Wow, this person was trusting, not even asking for my name or a copy of my ID first. But that was living in a small mountain town, where they didn’t worry about a potential renter being a serial killer.
Big city, this was not.
Shaking my head, I waited for the address to come through. When it did, I blinked at it, shocked by the coincidence. Not the house where I’d grown up, but the one right across the street.
The Landrys’ old place.
There were so many reasons I should forget about that rental notice and look for something else, not least of which the possibility that Piper’s family still owned it. After all, I’d seen the notice in her coffee shop.
But this was the only decent, affordable option I’d found thatcould fit my needs.
I’ll be there
If Piper was the landlord and decided to slam the door in my face, so be it. I’d already told her the story of my last commercial rental in Seattle, which had gone all kinds of wrong.
I’d just have to wait and see.
NINE
Grayden
I spentthe next two hours in a quiet park, reading a paperback with my knit hat pulled low and coat zipped high. My glasses kept fogging up. It was cold today, and the snow from Thanksgiving Day was still thick on the ground.
The words of my paperback pulled me in. Transported me to another time and place, another identity, which was the thing I loved most about reading. This one was set in the far future with heavy symbolism and social commentary, but also a fast sci-fi plot and some hot sex thrown in too. I was tearing through it.
Maybe I’d stop by Silver Linings to look for another read after I finished. Assuming I was still allowed in there, between Dillon’s evil eye and Piper’s wish to avoid me.
When it was time for my appointment at the house for rent, I took off my glasses, jumped in my truck, and drove out to my old neighborhood.
This was a different side of Silver Ridge. Only a ten-minute trip, yet we were far from the cutesy, touristy charm of Main Street. A humble mix of homes and businesses spread out before me, with tall pine trees and dead grasses dotting the spaces between.
I drove past an unassuming barber shop on a corner. Amotorcycle repair shop, with a row of bikes for sale out front, all gleaming chrome and leather.
Reminded me of the Yamaha Supersport my buddy had in the Army. He used to let me borrow it.Before.
A pang of bitterness hit me in the center of my chest.
Then two clapboard houses appeared up ahead. I parked my truck at the curb and got out, glancing around.
My childhood home sat on the right side of the street. But I barely recognized the place. The former O’Neal residence was now tidy and freshly painted a cheerful yellow, and the sidewalks were cleared of snow.
My memories of this house were complicated. There were the Christmases before our mom died. Dinners laughing around the kitchen table with tiny Grace and our brothers.
And nights when my dad and I would scream at each other, back before he took off for good and before I left for the military.
My hands flexed at my sides. Shoving them in my pockets, I made myself breathe slowly through my nose.
I turned left, toward the Landry house. Where Teller and Piper had lived.
There was a For Rent sign out front that looked brand new, but the rest of the house had seen better days. The paint was faded and peeling in places. The roof was missing some shingles. Not falling apart, exactly. Just tired. I could relate.
Fuck, this was strange. The present and the past colliding, and I didn’t know how to make sense of it all.
Instead of going straight up to the front door, I walked around the side. Telling myself I was just checking out the property, getting a feel for the place. Not avoiding anything.
Sure.
That’s when I heard Piper’s voice. “I’m sick of your excuses, Danny.”
