But her sister shouldn’t be an ex-nun, now should she? If Gena had taken control of her life, if she’d been strong enough, then her sister wouldn’t have had to quit her calling to take care of little Mia.
Now, Mia’s life was fucked, too. All because of Gena.
For some reason, employing the f-word truly cheered Gena up. Gingerly picking up her other foot, she set it down on the deck.
Holy Mary Mother of God. She was standing outside.
Sure, her nails bit into the shredded wood of the doorframe, and her butt was still inside, but the rest of her body was outside. She glanced behind her. Nope. Her butt was outside, too. Man. When had she lost so much weight? She’d had curves at one time.
The sun was just beginning to dip behind the mountains. Darkness would arrive soon. She wanted to die before it was too dark.
The world was dark enough as it was.
She wanted to perform the sign of the cross but making the gesture would be unforgivable. Especially considering what she was about to do.
So she took two steps onto the deck.
Panic rippled through her stomach in a pain strong enough to make her teeth clench. But it was about to be over. She couldn’t get the thought of that killer out of her head, or the image of his blood splattered all over her nice curtains.
Her daughter had done the right thing in saving her, but why did Mia have to be the one to save her? Why was she an FBI agent? Or an ex-agent. Did her need to balance the scales stem from her ordeals in foster care? That was Gena’s fault.
If Gena had been strong enough, tough like Mia, she wouldn’t have lost her daughter to the system more than once. Dotty had left the church to step in, and that had hurther.
Gena caused hurt. She didn’t mean to do it, but that was the result. Everyone would be better off with her gone.
She already felt gone most of the time. The surreal sense around her, when her brain played games, made the difference between reality and imagination hard to distinguish.
It was time for the reality to go away.
The trees rose high around her, opposing and deadly. The spit in her mouth dried up. Taking a deep breath, she shoved her body into motion.
Almost like a wind-up toy, she propelled herself across the deck and down the five steps. She counted each one in her head—they were the last steps she’d ever take. Too bad they were warped. The last steps someone took should be nice and smooth.
Story of her life.
The lake beckoned her. Mysterious, deep, and a dark blue…the water waited. Solitude and safety waited. Sand crunched under her feet, and oblivious to the cold, she kicked off her tennis shoes, remaining in her pink socks. Her gaze stayed on the still water.
A memory of a good day when Mia had been about five took hold. They’d gone to the lake and had a picnic, and the sun had been so bright. What a lovely day to remember right now. Gena would take it with her as she went.
She really did need to go.
Her baby would be better off without her. Her sister could finally go on with her life. And Gena wouldn’t have to hurt any longer. She was so very tired.
Suddenly, she perched at the water’s edge.
Cold.
The lake was so cold.
But warmth and peace slumbered beneath the surface. She just had to keep walking until nothing hurt anymore. The water would take away all the pain.
Straightening her shoulders, she took another step forward, and the chill spread through her socks and up her ankles.
A huge splash threw water to cover her shirt. She raised her hands in protest, jerking her face to keep from being doused. A low growl filtered across the water. Numb, she slowly turned her head to the side. The sight was too unbelievable to comprehend.
Snarling, dangerous, and golden-brown, a massive wolf bared its teeth and jumped right in front of her. More water splashed up, and she shut her eyes, holding up her hands.
Then, silence.
