Page 36 of Miserable Marionette

Come down the stairs.

I pause at the bottom, just out of sight, listening to the sound of her shaky breath. Listening to her hesitate. We used to play this game often, and I wonder if she remembers. She hated the basement on her best day, but now and then something innocuous would happen, and she’d convince herself it was haunted again.

She sighs but doesn’t take another step. “Gideon, I know you’re down there. I brought dinner to say thanks for the clock. I’ll leave yours in the foyer.”

I rush toward the bottom, slowing my steps just before I come into view, my eyes finding her pretty hazel ones, her cheeks already flushed. So pretty. So perfect. I’ve tried dozens of shades, and I’ve never even come close. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it.”

Her eyes dart behind me. “Do you have a client?”

I smirk as I reach the top landing, towering over her again. Inhaling her. My eyes tracking the paint smeared across her pretty pale skin. She must not have gotten out a lot last summer. She gasps a little as I lean in. “Why? Do you find it spooky?”

A little indignant sound leaves her throat as she steps back, lifting the bag so that it’s obscuring my view of her. “Double cheeseburger with bacon and ketchup.”

My smirk widens as I walk the rest of the way out of the stairwell. Leaving the door wide open in a dangerous offering before snatching both bags from her paint-smeared palms.

“Hey!” she calls after me as I stalk past her, heading toward the upstairs, waiting for her to follow. And because my perfect girl hasn’t changed, not really, I know she’ll follow, just as well as I know that the next breath from my lungs will exist simply to appease her. That every move I make, that I have ever made, was done with her in the forefront of my mind. She’d be upset to find him like that, but she’d understand… in time.

Audrey has always been reasonable.

I lift her bag, shaking it as she trails along behind me. Resisting the urge to look over my shoulder, to check. “Cheeseburger with extra lettuce, tomato, onion, and mayonnaise.” She used to love mayonnaise so much she’d sneak spoonfuls of it. I even let her feed me a couple any time she asked, despite hating the stuff.

I give in then, as she halts on the stairs. Looking over my shoulder at her wide hazel eyes and messy blonde hair. “Wrong,” she says simply before continuing forward, passing me. Her arm is warm as it brushes mine, making my mind go blank. Debating ripping my dress shirt and demanding she do it again so I can actually feel her this time.

My brows knit together as she heads upstairs, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I got it wrong.

I got it wrong.

And here she is, in my home. On these stairs again.

Perfect and sweet and all the wonderful things that made her mine.

She pauses at the top, turning to look at me, her braid tossed over her shoulder as she places a hand on her hip, waiting.

I don’t move.

I can’t.

My chest feels warm and heavy, each breath thicker than the last. Like looking through a lens of what could’ve been had I never left. Her hair messy, rumpled from sleep because I kept her in bed all day. A mug full of tea I made for her clasped between her hands, warming her palms. Her denim overalls would be a robe, loosely tied. There wouldn’t be a dead man… well, a man I killed in the basement because everyone would’ve already known, they never would’ve forgotten that Audrey Emma Fisher was off fucking limits. I wouldn’t have spent the last ten years of my life trying to picture her just like this. Trying to imagine what a grown-up version of her would look like and failing to create it every time. Taking the things I knew of her before I left, forming them into a woman, the wrong woman.

“I told them to leave off the onions this time,” she offers.

“Why?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t want my breath to stink.”

I hike a brow at that, finally remembering how to work my own two feet. “Planning to kiss me, Audrey?”

She rolls her eyes. “Never.”

I smirk.

17

Sticks & Stones

Audrey, Present Day, 1994

I’ve never eaten a burger so slow in my life.