Lacey sprang off the seat with a startled squeak and then was all thumbs as she struggled to open the door.
He rushed forward.
Her hands flew up in a warding off gesture.
Ignoring her, he seized the handle and pulled, leaping outside as the door slid open.
Her feet hit the gravel parking lot a moment after his.
Zane climbed back inside and slammed the door, sliding into the driver’s seat as she ran around the front of the van. Looking into the rearview mirror, he stuck out his tongue. No damage, but it still hurt like fucking hell.
He bared his teeth at Lacey’s back as she struggled to upright her scooter. “Tease,” he snarled, seizing both the steering wheel and the gear shift. Jerking it into reverse, he stomped on the gas.
Lacey began searching the ground as Zane whipped the van around in a half-circle, almost taking out one of the wooden beams holding up the roof of the store’s porch. She found what she was looking for as he shifted into drive, and was jumping on to her scooter as he sped out of the parking lot.
When Zane glanced into the rearview mirror a couple of seconds later, Lacey was a red, baseball-sized dot going in the opposite direction.
He stomped on the brake with both feet. Closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to recall both the sensation of her soft, warm body pressed against his and detect her delicate scent.
Both eluded him.
What felt like the flaming steel blade of a machete slicing through his internal organs reminded Zane of where he had been going when he had driven by and seen Lacey walking into the store: to pick up his and his siblings’ dinner.
Zane’s eyes, narrowed and darkened by agonizing thirst, returned to the rearview mirror. His world, which had always revolved around his family, was now gravitating toward the one person capable of making him feel both pleasure and pain, and who quite possibly could harm him in some as yet unknown way. He knew he should leave town as Blodbad had ordered before the unseen force pulling him toward the girl became too powerful to resist...
If only he still wanted to fight it.
Chapter 34
The scooter zigzagged as she drove past the shadowy trees and down the slick road, but it wasn’t the chilled, drenched clothing clinging to her that was making her body quake.
As they poured from her eyes, hot tears of rage mixed with the cold rain streaming down Lacey’s cheeks. Blinking rapidly, she managed to clear her vision for only a moment before it blurred again.
She had learned long ago to go with her gut feeling, because it was seldom wrong. What had happened with Zane had been a much needed refresher course in that valuable lesson, which she’d always had trouble following.
Not anymore.
Because she’d been right about him the entire time.
Lacey whipped the scooter into the driveway, killed the engine. She swiped her hands over her eyes as she stormed across the front yard, up the porch and into the dark, damp, musty house. Her soaked clothes hit the floor with a squishy plop as she quickly undressed in the foyer and then raced upstairs to the bathroom, grabbing the towel hanging on the back of the door before charging to her room. She attacked her wet hair with such ferocity that by the time she was finished her scalp felt like it had sustained friction burns.
After yanking on her flannel pajamas Lacey snatched the silk shirt off her bed, taking it downstairs with her. She tossed her soaked jeans, underwear and socks into the washer and then threw her sweater, bra and Zane’s shirt in the trash can beside the back porch. She slammed the door behind her, fresh tears clouding her vision as she retreated to the living room.
Nothing could be worse than staying in Hermit.
Nothing.
Lacey didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in her father’s recliner, only that by the time his car pulled into the driveway her ass was numb. When Clint stepped into the foyer she turned on the small lamp next to her and said, “We need to talk.”
Whether it was her tone, the look in her eyes or both that made him pause before closing the door and say in a timid voice, “Okay”, Lacey didn’t know and didn’t care. She had his attention, which was the only thing that mattered.
Lacey waited until he stepped into the living room before standing up. “I don’t want to wait until February to move again,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Clint stood still for the longest time just gaping at her before he finally replied, “If that’s what you want, kiddo.”
Lacey rolled her eyes. Don’t pretend that’s not what you want, too, she thought but didn’t say, needing to stay on track and not get derailed by another pointless argument.
“I want to be in a new town by the first of the month.”
Clint slowly shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible, kiddo.”
Lacey’s heart jackknifed. “And why the hell not?”
“I have only one hundred bucks leftover from—”
“Don’t you get paid tomorrow?”
“Yeah, but—”
“How much will that be?”
“After gas and the cost of fliers, two hundred.”
“If I give you the money I have left and you put back the same amount out of the next two checks...” She chewed on her thumbnail as she did a quick mental calculation. “Then we’ll have seven hundred and thirty dollars by the end of the month.”
“Which won’t be enough to cover electric hook-up and first month’s rent plus deposit anywhere, kiddo.”
“You don’t know that,” she snapped, one hand flying to her hip while the other waved about frantically. “You found this dump, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but—”
“How far south has your search for Mommie Dearest taken you?”
“Harrisonburg, but I haven’t finished—”
“Then we can move there. I’ll start researching it at the library tomorrow,” Lacey said as she began pacing back and forth. “I’m sure I’ll be able to find something we can afford.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Stop saying that word!” Lacey barked, coming to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I don’t want to hear any buts!”
“Kiddo, just calm down and listen to me for a moment,” Clint said, gently touching her arm.
Lacey slapped his hand away, his meant-to-be-soothing voice only fueling her panic-filled rage. “I’ll calm down when I’m at least twenty miles away from this fucked up town and you’re going to listen to me for a damn change!”
Clint’s mouth opened but the only thing that came out of it was the same sound that ghost woman made in the movie “The Grudge.” His eyebrows squished together as his hand flew up to rub the back of his neck.
Lacey snapped her fingers in front of his face when his unblinking gaze darted from her to the window and then to the floor. “I am going,” she said when he looked at her, “with or without you.”
Panic filled Clint’s bloodshot eyes a moment before they filled with tears. “Y-You can’t leave m-me,” he stuttered, something she’d only ever heard him do when upset and talking about Amelia. “You’re a-all I have l-left.”
Lacey didn’t think he could have shocked her more...
She was proven wrong when he fell to his knees.
“P-please, don’t abandon me, t-too,” he cried, gripping the hem of her pajama top with shaking hands. “I l-love you so much!”
Lacey’s bottom lip trembled and her eyes moistened, despite her efforts to keep the former still and the latter dry. She’d waited so long to hear those words come out of his mouth...
But when it came right down to it, that’s all they were—words. Without the actions to back them up, they were just random letters of the alphabet thrown together.
They meant nothing.
Lacey shook her head as she cleared her throat, which felt so tight she didn’t think she’d be able to swallow a string of thread. “I don’t believe you.”
Clint sprang up, grabbed La
cey by her upper arms and gave her a firm shake. “T-Tell me what I have to do to c-convince you,” he croaked, “and I’ll d-do it.”
“I shouldn’t have to,” Lacey murmured, shaking her head.
Cupping her face with his hands, Clint whispered, “No m-more traveling, no more f-fliers, no more—”
“Amelia?” Lacey interrupted, his words like helium inflating the balloon of hope inside her chest.
“No m-more Amelia,” he said, and then smiled as he shook his head. “Ever, kiddo. I s-swear to G-God.”
A forceful sob burst out of Lacey as she flung herself at Clint, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Oh, k-kiddo.” He gave her a squeeze and then reared back just enough so that he could look her into the eyes. In his sparkling, cognac-colored gaze she saw what he was feeling before he verbalized it. “I’m s-sorry...for everything.”
“Doesn’t matter now.” Lacey planted a kiss on his stubbled cheek and then ruffled his in-serious-need-of a-trim curly hair. “So forget it.”
“I can’t...I’ve been horrible. I know this...I’ve always known this. But...”
He closed his eyes, fresh tears trickling down his cheeks. “I loved her. I still love her. I don’t know why. And because of it, I couldn’t just give up on her, even though she gave up on me. I knew that, too, I guess...that she left me...but I just couldn’t believe she’d do such an awful, awful thing and so...”
He shook his head. “You’re right—it doesn’t matter. Things will be different now, kiddo...I promise.”
Lacey nodded. “I know,” she said, and she did—because her gut told her so.
“Except for gas to get me back and forth to work and food, I’ll save every penny I earn from now on. By the end of the month I’ll have around a grand, which should be enough to find a place in—” Clint’s brows furrowed. “Where are we moving?”
Lacey shrugged. “Don’t care, as long as it’s somewhere in town.”
Resting her cheek against her father’s warm chest, she closed her eyes and instantly regretted doing so when Zane’s snarling face popped into her mind.
“I hate the country,” she murmured. “There are all sorts of wild animals running around here…really dangerous ones.”
Clint chuckled as he nuzzled the top of Lacey’s head. Her scalp prickled and a shiver rippled through her body. The warmth of her father’s breath was the cause, she told herself, not the memory of Zane’s soft yet firm lips upon hers. Not his wet, probing tongue inside her mouth. Not the scraping of his nails over her sensitive flesh as his strong fingers seized her bra.
“Hold on just a little longer, kiddo,” her father said, “we’ll be out of here soon.”
“Not soon enough,” Lacey whispered, hugging him even tighter.
About The Author
In her early teens, Sharon Davis started putting her day-to-day thoughts in a journal and expressing herself through poetry. Although she was an avid reader even then, she never considered creating her own fictional worlds until she picked up her first Stephen King novel. From that point on, instead of merely reading books for pleasure she began studying them. She took writing courses, made use of the endless supply of information available via the internet on the art of storytelling, and listened to the advice given by experienced, successful authors. Searching for that perfect “fit”, she wrote short stories, novels and screenplays while she continued learning the craft. After devoting many years to each form, she realized her love for the type of storytelling that can only be accomplished through novels was the strongest. She makes her publishing debut with “Let Him In”, the first novel in the Let Him Trilogy. The second, “Let Him Go”, is scheduled for release in 2014.
Sharon was born, raised and has resided in Virginia all her life. Most of her free time and energy is devoted to writing, however when she does takes a break from her imaginary worlds and characters she enjoys reading and playing with her Blue Russian, Pickles. Her idea of Heaven is a day spent in front her computer with a never-ending supply of iced coffee.
Visit her on Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/sharondavisauthor
Let Him In (Let Him Trilogy) Page 25
