Page 10

Lucy

“ D o y’all stay open twenty-four hours for the likes of us?” I ask the owner as I settle onto a bar stool.

The bar is a dive, but as worn as everything is, it’s cozy.

“Pretty much. Lucy, How’s it been?”

The lights are bright behind the bar, showcasing the different bottles of alcohol.

“Same shit, different day,” I say, cheeks heating. Why can’t I ever remember his name? “Got any coffee brewing?”

I should go home to sleep, but the weight of Miles’s recent activities stalls me from stepping foot in my house. I’ve been hyper-aware of minor inconsistencies—my notebooks out of place, drawers not closed all the way, a general unease.

“Sure do. Give me a minute.” He brings a cup of coffee to the guy sitting at the end of the bar.

A few old men hunker down at a table, but other than them, it’s only this guy at the bar.

When he returns, he doesn’t make small talk. Sliding the mug of coffee to me, he smiles before walking toward the back.

Buddy keeps a clean bar, which I’m thankful for. Nothing like the trailer growing up, broken beer bottles on the floor and a mixture of old liquor and body odour.

My focus slips from the mug to the television playing the news of the last week. Two girls have gone missing, and I wonder if the Keepsake Killer has struck again.

“Haven’t seen you here before. Name’s Ken.”

I turn my head to the cliché talker. Curly dark blond hair covers his forehead and blue eyes stare back at me.

“Lucy. Do you work around here?” I bring the cup to my lips, blowing on the coffee lightly before I take a sip. I think he has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“I do. Fireman.” His broad shoulders turn toward me, his large fingers tapping the bar.

“Are you on call?”

“Just got off. It’s been a hell of a week. Thought about going to the gym, but I’m kinda antsy. Figured I’d sit here and see if anyone interesting came in.”

After taking another sip of my coffee, I put it down. “Honestly, that sounds creepy as hell. ”

His deep laugh makes me smile. As Ken swipes his hair out of his eyes, he touches my arm with his. “Don’t you ever look for interesting people?”

“No. Don’t you know there’s a serial killer at large? That’s about the last bit of exciting I’d like to find.” Shaking my head, I lift my cup and finish the coffee in it.

“Fair. I promise that I’m not into skinning people, though. I have no game, is all. Want a refill?”

“Want to come hang out at my house? I think I have stuff to make breakfast,” I tell him.

He bites his lip before grinning and pulling out his wallet. Ken throws down a twenty, which is more than enough for two coffees, and grabs his coat as he stands beside my bar stool. He’s easily over six feet tall. He will not be my forever, but he’s exactly what I need right now.

“Let’s go,” he whispers.

We walk out of the bar together, and when I approach my car, I look over my shoulder. “Follow me?”

With a quick nod, he makes his way toward his massive black truck.

When I reach my driveway, I squint ahead to the buildings but don’t see Billy’s Chevy Cruze, though the way the paths intertwine back there means he might have driven up to the barn .

He’s been M.I.A. while I’ve been working, although he fixed the porch swing and installed a beautiful green plush cushion.

“Quite the fixer-upper you have here,” Ken states as I get out of my car.

“Yeah, I thought it had a lot of character. Still does, even if it is a giant cash pit, but once I’m done, it’ll be worth it.”

I grab my bag and stride up to the front door, with him following behind.

“Some things need time to show their beauty. Others are naturally beautiful.”

I flip my head over my shoulder and give him the cheesiest smile I can muster. “That deserves some wine,” I joke.

“Fair. You live here alone?” We walk into the kitchen, where I drop off my bag and coat on the counter.

“Yeah, moved here recently. Being rural is nice after working all day or night in the city.” I grasp his hand and lead him upstairs.

Halfway up, he seems to clue in and loosens from my grip. Ken’s hands are around my waist and when we enter my bedroom, he works swiftly to strip me of my clothes.

I reach out to pull his shirt over his head, but he backs up and does it himself. His hungry gaze roams over my body, and I duck my head as I draw back the comforter on the bed.

Ken steps forward, his touch tender as he presses against my shoulder and turns me to face him. He cups my chin as he pushes his lips to mine.

His strong hands part my thighs, and he kneels on the ground, exploring me with his tongue. He licks between my folds and lazily sweeps over my clit. Heat spreads through my body, but I need more.

As my nails dig into his shoulders, he doesn’t go any harder. His mouth works gradually until he reaches my clit and sucks lightly.

I moan, and he pulls away. Ken undoes the buttons on his jeans and takes out a condom from his pocket before shucking off both pants and boxers. He slides it on and strokes his shaft several times.

“Make room for me, beautiful.”

I move over, and he sidles up behind me. Instead of the quick fuck I was looking for, it’s becoming a lovemaking session.

His strong grip arches my leg as he enters my wet pussy. Gentle caresses follow, his other hand curling around my neck, holding my chin.

“So fucking great,” he whispers, thrusting into me harder. I play with myself as he slides into me.

It’s nice, but it’s not earth-shattering. My muscles tighten, and I continue to rub my clit as his thrusts become erratic. Heat courses through my body.

I think of Billy and his rough voice and tattooed hands, and my orgasm takes hold, making me clench around Ken’s dick .

Just as he fills the condom, I catch my breath and relax in his arms.

“That was amazing. Do you think I can grab your number?” he whispers in my ear.

I don’t want a repeat, but he could come in handy in a clutch. “Sure.”

We untangle from each other. I snatch a large shirt to cover my body as he gets dressed. I put my number in his phone, and he leans down to kiss my lips delicately.

“I’ll be in touch.”

I smile and walk down the stairs with him.

Once he leaves, I lock the door and head upstairs. I pull the shirt off and head to the bathroom for a hot shower.

It wasn’t quite the performance I had hoped to put on for Miles, but it should be enough to show him I’m not fucking around.

When I get back to my bedroom, I pull down the heavy curtain. Darkness surrounds me and I close my door before getting into bed. Exhaustion sweeps through me, and I melt against my pillows.

“This is the place I was telling you about. Everything comes from the farmer’s market, or is locally sourced,” JoJo says as we enter the restaurant.

“How do you know so much about the market?” I run my hand over my arm, a random chill running through me.

“My grandparents loved them, and since I spent a great deal of time with them, it became our thing. Now that they’re long past, I want to keep it going. I love supporting locals,” she tells me.

A blonde woman in jeans guides us to our seats. The polished wood tables have apple placemats on them. The cushion is comfy as I settle into the chair.

“Today’s specials are on the front of the menu. I’ll be around in a minute with water,” the waitress says, then disappears. She comes back shortly after, a pitcher in hand.

JoJo pours each of us a glass as I look over the specials. There is a soup and sandwich combo that looks good.

“Do you know what you’re going to get?” I ask her.

“I usually get the sandwich and salad. You?” Her long brown hair is braided into a bun on the top of her head. The overalls she wears are possibly the most adorable thing I’ve seen lately.

“Same, except soup. ”

The server returns and we place our orders. After she leaves, I glance at JoJo, then look down at my water.

“What’s going on in your head, Lucy?”

“Everything. I think Miles has been stalking me, but it seems too advanced for him. In other news, do you think you’d be able to help Billy get into the farmer’s market?” I stir the paper straw in the glass. Useless fucking things.

“Hold up. First, what’s going on with Miles?”

“I got a letter that said he wouldn’t share me with a toy or something.”

That’s not what the note stated. I have the actual words imprinted in my mind.

“He’s a loser. If it continues, we’ll go straight to the police, okay?”

I nod, and the server comes back with our meals.

“As for the market, what does he sell again?”

I blow on my soup and dip the corner of my crust in it. “Organic soap, leather products, and I think he’s going to expand. He picks up roadkill and repurposes it. I helped him last week understand online selling and build a storefront, but I think he would love the market.” I take a bite of my sandwich and chew.

“I’ll ask around. That’s definitely unique, and I bet there’s a customer base for that sort of thing.”

I nod and continue eating. When I’m done with my soup, I look down at the other half of my sandwich.

“Did you hear about the two women missing?” JoJo asks.

I stare at her as she continues.

“Gabby and Faith. They were part of a group I’m in for DIYers. It’s gotta be that twisted serial killer. I wanted to believe that they left town for vacation or something, but their families are upset.”

“I’m sorry,” I say quietly.

“It’s alright. We have to keep safe. I’ve picked up some things, and I want you to carry them.” Her voice is hushed, and soon the server returns.

“Can I get you any dessert?”

“No, thanks. Is it possible to get a to-go bag?” I point at my sandwich and she grins before taking off.

“We can’t carry anything here. It’s illegal in Canada to protect yourself.”

I focus back on JoJo, who only rolls her eyes, but before she can speak again, the server returns with a paper bag and two bills.

“Here. In case you run into any wild dogs, and this keychain is for your love of cats,” she says before leaving to pay.

I slip the items into my purse. Wild dog spray, which hurts like a bitch—I’ve seen it used in the field—and the keychain is of a kitten, but hard metal with very pointy ears.

“We have to be safe. I can’t lose my best friend over some bag of shit,” she says as she returns. JoJo looks around the restaurant. I tuck my sandwich and items into my purse and stand to leave with her.

“Thank you for dinner. I was going to treat us, but I’ll catch the next one,” I tell her as we push through the glass front door.

Walking to our cars, I embrace her in a bear hug. “I love you. Be careful out there.”

“I’ll look into the market for Billy. I love you.”

Once I get home, I head up the steps. There is a black box adorned with a vibrant red bow resting on the cushion of the swing. Picking it up, I unlock the door and head inside.

After I put away the sandwich, I turn to the box and loosen the ribbon.

With trembling hands, I lift the lid, my stomach twisting in knots. On the tissue paper are two distinct eyeballs I’d know anywhere.

Miles isn’t behind this. One of his eyeballs lies in the box, soaking through the paper. I swallow the lump in my throat. He’s been dead awhile, his orb having been pumped with saline.

One thing I’ve learned during our wellness checks in the field is that eyeballs don’t last long, they deteriorate pretty fast unless kept. The thought of it makes my blood run cold, and as I look through the window, I wonder who the fuck is behind all this.

The other eye is Ken’s from this morning, the bluest I’d ever seen.

A note is glued to the lid of the box. I turn it to read.

Lucy,

This will be the last time you’ll ever look into the eyes of anyone ELSE .

Xo

I close the lid, as if on autopilot, and walk out to the back side of the house. Using one of the old rusty shovels, I dig a hole in the soft ground.

Calling the cops would only have more questions directed at me.

I place the box inside, covering and patting the dirt. After leaning the shovel against the house, I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my arm and head inside.

After I wash my hands, I flick the light on in my office. A vase of delicate white flowers sits on my desk, their petals shimmering in the light.

Billy must have come by today, but my mind is too foggy to focus on writing. I glance at the note he left next to them.

Lou, I believe in you .

I’m going to have to tell him about this other shit, because he is the only one who can keep me safe.

I head to my bed and curl up under my covers.