Page 116 of Dead Love

“What do you think he’s doing?” Shea asked.

I wasn’t sure if she was talking about Andrew, Mike, or Vincent. And I guess it didn’t matter. All I knew was that I needed to find Vincent, to warn him, to make sure he was okay. But why was he doing this? What was he trying to prove by burning everything down?

Was he trying to tell me something?

My muscles quivered, my pulse speeding in my chest, heat radiating to my heart. My mother tied her fingers together. No matter how hard I stared, I couldn’t see the woman who fell asleep for months on end without eating dinner, who cried silently when I wanted to leave for college. Who held it together every last day because she knew she had to. All I saw was the woman who desperately wanted to be the wife my father wanted, who wanted me to be like her. Because that would mean I was safe.

But I could never be that woman. I wouldn’t let myself. Not for her. Not for my father. Not even for Vincent. I had to be my own person, and that meant making my own decisions. That meant deciding my futurefor me.

“Did you know?” I asked. Tears filled her eyes. “About Nyla, Mom. Did you know?”

“No,” she whispered. “No. Never.”

Relief trickled through me, but it was short-lived. I was glad she wasn’t like Andrew or Mike, but that didn’t change the fact that now we both knew the truth. Webothhad to decide what that meant to us.

But I already knew what I needed to do. I needed to find Vincent. I needed to protect him, to save him, like he had saved me.

I ran inside and grabbed the keys out of my mother’s purse. I had never driven a car before, but I crossed my fingers that I would learn easily. It would be quicker driving than running.

“Where are you going?” my mother shouted.

I opened the driver’s side door and my stomach turned. Where would I even start?

“Don’t leave me,” she screamed. “I can’t bear to lose you again.”

My body buzzed with energy, making my fingers twitch. I hated doing this to her, but I couldn’t keep catering to her anymore either. I had needs too, and I was done putting myself behind everyone else.

“What about Poppies & Wheat?” she asked. “What if he goes there next?”

I took a deep breath. I hoped not, but who could tell where he was going next?

“He won’t,” I said. “Not if I get to him first.”

She threw her hands down at her sides. “I won’t let you go, Kora,” she threatened, “not by yourself.”

“Get in the car,” I said. I couldn’t waste any more time. We had to leave now.

She scrambled to the passenger door. “Kora—”

Her phone rang. She pulled it out and the caller ID blinked on the screen:Vincent Erickson.

* * *

Vincent

A swarmof fire trucks and police cars zoomed down the highway. A hunger buzzed in my chest, my skin hot, my breathing quick. If all of them were here with the fire, including Sheriff Mike and Officer Andrew, then this would be a breeze. I could leave with Kora in my arms within the hour.

But I needed everyone to be distracted, including her mother. That was the only way I’d be able to take her now.

The streets were deserted. The townspeople had likely followed the commotion. A serenity swept over me as I parked downtown, following the street to Poppies & Wheat. A golden flower was painted on the sign that hung above the door. A bell jingled when I entered.

It was chilly inside. A young woman in an apron popped up from behind the counter.

“Hi! How can I help you?” she asked.

Pots hung from the ceiling, the vines dripping over the sides of the containers. Most of the walls had glass-door refrigerators. Bright sunflowers, white roses and lilies, and a table in the center full of vases of different shapes and sizes overflowing with rustic bouquets.

“I see you’re browsing,” the woman said. “My name is Nikki. Just holler if you need me.”