CHAPTER 20
ELARA
Rhett drives a circular route around our hometown, avoiding the landmarks and sticking to the forest roads. I appreciate that, because the last thing I need is a drive-by reel of flashbacks from my old life. Mira sits in the backseat, staring down at the book in her lap, lips pressed into a flat line.
I drum my fingers against my leg and glance across the car at Rhett in his dark hoodie, his hair catching the light, a light black dusting of beard over his strong jaw. My… lover now, I guess. A killer. A man who could break and save me.
There I go being dramatic again, but screw it.
This is a very dramatic situation.
Rhett glances in the rearview at Mira, sighs, and looks at the road.
“Are we okay?” I ask.
Rhett nods. He knows I’m asking if we’re being followed.
Before we left, he scanned his car with a device to check if there was anything on it. Then we drove down winding routes, skipping traffic lights when we hit a town, and then another winding route.
Finally, we end up outside a house in the suburbs, with a long, sprawling yard out front.
“How much does he know?” I ask.
“He knows enough,” Rhett replies. “I trust him with my life.”
I look out the window, chewing my lip.
Rhett leans in and lowers his voice, his warm breath whispering against my neck. “He’s not sneaking up on us, beautiful. I swear to you.”
I climb from the car and go to the back seat. When I lean down to pick Mira up, she huffs and slides onto the concrete and walks toward the house. I smile at Rhett because that’s a small win. She might not be speaking, but at least she’s still in there.
I walk up the pathway close to Rhett’s arm but not touching him. I want to reach out and link arms with him, but that would be too couple-like, I guess. It’s hard to know what we are when we’re not pretending.
He knocks on the door and takes a step back. For a few moments as we stand there, it feels like we’re a real family. I think Mira even senses it because she smiles and looks up at Rhett, then wiggles her eyebrows at me. The poor girl is scared, but she’s not going to let it break her.
Rhett grins, and then the door opens. Marshall is a tall, thin man with a thick mustache and a kind smile. He smiles, stepping forward, slapping Rhett on the arm. “It’s damn good to see you.”
Rhett smiles back. “Marshall, this is?—”
“Elara, Elle,” Marshall says, turning to me. “Yes, I… it’s good to see you.”
“Thank you,” I say. “And please, call me Elle.”
“Andyoumust be Mira.”
Mira smiles, but then turns to me, pressing her face into my hip. I stroke her hair. It’s awful, but her fear gives me the motivation I need to go through with this.
“She’s a little shy,” I say.
Marshall nods. “I understand. Please come in.”
He invites us into his home, airy and bright. Two boys sit cross-legged in front of the TV, around Mira’s age, playing a video game. Mira takes a few nervous steps in, then walks around the back of the couch, staring at the TV.
“Mira,” I whisper.
“It’s okay,” Marshall says. “Boys, this is Mira, who I told you about.”
One boy turns, freckly along the bridge of his nose with a kind smile. “Oh, sorry. Hey Mira, want to play?”
