Page 83 of Like A Moth To A Flame

She paused, looking over at me to make sure I was following. I nodded.

“He was fresh out of the academy, wide-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to go. He had a bit of a hard time fittin’ in at first because some of the guys around here?” She tutted and shook her head. “They still ain’t open to mixin’ folks of different skin colors. Stupid, if you ask me.”

Leaning over, she spit onto the ground and made a noise of displeasure in her throat.

“There was a girl, a nurse, at one of the clinics around here. He got sweet on her, but people around here got to talkingas they ought not to do, and…”

She trailed off, turning to look at me.

“She says he stalked her and took advantage of her. Me? I say her daddy was a racist, and she was ashamed, so she tried to cover it up. Either way, we won’t ever know the truth.”

“Why not?” I asked, my voice a low croak in my dry throat.

“That girl left this diner in a huff one night, tellin’ anyone who would listen that he was after her. She sped out of here, and she flipped her car on that sharp turn out on Spring Creek road.” She shrugged, and there was a sadness in her eyes. “Died on impact.”

21

I’m not gonna let you down. I’m not gonna let you fade away

Moth

My ears were ringing. When I walked out of the diner, I nearly ran smack dab into Carl Lee, another one of the firefighters. His silvery blonde hair reminded me of Draco Malfoy, and his icy eyes reminded me of those husky dogs. I stumbled back, slipping on the loose pebbles and nearly falling.

“Oh! Hey, there,” he said, reaching out and grabbing my arm. His hand wrapped around my bicep, keeping me upright, and when I looked down, that’s when I realized he was wearing thick leather gloves.

Why the hell was he wearing those in the middle of late September? It was still hot in Kansas. Why was he—

“You alright?” he asked, and I blinked up at him, dazed.

“Y-yeah,” I said, flashing a quick smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You’re fine, sugar,” he said, smiling at me.

That’s when I realized how tall he was. He was taller than Sheriff Banner was. But his voice?

His voice wasn’t deep enough.

They have voice changers and stuff, Barrett’s voice reminded me from the back of my mind.

My throat went desert dry, and it took several tries for me to swallow.

It couldn’t be him. There was no way it was him. He was so nice, and—

“—hurt you.”

His words jarred me. I’d caught just the tail end of his sentence, but my brain honed in on two very familiar words.

“W-what?”

“I didn’t wanna hurt you,” he said, nodding as he passed me and moved into the diner.

My heart sped up to a dizzying speed, and I hurried to my car, my head spinning.

I was hearing things. This was stupid. I was overreacting. I was seeing shadows where there were no shadows.

Was I?

Wasn’t I?

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