Page 127 of Faded Gray Lines

“Yeah. Yeah, she did.”

* * *

When I first got out of the car, there were just a few drops. Now, the bottom dropped out of the sky, blowing sheets of rain sideways and stinging my face. I didn’t mind. The weather matched my mood—reckless and chaotic.

It was dark, and if I didn’t know these woods as well as I did, some random hiker would probably find me in a few weeks, half-eaten by wild animals. Lucky for me, I’d combed these trails so many times, I could do it blindfolded. I didn’t though.

But four years ago, she had.

It was the fifth or sixth time I’d taken her this far into the woods. She’d balked at first, but I knew she’d give in. Star never fought me for long.

“You blindfolded me before prom, now this? I’m beginning to think you have a kink, Matty.”

I groaned. “No, smartass, but every time you’ve come out here it’s been with me. I just need to know if you’re ever in trouble and you need to run, you know where you’re going.”

Cocking her chin, she dangled the blindfold from her finger. “And this?”

“So you’ll trust your gut to lead you. When you’re scared, your eyes can play tricks on you, little lamb, but this...” Pulling her against me, I placed a hand on her stomach. “...this will always show you the way.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier just to call you?”

“What if you can’t get in touch with me?” Frustrated, I cupped her cheek. “Look, if you’re ever in trouble, come here, and I’ll find you.”

Wiping my eyes with the back of my hands, I took two more turns and stopped as a hacking cough broke through the sound of pouring rain. The smell of charcoal and burned hair singed my nose, and she didn’t move as I approached. She sat huddled against a large pine tree hugging her knees to her chest, her face and clothes covered in soot and ash. Even though there wasn’t an inch of her that wasn’t drenched, she wasn’t shivering. I watched her, taken aback by her contradictory actions. It was like something in her had shut off.

“Leighton?”

Coughing again, she tilted her head back, gazing up at me through widened eyes. Part of her seemed shocked to see me while the rest of her silently asked what the hell took me so long. Again, the conflicting reactions concerned me.

Then I saw the blood.

Dropping to my knees, I held her face in my hands and inspected the dirty gash in her forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

Her wet hair stuck to her face as she pulled away. “It’s just a cut,” she wheezed. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“You’re my wife, Leighton. Don’t tell me not to worry.” The image of Brody holding her bloody necklace blazed through my mind. “Jesus, everyone thinks you’re dead.”

Something finally sparked to life in her bloodshot eyes, and the corners of her mouth turned down. “Emilio and Sarah are dead.”

“Sarah from Caliente?”

“Oh, so you didn’t know Hector sent her to steal from Emilio either? No wonder she was such a shitty bartender.” She broke into a combined fit of hacking coughs and hysterical laughter. “Although honestly, we weren’t that different,” she added, gasping for air. “I was doing the same thing she was—except the fucking Emilio part.”

I ignored that last part and gave her a knowing stare. I preferred to have this conversation somewhere dry, but fuck it.

“What about the third person?”

Shifting her eyes, she licked a raindrop off her lip. “What?”

“You talked about Emilio and Sarah, but three people were pulled out of that fire, Leighton.”

“Were there?”

“Cut the shit.” I’d had all I could handle for one day. “I saw Alex’s car a half a mile back. He wasn’t in it. What did you do?”

She drew in a noisy breath. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Leighton, look at where we are!” Climbing to my feet, I threw my arms out wide. “We’re in a forest at night in the rain. Does this seem normal to you? Does anything about what has happened today seem fucking normal to you?”