Page 35

Story: Grim Girl

‘Just one more sip, okay?’

I didn’t argue. I let him put the straw back up to my lips and sucked a little bit more. The chill was nice. Refreshing. And over to quick when my mouth heated it up in an instant. Still, I swallowed, then took another sip when he wiggled the straw in front of me one more time. Eventually, though he wasn’t satisfied with the piddling amount I had managed to suck down, he gave up and placed the glass on the bedside cabinet. I could reach it if I tried, but my arms felt too heavy to move.

‘How’s the business?’ I dredged up enough energy to ask.

‘Fine. Same as always.’

The corner of my mouth twitched in the memory of a grin. ‘Don’t need my pretty smile to bring in the customers, huh?’

He snorted, the sound loud and unattractive enough that I coughed out a short laugh. ‘The show goes on, kid.’

I didn’t want the silence to extend the way it had before, so I asked him about his family. I was genuinely interested in the answer, but I had never been one to sit in awkward silence. My role had always been to fill the quiet with noise. If there was sound, there was life, and I breathed all of it in as much as I could. My entire life had been filled with small moments that, to me, were big. Children’s laughter at a playground might have been background noise to others, but it was a reminder to me that though I would never have that for myself, others were lucky to experience the extension of life and the joy of building a family. The sun rising on a Monday morning might have filled others with dread, but for me, it was another day to live to the fullest, to experienceallthat life had to offer. I never took a moment for granted.

I listened with rapt attention as Davey regaled me with stories of his daughters, his wife, and the life they led. He told me about their dog, Perry, and how he had peed all over the neighbour’s flowers again, setting off yet another neighbour war that he took great pleasure in despite the animosity it wrought. I listened tohim talk about his wife, Gina, and the countless hobbies she was picking up that drained their bank accounts, but I could see in the way his eyes crinkled in the corners that he didn’t mind, because his wife was happy.

His gruff voice was relaxing in its familiarity. Davey wasn’t one to talk much, but when he did, it was always something worth listening to. I was one of the very few people he was so open with, and I took comfort in the fact that his life would go on just fine without me. He would have the campsite to keep him afloat. He had his family to keep him on his toes. He had his daughter’s lives to look forward to as they grew into women and started families and careers of their own.

Yeah. He was here because he cared, but he didn’t need me, and that gave me peace.

His growly cadence lulled me to sleep, and I drifted off again with acceptance of my fate.

Chapter 16

Dakota

My gaze tracked the large, grumpy chef as he left the house for the third time today. He had been checking in on Rhodes more frequently as the poor man’s health continued to decline. Rhodes hadn’t gotten up out of bed for a few days now, relying on the rest of us to care for him while his body failed. It was heartbreaking to watch, but caring for him had given me something to focus on, something good that had absolutely nothing to do with my still missing husband.

Mallory and Calvin had left not long after Florence had stormed off home in a huff. Chance turning her down had caused a strange tension between my in-laws, but I didn’t have the capacity to care. Not when their son was a fuckingmurderer, and they either knew and did nothing, or were completely oblivious to the monster they had raised.

The more I thought back on Blake’s behaviours, the odd little things here and there that I had dismissed as nothing more than a quirk, or a bad mood I had believed was the result of an off day at work, everything was coming together to form a gruesome picture of death and carnage, of secrets and betrayal, and my heart fuckinghurt.

The police had shown up to question Rhodes again, but he had been asleep, and no one wanted to disturb him. His nurse, Jessica, had also come by to visit a few times. They spoke at length of responsibilities that needed to continue on after his passing, and I learned that his parents were still alive but sick, too, residing in a nearby care home for full-time care with their dementia and Alzheimer’s. He had no siblings, no cousins, no real family to care for him, and though Jessica and Davey tried their best, they both led busy lives and couldn’t be there for him twenty-four-seven. So, when all the others left, I elected to stay behind.

More went into that decision than helping Rhodes, however. The police had also been in contact with me, and I chose to stick around to help with their investigation. They had convinced me that it was prudent that I act ignorant, that staying in the campground (or close to) would project the image of the concerned wife. So, Mikey had helped me move my things into Rhode’s spare room.

He was such a sweet man. He had parked his RV in Rhodes’ driveway, where he had decided to stay for the duration of the investigation. He claimed it was because of Chance and Kali, but while I didn’t doubt that for a second, I could also see how he worried about me. He fussed over me like a mother hen, constantly checking in to make sure I was okay. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but I knew he chose to stick close for me. He could have stayed at the campsite, but he had chosen to move himself as close as possible, and I could have been more grateful for him. In a strange turn of events, he had become my rock in this whirlwind of chaos and heartbreak.

He sat by me now, both of us sipping coffees at Rhodes’ kitchen table, the spread of paranormal investigation equipment spread out in front of us. Mikey had set up different devices all over the property, though the bulk of it remained within thewooded area that separated our property from Blake’s secret lair. My mind kept conjuring up images of what it looked like. Would he be nondescript, a typical house on a large plot of land that looked picturesque, just like everything else in his life? Or would it be creepy, rundown, and offensive to all the senses?

The picture I envisioned oscillated between the two. Sometimes, they took off so far in one direction or the other that I got the sense of either false safety or pure dread, but other times, they merged. Those were the images that struck me the most. A pretty little house on a well-manicured lawn, surrounded by the green of the trees and the trickle of the Little Deschutes River running lazily through the property. It was inviting. It was a lie. Because inside, it was a house of horrors. Blood stained every surface, dripping down walls and pooling in puddles, seeping through the floorboards and filling the space with the scent of iron and rot. I pictured severed body parts taxidermized and displayed proudly on the walls: head, legs, arms, even a case full of fingernails and locks of white hair, a perfect match for Kali’s.

The worst ones were the nightmares. I wasn’t me, I was her. Kali. Bound and gagged and held hostage in some sort of torture chamber. The dream would always be the same. Blake would run his fingers tenderly over weapons and other torture devices, humming a haunting tune beneath his breath as he carefully chose which tool to use to cause the most harm. It was a different tool each time. Sometimes it was a knife. Others, a scalpel. A chainsaw. A machete. A medieval contraption straight from the horrors of the past.

He would stalk closer to where I was bound in the centre of a room, a surgical mask covering the lower half of his face, but I could see the malice in his eyes. They would crinkle at the corners like he was smiling behind the mask, and I knew, I justknew,that even if it was a dream, that was how he looked to his victims before they died.

Smug.

Powerful.

Evil.

I shivered in my seat, the memory of last night’s nightmare refusing to budge no matter how hard I tried to distract myself.

Mikey noticed. Of course he did. He was always watching, always making sure I didn’t crumble into a pathetic mass of tears and snot like I had a few days ago. The news had taken a while to hit, but when it had, I couldn’t handle it. I had completely fallen apart, becoming nothing more than a blubbering mess of heartbreak, terror, and sheer disbelief. I had cycled through the stages of grief quickly, though, thanks to Mikey. He had been a steady presence, and the only reason I was a remotely functioning human being at all these days.

‘You okay?’ he asked, his quiet, timid voice soothing the jagged edges of my frayed nerves with ease.

I sent him a small smile I hoped would bolster my lie. ‘Yeah, I’m okay, Mikey.’