“You think I haven’t?” she hisses, taking a step forward. “Before you arrived here, I had things worked out. I had everything under control. I had a plan!”
I match each step she takes, slowly moving around the room, trying to place obstacles like tables and chairs between us.
There’s something absolutely terrifying about this woman.
She’s not tall.
Her build is thin.
But the presence she carries with her is larger than life. Each tap of her designer boots on the wooden floors feels like it makes the entire building shake, and each breath she takes, I swear I can feel it on the back of my neck.
There are several square tables between us when she finally pauses again, her shoulders drooping as she shakes her head. “No,” she whispers—whether to me, or to herself, I’m not sure. “It’s not your fault. I let this happen.”
I glance around, hoping that at any moment someone is going to throw open a door and interrupt, but I can hear the parade still going on in the distance, and I know that even if I yell, scream, or cry out, there’s not a chance I’ll be heard.
So instead, I swallow hard and clear my throat. “Whatever it is that you think you let happen, I’m sure we can fix it,” I say, trying to sound sincere and caring, though it’s hard when your body is pumping you full of adrenaline, subtly screaming at you to run. “If it’s about the fire…”
I let the words float in the air, not accusing, more curious.
She lifts her eyes, tears sparkling.
“It happened so suddenly,” Victoria says, her breathing heavy.
I inhale deeply through my nose, the twisted knot in my stomach beginning to unwind as I think I’ve actually managed to get through to her.
“Okay,” I say, standing a little taller and forcing a smile. “An accident. See. Accident’s happe?—”
“She was going to kill you.”
I flinched, the statement hitting me like a slap in the face.
“What?” The question catches on my tongue, barely making it out of my mouth. “Wh… who was?—”
“Sarah,” she answers, staring me dead in the eye.
Is this some kind of sick joke?
Some kind of messed up tradition to go along with the darkness of the Krampus Parade? Pick out someone new in town and scare the shit out of them. Funny. Haha.
But the punchline never comes.
We just stand in silence with the heavy thumping of the drums in the distance—or maybe it’s the sound of my heart beating in my ears as the blood rushes around, fighting to keep me alive as I’m frozen in what I think is shock.
“Victoria…” I say steadily. “I think it’s time we call Grizz.”
Before I can finish, she’s already shaking her head and waving her hands in the air.
“No,” she states sharply, her eyes narrowing. “No. That’s not how this is going to go.”
I stand a little taller, pushing my shoulders back. “And I don’t think I really trust you anymore to make those kinds of choices! Look where it’s gotten us!”
Huffing out a frustrated breath, I take a couple of steps toward the door, ready to storm the hell out of there, done with playing nice. If I have to fight my way past this woman, I will, but before I can even think about throwing a punch, she reaches into her coat and pulls out a small handgun, raising it toward me.
The glimmer of light coming in through the windows makes the revolver sparkle, and the way she grips it in her hand makes it seem like it’s not her first time.
Of course it’s not.
Victoria is many things, but she is not weak, nor is she unprepared.
