Slaughter Daughter by Eve Langlais
23
Falling,apparently.
Startled, I lost my grip, only I didn’t hit the ground. Arms rescued me, and I looked into a familiar face. Mathews, whose first name I still didn’t know.
“Hi,” I said as he set me on my feet. “Thanks for catching me.”
“Why are you climbing the fence?”
“There’s a mob out front.”
“Was a mob. The police just arrived and broke it up.”
“So Kalinda’s okay?”
“Kalinda is taking pictures of the damage and talking about suing loud enough for anyone lingering to hear.”
“How did you get in the yard?”
He pointed behind. “Side gate was unlocked.”
“And you just sauntered in.”
“Yup. Figured you’d either stayed inside or decided to bolt.”
“I’m not a fan of being torn limb from limb.”
Rather than laugh and say I was exaggerating, he remained serious. “At least you were thinking. Now that the crowd’s gone, you might want to think about going out the front door.”
“I think someone was inside.”
“That explains the piss-poor attempt at climbing.”
“I would have been fine if you’d not startled me,” I grumbled. Worst case, I fell and broke my neck. Hmm. Probably a good thing he interrupted.
“You’re a veritable mountain goat, but my jeans are tight, and I’m not following.”
“Who says I want you to follow?”
He rolled his eyes. “Do you really want to climb that fence?”
“Are you sure the mob is gone?”
“Most of them. A couple might have stayed behind because of the cops.” He tugged me by the hand. “Come on. It’s safe now.”
Not entirely. I dug in my heels. “I don’t want to deal with the cops.”
“They’re not here to arrest you.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” I exclaimed.
“You can’t hide in the yard forever. And you might want to move out of the house. It doesn’t seem too safe.”
“I’ve actually more or less moved out already. We were just grabbing some stuff.”
“Then let me take you to your new home. Where are you staying?” He’d obviously not heard. Surprising, given campus rumors usually ran faster than the speed of light.
“I’d rather not go there yet. Do you have your car? Can we go for a ride?”
“Yeah. I’m parked the next block over.”
I eyed the fence. “Give me a boost.”
“I thought you weren’t going to climb anymore.”
“If I’m going to avoid people, then I can’t go out the front. Give me a boost and pick me up on the other side.”
He sighed. “Fine.” I made it over intact with his help and moved quickly, lest the homeowner peek outside and see me using their yard as a shortcut.
I made it to the street before he did and took a minute to reply to Kalinda’s text of: Where are you??????
I typed a short reply. Safe.
Where?
With a friend.
Was Mathews my friend? He did seem to have a habit of appearing when I needed someone.
Which, in retrospect, should have triggered my suspicion. His car rounded the block and slowed to let me in. Only as we sped away did I ask, “Why were you at the house?”
“I was hoping to talk to you.”
“Really? What about?”
“Leaving town.”
“Oh.” Just a small, deflated sound.
He slammed the car to a stop and glanced at me. “Not for the reason you think. Fuck. Give me a second to find a place we can talk.”
He ended up choosing a church parking lot of all places. An abandoned one showing crime scene tape fluttering across the door going inside. A shiver went through me.
“Isn’t this where they found the first pentagram?” The fake one.
“Yeah. Sorry. I forgot about it.” He grimaced, but when he would have thrown the car into reverse, I put my hand over his.
He stilled.
“It’s okay. It’s private, which is good, I guess. Unless you’re planning to murder me.” My laughter wasn’t entirely false.
“I would never kill, but I will warn. I think you’re in danger, Abby.”
“Kind of late on that one, Mathews.”
“Braedon. My name is Braedon.”
“Nice to finally meet you,” I teased.
His serious mien slipped into a half-smile. “I guess I never did properly introduce myself.”
“Nope. Too busy giving me shit and now telling me to get out of your town.”
“It’s for your safety. Something’s afoot, and you’re in danger.”
“Welcome to my life.” I pushed out of his car and, with nowhere to go, headed for the church. The yellow tape fluttered against me as I passed.
I’d admit to a moment of trepidation when I entered the building, a little worried that I might get struck down. An atheist with suspected serial killer parents, I didn’t believe in God. Yet, at the same time, worried one existed.
The pews were wooden, once dark and gleaming, now dusty and scratched. Many had toppled and splintered; others held spray-painted messages that weren’t very nice.
A crunch of debris from behind indicated that Braedon had followed.
I whirled. “Why do you keep coming to my rescue when it’s clear you don’t like me?”
“Never said I didn’t like you. But I do think you should keep better company.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, handsome and preppy. Solid, too, with a hint of a hard edge.
“Is this a warning about my friends?” I arched a brow.
“You can’t trust them. They’re not who you think,” he insisted.
“Let me guess. I should trust you, though,” I scoffed.
“I’m trying to help.”
“By being bossy. And when questioned, intentionally vague.”
“If I told you the truth, you wouldn’t believe me.”
I arched a brow. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because it took me seeing proof before I was convinced. And even then…” He rubbed a hand over his face. “You have to trust me when I say you’re in danger. Your friends are lying to you.”
“Says you.”
“Why must you be so stubborn?”
“Why is that always the accusation when I won’t unilaterally obey? I’m allowed to have an opinion, and in the absence of proof, I form my own judgments. It tells me my friends aren’t the problem.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair, tousling his blond locks. “There are things you don’t know.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t. I made a promise.”
“Convenient,” was my sarcastic reply.
“Not really. Because despite everything, in spite of my vow, I want to protect you.” He sounded almost put out.
“I don’t need saving.” And what vow was he talking about?
“Are you sure about that?” A wryness imbued his query.
“Don’t tell me your new mission in life is to save me from myself,” I quipped.
“Do you think I want to feel this way? I think about you all the time.”
“Creepy.”
His eyes widened. Then he laughed. “I swear nothing nefarious.”
“Big words.”
“You’re always sarcastic.” He shook his head.
“It’s a defense mechanism.”
“You know, when I met you, knowing what I did, I expected someone different.”
“Rough and tough bitch?” I asked.
“You’re tough but soft, too. I’m pretty sure my last cat was more evil than you.”
My lips twisted. “What an endorsement.”
“You’re special, Abby. I can’t resist it, even as I know I should.”
“Try harder. Because you and I will never be a thing.”
“Why not?”
I opened my mouth to say…what? It wasn’t as if I had a boyfriend. Sure, Jag might have seduced me, but he’d made no promises. I remained unsure if he even liked me. “You’re not my type.” Too clean-cut. Too out of my league.
The very idea had me frowning. What made me think he was better than me?
“You haven’t even given me a chance,” he said, moving closer.
“It’s not the right time.”
He stared down at me. “Why?”
“Do I really need to spell it out? You’ve seen the shit happening around me.”
“And? I know you’re not a killer.”
The statement had tears pricking the backs of my eyes. Why did I care what he thought? “My life’s too complicated for a relationship.”
“Even one that might ease the burden?”
“How?”
“By showing you’re not alone,” he said before he kissed me.
Where Jag had been all hard passion, Braedon was sweet sensuality. He kissed me as if we had all the time in the world, his mouth sweet and exploratory against mine, his hands firm on my waist.
His breath was hot. My blood surged. Awareness flared. Things might have gotten more heated, but my phone rang.
Since like only three people had my number, I couldn’t exactly ignore it. Stepping away from Braedon and the passion boiling in my veins, I pulled out my cell just as the call went to voicemail. A text from Kalinda immediately followed.
You need to come home right now. They found another pentagram.
