Page 41 of Blood & Kisses

I’m alone again in Gabe’s house and take my place on the lakeview balcony to watch the sun go down. Since this morning, I’ve been feeling glum and can’t shift this heavy black cloud plaguing me. Memories I’ve done so well to block in the past 12 months are becoming fresher and more vivid as if they only occurred yesterday.

My natural reaction is to scratch my skin until I bleed, but I don’t have the desire to hurt myself anymore. Instead, the intensity of hurting the two men left on my list grows.

Blake has set up the scene for me to knock off the Crow, but there’s a large part of me that wants to end his life while he is looking at me in the eyes. I have questions that need answers, and I wonder if I threatened to kill him, would it compel him to speak the truth?

I enter his name into Google, and the first pic is of him in his Crows uniform, with black marks under his eyes, carrying his football helmet as he walks off the field. I pretend my fingers are a gun and pretend to shoot him, leaving a feeling of dissatisfaction. He doesn’t care about us girls caught in his web of trafficking and fetishes. He views us as throwaway commodities and second-class citizens to be used and abused at his whim.

It will be my pleasure to wipe him off the face of the earth and Blackadder when I get to him unless the police get to him first because, according to Gabe, all evidence will lead to him.

Huh. Gabe. Which reminds me. The saferoom.

Since I’m here alone, I may as well snoop about the saferoom in case an ‘unfriendly’ arrives and frightens me. Stepping back inside, I let my eyes adjust to the darker atmosphere before starting my search.

The house isn’t that big, but if I were going to have a saferoom, it would be downstairs, perhaps part of a basement. Yet, the many times I walked about down here, I’ve never encountered the saferoom. The living room and kitchen don’t have an extra door, but I pause at the cupboard under the stairs and open that. I was disappointed to find that it was just a cupboard, so I shut it, then swung it open again to check the back wall.

“Found it,” I whisper, finding the moving panel and pushing it open. Behind the panel is a door with a touchpad requiring a code to be entered. I don't know the code, so I don’t bother trying. When Gabe gets home, I’ll ask him. But while the cat’s away, I might snoop in his bedroom.

Flying up the stairs, the adrenaline surged through me, being somewhere I shouldn’t be, but he didn’t seem too upset when he found me in his bed. I come to his door at the end of the hall with my heart hammering against my ribcage and turn the handle.

Damn, he’s locked it. Okay, so he wants to keep me out. Or does he not want me to see what’s in there? I didn’t check his closet thoroughly when I was here last time, so maybe something is hidden there.

Turning away from his door disappointed, my phone beeps in my hand, and I jump in fright. Blake is right. If I’m going to wield a dangerous weapon such as an AK47, then I need to keep calm and in control of my nerves.

It’s a message from Z. Shit, I’ve neglected her since moving into Gabe’s place, and let’s not forget all the man's attention I’ve been getting.

Z: Smiler’s got another mess 4 us to clean. Pick u up in 40mins. Please give me ur address. Unless u don’t want the work.

Me: Wow. It’s not sundown yet. I thought the Smiler clan preferred to work after dark.

Z: R us keen?

Me: Yes. See u soon.

I messaged Z Gabe’s address because we always go together in her van. It contains all the cleaning equipment and an extra vehicle that makes Smiler’s lackeys nervous. I return to my bedroom, strip off my shorts and T-shirt, and replace them with an old pair of sweatpants and a scruffy T-shirt I wear specifically for this job.

She’ll be here in an hour, so I head out to my car and grab the house plants I stashed on the floor in the back. A shiver travels down my spine as I bend to grab the plants like someone is watching me.

Discreetly, I peer over the roof of my silver car to see if anyone is watching me or a car parked down the road, but I can’t see anything. I face the house and notice the cameras hitched in three places along the front: by the living room window, the front door, and the garage. That’s why I feel like I’m being watched; I am but by my allies, not enemies.

I wave to the camera, knowing it’s highly unlikely that a physical person is watching me live; then, just for fun, I chuck a few twerks. Gabe will be surprised when he goes over the day’s footage.

I took four house plants from the glasshouse at uni that we propagated and placed them in the formal living room, informal living room, and dining room, which leads out onto the balcony. There are also potted miniature fruit trees in the glasshouse that need homes, so I’ll bring an orange and maybe a plum home. They would enjoy the sun and add color, life, and food.

I hope Gabe doesn’t mind that I’m tackling the interior of his house, but I’m home more than he is, so I’m making myself at home. I’ll remove them if he doesn’t want them here, but I can’t see why he’d protest.

I potter about with my herbarium, which isn’t completed yet. I still have two samples to retrieve and press; if I don’t do that soon, they won’t be adequately dried and pressed when I hand them to my botany tutor.

When I spot the old white van coming down the road, I run out to greet her. As usual, she’s got a cigarette sticking out of her mouth, a half-empty bottle of Coke on the passenger seat, and an offensive punk T-shirt.

“Been so long since I’ve seen ya?” she cries out, pointing to Gabe’s house. “Dat place is flash.”

“Yeah, I know,” I answer. “I’m rattling around alone most of the time.”

She grunts scathingly as she puts her old beast into gear, and the scent of hospital-grade cleaning products hits my senses. “I thought you moved here so they can protect you after your apartment was broken into?”

“I did,” I clam up, wondering if I should say more, and she turns to me, expecting me to expand on it. “The house has surveillance,” she says.

“Woooo, they’re watching you,” she teases. “Don’t do anything illegal then while living under the roof of a pig.”

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