Mattie’s mouth falls open, and tears pool at the bottom of her eyes. All the fire in them is gone. “What am I going to do. What am I going to do?” Her voice is pleading, and that uncomfortable feeling stirs in my chest again.
“Did you not hear me? I’m leading him awry, and if that doesn’t work, Mattie, I’ll take care of him. No one, and I mean no one, is allowed to hurt you except for me.”
She sniffs and moves her boot around in the gravel. “That’s not as comforting as you think it is, you know?”
My eyes narrow, and I storm across the few feet between us until her nose almost touches my chest. “Mattie, you’re going to walk into that bar and pretend like it’s just another day. Don’t fucking give yourself away because you think you’ve already been caught.”
“You don’t understand. People like him already look down on people like me. Even if I wasn’t guilty, I already am because I’m poor. Because I’m a female. Because I’m an outcast. All those things they already consider a crime.” Tears stream down her face, but a hint of a flame returns to flicker in her eyes.
“Money is only one type of power, little bug. That darkness in you is power too.” I reach my hand out and stroke her cheek, thumbing across the tracks of her tears.
“I’m just so exhausted from keeping this act up, day in and day out. I killed those men, and they fucking deserved it. Before them, I tried to contain myself. I surrounded myself with normal people, tried to contain my pain and my rage. I let myself become a ghost. I just wanted to be something to them, to be a story they told. Anything to make me not this, but I’m done giving away pieces of myself to feel something.” A heavy sigh comes from her lips, and she closes her eyes before leaning in to me.
“I just wanted to feel like a normal girl, not this broken mess. But broken glass can still cut you. I got sick of being abused by assholes in the bar, so I became the dangerous one. I started picking them off instead. I didn’t want to accidentally hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
My arms wrap around her and pull her deeper into me. She doesn’t need to explain herself. I’d help her clean the stains from this Earth without asking a single question. The last person I saw disrespect her was dead before they hit the ground. I push her back so I can look into those emerald eyes that never fail to tear through me. “Mattie, you’re going to go into that bar and hold yourself up like the goddess of death you are. You will not give him a damn thing other than the gift of being in your presence. I will handle the rest.”
“Please don’t leave me here alone,” she whispers, gripping my arms with her small hands.
“You’re never alone,” I whisper back to her and tap the vial hanging from her neck. “I’ll be right outside watching.” I kiss the top of her head before releasing her. Her sweet scent fills my nostrils, but the darkness in it is growing. Her vanilla and lavender is now mixed with an undeniable smokiness. I’m not sure how much time I have left to figure out how to complete the ritual.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
mattie
The Foxfire back door feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I drag it open. Electricity sizzles through every nerve, and I let out a shaky exhale. I need to get my shit together before I make my presence known. My stranger is right—I still hold all the power over my fate. I just have to not fuck it up. A warm rough hand wraps around my elbow, and I about jump out of my skin. “Shit, Wiley. You scared me.”
“There’s no boogers in here, darlin’,” Wiley chuckles. His deep voice sends waves of calm through my nervous system. My wide eyes relax and take him in. I’ve always suspected he could see through the mask I put on each time I step through the door. “Whatever you’re going through, girl, this too shall pass. You cain’t keep a bird from flyin’ over your head, but you can keep it from buildin’ a nest.” With those words, he gives my elbow a squeeze and heads off to the front. He’s mostly right, except I can keep that bird from flying over me if I get rid of it.
I roll my head around in a circle, roll my shoulders back, and shake out my arms. I can do this. I’ve come back to the bar more than once after a kill. I can face whatever is out there waiting for me. I’ve done this act before, and I can do it again. I blow out one last breath through my teeth and head out to the bar.
The night’s already in full swing. The jukebox is blasting some old outlaw country song. Tally is busy as a bee, sliding drinks across the surprisingly busy bar top. Before I can even take it all in, I feel a heavy gaze lock onto me. The sheriff is sitting on a corner stool, his dull brown eyes already glazed with an empty glass in front of him. I try to look busy and head to the other end, but I see him raise two fingers at me from the corner of my eye.
Shit.
My mouth strains at the corners as I plaster on my biggest smile. “What can I get ya?” I push out my hip and lean into the back of the bar. Should I try to oversell it, flip my ponytail and bat my eyelashes like I’ve seen Tally do? I’d probably end up looking like a pig wearing lipstick if I tried. My thoughts race, and I realize his mouth is moving, but I haven’t heard a single word. Noncommittally, I mumble out a hum, hoping like hell he will repeat himself.
“I said I was drinking beer, but now that you’re here, I think I’ll switch to bourbon,” the sheriff drawls out in lazy, half-drunk words. He taps the empty beer glass in front of him for emphasis with a smirk.
“We don’t have anythin’ fancy, but I’ll pour ya the best we got,” I say, swiping up the glass and heading to the wall of bottles behind me. I try to keep my voice sweet, but the effort of it has the glass slipping on my sweaty palms.
Tally strides up next to me, bumping me with her hip and tossing her head behind her. “That him?” Her eyebrows dance, and she sashays away again, giggling to herself. If only the ground would open up and swallow me right now, it would be a kinder fate than working the rest of this shift.
I fill the glass until it’s half-full of amber liquid. Maybe if I keep pouring with a heavy hand, I can make our interaction less painful. The sheriff smiles and swirls the glass, examining it as though I might try to poison him. It’s not such a bad idea. Uneasiness settles in the pit of my stomach as he locks eyes with me and pulls the glass to his mouth. He smacks his lips after he swallows, and I fight back the bile in the back of my throat.
“So, Miss Gibson.” How the fuck does this guy know my last name? “How long have you been working here?”
I force a smile and lean back against the counter behind me. “For a good spell.” I need to keep my answers short but friendly.
“I see,” he says, taking a slow sip of bourbon. “Not a lot of people know you.”
Okay, I’m not sure how to take that. No, a lot of people don’t know me. Even fewer know I kill men and then dump them in the lake behind my cabin. Shit, I can’t say that, so instead, I shrug. “I don’t suppose I know a lot of people.”
He puffs his chest out with a laugh and raises an eyebrow at me. “I’d like to get to know you. Why don’t you take a break and come take a seat?” He leans to the side with a slight wobble and pats the stool next to him.
Panic and anger flood my body simultaneously. I can’t tell if he’s hitting on me or trying to interrogate me, but either way, I’m not about to sit next to him. I shake my head and laugh. Any inclination to continue to indulge his questions is long gone. “Let me know when you’re ready for another,” I laugh, whipping out my bar towel towards his glass.
The sheriff’s lean frame stiffens, and short, hard bursts of air come from his flared nostrils. Untamed strands of dirty blond hair are sticking to his forehead that’s now slick with drunken sweat. A perverse smile spreads across his face. “You don’t think I’ve looked into you? You don’t think I know exactly who you are? I’m the sheriff of this damn county, and I’ve got your number.”
