take forever. I expected it to be filled to the gills like a bad episode ofHoarders, but thankfully, beyond a chest freezer, a set of ladders, and some large plastic tubs filled with God only knows what, it’s empty.
