A loud crash of dishes blares over the howling winds and crackles of fire. I jump in my seat while my heart leaps to my throat. Merelyn slowly shifts her gaze over my shoulder. I follow her worried gaze, and it lands upon Gavin’s cold expression. His chest rises and falls like he’s trying to catch his breath. He clenches his jaw, and we hold each other’s stare for a good five seconds, but it feels like minutes.
“Gavin, honey, everything alright?” Merelyn’s concerned tone rings into our ears, and she tilts her head to the side like she’s trying to figure him out.
He gives me one last disapproving glare and then forces himself to turn to Merelyn. He deadpans, becoming unpredictable like the day we first met.
“Going to go see the horses and make sure they’re okay. Thank you for dinner.” He cups her shoulder softly, not meeting my eyes.
She nods in response. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out the familiar red and white pack of cigarettes, and walks outside, disappearing into the darkness. He shuts his door harder than normal—the once peaceful mood shifts into something tense.
Why is he so upset? He knows I’m leaving soon. I have to go. It’s inevitable.
I turn back to my almost empty plate with a sudden loss of appetite.
“Coraline. The closest neighbor is about twenty miles away. Gavin owns most of this land up here.”
All of this land is Gavin’s?
Does Gavin come from money?
“Merelyn. How did Gavin’s parents pass?”
She stiffens.
“He hasn’t told you?”
“No.”
“I’m not surprised. He’s never talked much.” She sighs, taking in a deep breath before her wandering eyes land on mine. She massages her fingers apprehensively. “Dear… the Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer murdered them.”
CHAPTER 23
CORALINE
Igasp and almost choke on my dinner. Coughing, I reach for my water and down it fast.
The Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer? The same one from the newspaper?
“What? A serial killer?” I don’t want to believe it. It’s too shocking and too horrible. No wonder Gavin was so upset when I decorated his home with his parents’ decorations. It must remind him of them, doesn’t it?
Grief is pain that sticks with you forever; no matter how much time passes, the cut still bleeds.
“That’s awful.”
Merelyn frowns.
“Yes. Truly awful. I don’t want to talk about the details. It was a terrible, horrible tragedy that took its toll on my Gavin. This is the home he grew up in and the home his parents were killed in.” She waves her hand over her head. “His mother was my best friend. Her name was Barbara. She was so beautiful. Truly an amazing friend, mother, and wife. Gone way too soon and died way too young. She didn’t deserve the way she went out.” Her shoulders shrink. Pain is written allover her face. “Being a mother was her entire world. She loved her son with all her heart and soul. Gavin looks a lot like her.”
“And his dad?” The worddadis a privilege. It feels bitter on my tongue to ask about the cruel man who gave his son scars. Scars he tries to hide but fails. He doesn’t deserve that title after the vile things he did to Gavin.
Her mood drops. The lines on her forehead deepen.
“He got nothing from his father but the love for the outdoors; that’s it.” By the way her tone sharpens, we share the same ideas about him.
“He told me bits and pieces about what his father would do to him, and I don’t like him.”
“Yeah, well, no one liked him. I love Gavin like my own son, and I loved Barbara like my sister. She made me promise I would be the one to care for him if anything happened to her. Somehow, she knew her time was running out.” Her eyes redden. She stands, gathering her plate, but I grip the dish, stopping her.
“Oh, I got it, Merelyn, please sit down. I can clean up; it’s the least I can do. Dinner was absolutely delicious.”
