Page 96 of Savage Keepsakes

“They found Leah, or parts of her. I don’t know. They called me into work.”

His brows lower, and his eyes darken. He scrambles out of bed and trips over the sheet.

“What is it?”

“It was me, but she’s supposed to be fucking dead. I checked this morning. Fuck.”

He paces the room and I stare at him as he grips his hair.

“Billy, listen. You go clean up whatever you have in that barn. I’ll head to work and come back, okay?”

Dread grows in my stomach like a pit, and I think I’m going to be sick. “Breathe, I’ll protect you.”

He stares at me as I stand up and get dressed. “I’m supposed to defend you. Touch her and die, that kinda thing,” he whispers.

I glance over my shoulder, watching him sit on the edge of the bed in his boxers. His body is slouched and his face is buried in his hands.

“Doesn’t mean it can’t work both ways. I’ll call JoJo and see if she can explain where you were when I was at work,” I tell him.

I look into the mirror, twisting my hair into a messy bun and smoothing out my shirt.

“Lou, I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose you,” he breathes from behind me. His eyes are wild through the reflection in the glass and I swallow my despair.

“Well, we’ll never have to find out, eh?” I spin and wrap my arms around his neck, his warm body pressing against mine.

“Clean up whatever you have out there. Burn the fucking thing down, for all I care.”

“Won’t it look suspicious if your barn suddenly burns down?”

I bite my lip and stare into his brown eyes. “Maybe. Can’t you contain a fire to the rooms needed? This isn’t my area of expertise. This is all you. I got damage control.”

Billy wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me closer, as if we can become one person.

“Darlin’, I love you. I swear to god I thought she was dead. I wanted to remove everything fucking toxic from your life,” he whispers.

I kiss his lips and he withdraws to get dressed. I grab my purse and keys, the jingle of the keychain echoing through the empty hallway.

Once I’m in the car, I drive to the hospital. Music blares as my mind races until I get there.

Sitting in the parking lot, I try to figure out how to deal with all of this. Hopefully Leah is on her last leg and can’t tell the truth.

Walking up the pathway, I talk to the admin to get to the right floor and find Artie pacing the small white waiting room. The constant buzzing of machines fills the air as nurses hurriedly attend to patients.

“Artie, what’s going on?” I ask.

The air is heavy with the sickening scent of disinfectant, and the sight of the half-empty snack dispensers and the orange hard-plastic chairs make me opt to stand.

“Call this morning from a man driving down the street. I wasn’t the one to bring her in. It’s out of our jurisdiction. She’s in rough shape, Lucy. I’m not sure if she’ll make it, and if she does, it’s going to be a long road to recovery.” He stares out the window overlooking the parking lot.

“Have the detectives been in yet?” I clench my jaw and look down at the old magazines spread across the plastic table, a chill coming from the air vent above me.

“Come and gone. You know how they are.”

“What happened?” I can’t make eye-contact with him, or else I’ll lose everything. He’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a father figure, and I won’t let a mere feeling jeopardize my entire life.

“She’s cut up, pieces carved out, missing a foot and so much skin. She’s in and out of it. According to her, she was attacked and held against her will. And Lucy, I have news,” he mutters.

As he turns, his hand settling on my shoulder, my gaze fixates on the buttons embellishing his shirt.

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