“I don’t see any broken glass, and it’s a small cut. You won’t need stitches.” He gently dabs some of the ointment on the cut. Sarah hisses at the sting, and the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. “It’s all right,” he says soothingly.
He wraps clean gauze around her foot and finally releases her. She remembers how to breathe again, taking air through her mouth in shuddering gulps while Caleb returns the supplies to the bathroom. It’s been a long time since anyone touched her in kindness, without expecting anything in return.
“Get some sleep. You’re safe now,” Caleb says. Sarah wants to believe him, but the masculine smell of his deodorant and the crinkle at the corners of his too-blue eyes tell her otherwise. “I’ll come by in the morning with breakfast.”
“Thank you.”
He doesn’t turn to leave, his throat constricting below his masked chin like he wants to say something else. They lock gazes for a second too long, until a creak downstairs breaks the silence. Caleb’s eyes flit toward the sound, and deep lines appear in his forehead.
“I’d lock your door,” he says quietly, and then he’s gone.
CHAPTER FOUR
There’s no TV or radio in the room, nothing to drown out the wailing of the wind or her own flailing thoughts. The house makes noises, too, keeping her awake with its unfamiliar song. Hardwood squawks, windows creak, radiators clunk and rattle. Footsteps pace nearby, and she can’t tell if it’s upstairs or downstairs or just outside her door.
When Sarah finally sleeps, it’s with the knife under her pillow.
Daylight shining from the room’s front windows rouses her in the morning. She thrashes in the strange bed, struggling under the weight of the quilt. Then she remembers she’s alone.Alone, alone, alone. The word sings in her head along with the wind. Alone save for the two strangers outside her room.
She scrambles out of the bed and plods to the bathroom. The whole house must hear the floorboards warping, the toilet flushing, the pipes grousing. If the brothers have forgotten her presence, she must sound like their father’s ghost.
A soft knock sounds on the bedroom door. “Good morning, Sarah,” Caleb says. “Would you like breakfast? I can bring you coffee and muffins. Do you have any allergies or dietary needs?”
“Yes, please,” she says. “And no, I don’t. Thank you.”
“How do you take your coffee?”
“Milk and no sugar, please.”
She buries the knife at the bottom of her backpack and changes into her clothes. Her pink hoodie is dry, so she puts it on as she’s got nothing else warm. At least in daylight, Ben’s blood is barely visible.
She tucks the piece of paper with Graham’s number on it in her pocket in case she gets the chance to charge her phone. When Caleb’s powerful tread rises on the stairs again, she rakes her fingers through her hair in front of the vanity mirror. Thank goodness for the mask to hide her makeup-free face. If only it could hide the dark circles under her eyes from months of restless sleeping.
A knock sounds again. “Room service,” Caleb says cheerily.
Sarah smooths down her sweatshirt and opens the door. Caleb breezes in and places a laden tray on the vanity. The scent of coffee and aftershave is intoxicating, and she wonders if Caleb’s cheeks are smooth under the mask today.
“Are you sure I can’t at least pay you for the food?” Sarah says.
“Don’t worry about it. I bet you don’t eat half of what Elijah does. Hang on a sec.”
He slips out of the room and returns with a stack of books, setting them on the vanity beside the tray. “Not sure if these are your thing, but you said you were a writer. I’m afraid it’s all we have in way of entertainment. We don’t have wifi and the only TV is downstairs.” He shrugs apologetically. “There was never any point in getting internet up here when we spent all our waking hours at the motel.”
Sarah crosses to the vanity and inspects the spines.Bulfinch’s Mythology.Jane Eyre.Heart of Darkness.Macbeth. The Tempest.She opens the front cover ofBulfinch’sand readsJacob Vassincised on the flyleaf in stark black ink. Another white man with a Biblical name. Although she supposes her name’s from the Bible, too.
She must have frowned because Caleb’s eyes crinkle. “I bet you’re wondering why a small-town hick like me has these. Mom taught high school English, and Dad had a thing for ancient Greece. And yes, I actually have read—Hold on.”
Caleb pulls a vibrating cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans. “Hi, Uncle Isaac. Yeah, I brought her up to the house. I put her in Dad’s room. We’ll be safe.”
Safe from the vandals or safe from her? Sarah shapes her face into a pleasant expression, so he can see she’s not a threat.
“What’s that? Fuck. Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He tucks the phone back into his jeans. “Shit. Kaylee Brighton’s been spotted at the drugstore. She’s supposed to stay home since she snuck off to a clandestine party in Huntsville last week. I have to help Uncle Isaac reinforce her quarantine.”
Sarah remembers the plywood in the back of his truck, and she suddenly doesn’t feel like eating.
“I’ll be back by lunchtime. Do you eat burgers? Sal’s in town has the best bacon cheeseburgers. I can grab us takeout.”
