“What? That hurts.” I press my hand to my chest in mock pain, but in reality, her words do sting.
“Look.” She grabs her phone and taps a few times, then hands me the device.
On it is a picture of an adorable small ranch house with a covered front porch, a tiny lawn, and an actual white picket fence.
“What’s this?”
“It’s a house in Seattle. The suburbs. I probably can’t afford it right now, but that’s the goal. Start over in a place like that. Leave all this drama far behind me.”
“Got it.” I nod and give the phone back to her with a smile, but it feels overly forced. Right. She’s trying to get away from the criminal life. She’s told me that already.
I’d never be the someone Callie would choose. Not after the life she’s led so far with her asshole husband and her worthless father and brother.
She doesn’t want to be here anymore, and certainly not anywhere near me.
Callie pulls away, and I feel something akin to regret. Regret for what? I am who I am, and there’s nothing that would change that. And even if I did change for her, I can’t erase all the things I’ve done in the past. All the white picket fences in the world won’t bring back the people I’ve helped kill.
Someone like Callie doesn’t belong with someone like me. I’ll have to keep reminding myself of that. Maybe in a parallel universe she and I could be something. A universe in which my family is still alive, and Noah and I weren’t pushed into becoming serial killers.
But not in this one.
Chapter 16
The Tattoos Gave it Away
CALLIE
You are exactly the type of person I should not be friends with.
Did I really say that as I drove away? After going to Lake Savage with the specific goal of finding Wes? I regretted those words as soon as they left my mouth. A hurt look flashed on his face just as I drove away.
I’m such an asshole.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I’m stepping into the apartment, but I ignore it for now.
“Hello?” I call into the space, checking for my brother as I shrug off my winter jacket and hang it on a hook by the door. “Jake?”
There’s no answer, so I head to the kitchen.
I realize something. I should avoid Wes because he’s too distracting. Too tempting. Too much for my broken soul to handle.
I should tell him never to contact me again. Never to show up at Jake’s apartment or Killer Beans or wherever Ihappen to be, because he’ll definitely know where I am. He’s tracking me, and that should scare me.
I could tell him to send me the address as to where I can find Shane when he gets it, then I can fucking Venmo him money. Something tells me he’d listen to me.
And I certainly shouldn’t do things like driving around looking for him or openly flirting with him or drooling over the shirtless pictures he sends.
But it’s been so long—forever?—since I had someone appear to be so interested in me. With Shane, once he secured his spot in my family thanks to our marriage, he lost all interest in me as a person. I was a tool for him. An in to the men in the group.
I wish I had more pie.
I fix myself a cheese sandwich—I really need to go grocery shopping—and settle at the kitchen island. My phone buzzes again when I have the first bite in my mouth.
Unknown
glad you got home safe
I choke on the dry bread and am afraid I’m going to have to perform the Heimlich on myself, but I manage to swallow before I die.
