Page 55
Story: Cruel Secrets
I run my fingers along the polished wood railing, my foot skating over the bottom step and hitting the floor.
“Shit.” I catch myself at the last second, but as I spin, there’s a dim orange glow coming from outside near the dock.
Looks like Royce is home.
What I don’t know is why he’s standing outside near a fire, the lit end of a cigarette glowing against the dark forest and riverbank that surrounds him.
He doesn’t look like he wants anyone to stand with him, but there’s a little voice in the back of my mind telling me I should go out there.
When we used to be together, it wasn’t uncommon for him to need some time to himself. We’d be at a lake enjoying a long weekend, and then he would go off and I would find him sitting by the fire and just staring at it.
Back then, he used to say that it calmed him when his mind was at war with itself.
Setting the baby monitor to the side, I grab a pair of his heavy leather boots, stuffing my feet inside before opening the closet and finding a corduroy jacket.
I pull it on, zipping it up and shoving the sleeves up past my wrists.
After turning up the volume on the baby monitor, I stuff that in my pocket and head outside.
There’s something not right about the way Royce holds himself.
It’s like he’s tense and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Royce!”
Not a single flinch comes from his direction. It’s like he’s in another world, not paying attention to anything around him.
It sends a chill down my spine.
Whatever has him spaced out has to be bad.
“Royce,” I say, tone a little softer as I get closer to him, hoping it draws him from the trance he’s in.
He glances at me over his shoulder, shifting to the side and looking back down at the fire.
I hurry closer to him. “Come back inside. It’s cold out here and it’s probably going to start snowing soon.”
There’s nothing but silence to meet my words, his shoulders tensing. He takes another drag of the cigarette between his lips, taking a couple steps to the other side of the fire, still ignoring me.
This man is going to be the death of me.
Hell, that’s only if I don’t kill him first for ignoring me like this.
He’s a ghost of the person he normally is. There’s no light in his eyes as he watches me over the top of the fire, and the cruel tilt to his mouth is one I don’t recognize.
Right now, I should be running for the hills. I should go back inside and pretend that I didn’t come out here in the first place. It would be easier for both of us.
But instead, I get closer, rounding the barrel containing the fire and standing beside him.
He takes the cigarette from his lips, flicking the ash into the fire before he turns to face me. “You should be inside. It’s the middle of the night.”
“You should be inside.” I grimace, wishing that I was wearing more than just one of his shirts beneath his jacket. The cold wind has smoke curling in the air and goosebumps forming on my legs.
Royce rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now, Gia.”
“What’re you doing out here?” I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep them warm.
Even the warmth coming from the fire isn’t enough to heat me through. I step closer to it, and it’s only when I do that I see the dark shirt and jeans burning.
“Shit.” I catch myself at the last second, but as I spin, there’s a dim orange glow coming from outside near the dock.
Looks like Royce is home.
What I don’t know is why he’s standing outside near a fire, the lit end of a cigarette glowing against the dark forest and riverbank that surrounds him.
He doesn’t look like he wants anyone to stand with him, but there’s a little voice in the back of my mind telling me I should go out there.
When we used to be together, it wasn’t uncommon for him to need some time to himself. We’d be at a lake enjoying a long weekend, and then he would go off and I would find him sitting by the fire and just staring at it.
Back then, he used to say that it calmed him when his mind was at war with itself.
Setting the baby monitor to the side, I grab a pair of his heavy leather boots, stuffing my feet inside before opening the closet and finding a corduroy jacket.
I pull it on, zipping it up and shoving the sleeves up past my wrists.
After turning up the volume on the baby monitor, I stuff that in my pocket and head outside.
There’s something not right about the way Royce holds himself.
It’s like he’s tense and waiting for the other shoe to drop.
“Royce!”
Not a single flinch comes from his direction. It’s like he’s in another world, not paying attention to anything around him.
It sends a chill down my spine.
Whatever has him spaced out has to be bad.
“Royce,” I say, tone a little softer as I get closer to him, hoping it draws him from the trance he’s in.
He glances at me over his shoulder, shifting to the side and looking back down at the fire.
I hurry closer to him. “Come back inside. It’s cold out here and it’s probably going to start snowing soon.”
There’s nothing but silence to meet my words, his shoulders tensing. He takes another drag of the cigarette between his lips, taking a couple steps to the other side of the fire, still ignoring me.
This man is going to be the death of me.
Hell, that’s only if I don’t kill him first for ignoring me like this.
He’s a ghost of the person he normally is. There’s no light in his eyes as he watches me over the top of the fire, and the cruel tilt to his mouth is one I don’t recognize.
Right now, I should be running for the hills. I should go back inside and pretend that I didn’t come out here in the first place. It would be easier for both of us.
But instead, I get closer, rounding the barrel containing the fire and standing beside him.
He takes the cigarette from his lips, flicking the ash into the fire before he turns to face me. “You should be inside. It’s the middle of the night.”
“You should be inside.” I grimace, wishing that I was wearing more than just one of his shirts beneath his jacket. The cold wind has smoke curling in the air and goosebumps forming on my legs.
Royce rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now, Gia.”
“What’re you doing out here?” I tuck my hands in my pockets to keep them warm.
Even the warmth coming from the fire isn’t enough to heat me through. I step closer to it, and it’s only when I do that I see the dark shirt and jeans burning.
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