Page 65 of Rule the Night (Blackwell Butchers #1)

MAEVE

“Grocery store?”

We were walking to the Hummer, our arms loaded with bags from the farmers market, when Poe asked the question.

It was ridiculous how warm it made me feel inside, like we were regular people doing regular things, like Poe knew the routine well enough to know that we saved the grocery store for last so the freezer stuff didn’t melt while we went to the farmers market.

“Yep.”

I’d been with the Butchers for over two months, and I’d come to love my errand days with Poe.

We listened to music in the car and talked about the food I wanted to make the following week.

Sometimes he told me stories about him and Whit growing up or about his grandparents, and sometimes — okay, a lot of the time — it even felt like we were friends.

We put the bags in the backseat and headed away from Blackwell Falls toward the main road leading away from town.

The town planning board knew which side their bread was buttered on, and no one wanted to see a big grocery store in the middle of the quaint shops downtown, their green awnings matching like they were part of a storybook village instead of a real-life town where bad things happened all the time.

All of that meant the practical stuff — the grocery stores and big-box stores and chain restaurants — were on the outskirts of town where they couldn’t ruin the experience for the tourists who came to Blackwell Falls because they wanted to believe there were still storybook villages where bad things didn’t happen.

It also meant the rest of us had to drive farther to get everyday stuff, but c’est la vie, as my mom would say.

We were about a mile from the grocery store when Poe’s phone rang. He picked it up and held it to his ear.

“Everything okay?” He paused to listen, and I heard a man’s voice coming from the other end of the phone. Poe swore. “Is he okay?”

The concern in his voice got my attention, mostly because the Butchers hardly ever seemed concerned about anything.

“I’m on my way.” He disconnected the call. “Mind if I make a stop? I could take you back first but…” He trailed off, like he didn’t want to finish his sentence.

“I don’t mind.”

He hit the gas and we sped past the giant grocery store, toward the open land at the foot of the mountains.