Page 67 of Pretend You Love Me

She blinks a few times. I point at her. “You stay here. I mean it, Ginger. Stay here, and I’ll go check it out.”

She blinks a few more times without responding.

“Do I need a gun?” I ask.

“Do you have a gun?”

“Of course.”

She flinches.

“It’s Alaska, of course I have a gun. There are bears and moose everywhere.”

She just blinks.

“Do I need it?”I ask again.

“Probably,” she answers, and my blood pressure rises. I go into my truck and grab it. It’s a hunting rifle. I only keep it because well, it’s Alaska. You never know when you might break down in the middle of nowhere and need to survive in the wilderness. I never thought I’d consider using it on a person. I was hoping that in the worst case scenario, I’d use it to scare off a bear. I’m pretty annoyed I’m in this situation at all, but there’s no way in hell I'm letting her go in.

I turn to her. “Stay. Here.”

She nods.

I go to the door. It’s slightly ajar. I knock and call out. No answer. I knock again, and the door opens slightly.

“Hello,” I call. “Anyone home?”

The smell coming from the house is horrifying. I move my shirt over my mouth and nose. I hope whoever lived here is long gone.

I push the door open further and step inside. I hear something behind me, and I whip around, gun drawn.

“It’s just me,” Ginger says.

I’d like to murder her right now. “What part ofstay heredidn’t you fucking understand?”

I’m about to throw her over my shoulder again, but she leans in closer to me and doesn’t answer.

“Doesn’t look like anyone is here,” she finally says.

I glare at her. “You should be at the car.”

“But I’m here now.” She’s holding her head high, avoiding eye contact with me.

She slips around me and steps into the house.

“Ginger,” I hiss. She’s across the room before I can grab her hand.

“We need to go.”

“I can’t, Kip. Just let me look around.”

“You have three minutes.” I growl. She looks relieved and nods.

I watch her scan the room. She spots a filthy doll, and she picks it up. She’s blinking back tears. She sets it down and looks at some bills on the table. She walks down the hallway, and I follow her. She peaks into each bedroom. She freezes as soon as she sees the last one. Her hand flies over her mouth.

I step around her. There’s blood splattered all over one of the walls. It looks like someone’s been shot. She’s shaking, and I pull her backwards.

“We’ve got to go.” I drag her down the hallway.