Page 60 of Locke 2

“A flood?” I asked him as he began to drive. “Hal is barely home these days. I could have just not been at home, too, Locke. Or do you like removing all options for me when it comes to work and shelter?”

“I’m not giving you a way out of my sight,” he returned.

I gaped at him. “You have a thing for making me homeless?”

“Not this time.” He looked at me quickly. “I need to know you’re safe.”

I was about to tell him I knew how to take care of myself, but I was beginning to learn to swallow down my words in the heat of the moment. Locke knew I could hold my own, but he also knew more than me about the world Lenny might be trapped in.

I thought about the picture he drew on his bedroom wall and swallowed thickly.

“Can I see Lenny’s room?” I asked. “It doesn’t have to be now. I know you like to be all spooky and do it at night, but…I’d like to see it for myself.”

“I’ve got a date with his landlord this evening.”

I raised a brow. “How did you manage that?”

It was his turn to look at me wryly. “Take a guess.”

Money.

Lots and lots of money.

“After you drop the dog and stuff off at the house, pull yourself together and we’ll head back out.”

“Pull myself together?” I repeated, questionably.

Locke was still driving, but he risked a quick glance in my direction. Solemn, he quietly said, “It will get dark, Kali. Very dark.”

I forced my body tense so that it wouldn’t tremble, but a shiver shot down my spine. He looked away, and I stroked Dahlia’s head, my eyes barely registering on the town as it blazed by.

???

The home he took me to wasn’t fancy or new, but it was big and on a bit of forest land, far enough away to drive out nosey neighbours. We were only a few minutes from the main road, but it was silent as Locke drove through a large gate and up the driveway.

He parked behind a massive white truck, its surface caked in dirt. I knew straight away it belonged to Jem. I’d been in that truck before. The conversation may have been forever ago, but I’d revisited it many times since I’d left Blackwater. The words recycled through me, though it felt entirely different now that I was sitting beside Locke.

“Let me ask you something. Do you want to be back in that apartment with him? Do you want to be subjected to more of his wild sex marathons? And when you’re not fucking him black and blue, do you want him as he is? Because I’m gonna be honest with you, sweetheart, the rumours aren’t false. In fact, they’re quite fucking tame. That man is the definition of bad, and he is not capable of love or anything long-lasting. He is destructive, and he is broken, and no fucking girl from Hawthorne with the same crybaby background is gonna be able to change that. But if that’s what you want to do—if you want to try and be that girl with the magic pussy and healing touch, I’ll turn this truck right around and take you back to him. But prepare yourself for a world you will never fucking get out of. Because once you’ve seen that side, there’s no turning back.”

I shivered. Jem had not been wrong. I had probably done what he expected of me, but it wasn’t for the reasons he thought.

By the end, I hadn’t been scared of Locke’s darkness. I still wasn’t. I was scared for another reason entirely, and it was harder to hide it now that I was sitting with this man, studying his glances, his face, his dark eyes. Every second I was around him, I was in danger of losing myself to him.

Mostly, I kept thinking that Jem had said Locke wasn’t capable of love. That was a heavy statement to make. I wanted Jem to be wrong about that, especially when I’d caught the feverishly wanting looks Locke had shot me since returning to my life, but I had to be cautious. I couldn’t afford to hope like that just because I was lonely and Locke was the only man that was capable of making me feel my damn pulse. And anyway, was I even capable of it? To open myself whole and trust another being with my heart and soul? It didn’t seem possible, especially if it was coming from a serial killer who hunted predators down for sport.

How in the blazing hell would we make it work? There would be no pretty house, white picket fence and 2.5 kids in some posh neighbourly suburb.

But I had to imagine that for a fleeting moment.

Of Locke in shorts and a polo shirt, firing up the barbecue as he chatted sports to our neighbour called Dave. I swallowed back a laugh, the thought so preposterous and wrong. I didn’t even want Locke to be like that, and I didn’t want to be some soccer mom, either. Fuck that, we were way too kinky, and why was I still imagining what life would be like with the man? He didn’t want me in that wife-like, future-mother-to-his-kids sort of way.He wanted the girl he abducted and fucked, and if I had to choose, I was pretty sure the latter was simpler and less messy.

Locke, oblivious of my disturbing thoughts, turned the car off. “I’ll take the dog, and you take the bag.”

I avoided his eyes, paranoid he might detect my thoughts. Staring intensely at Dahlia, I nodded, and he stepped out. With his back to me, I watched his every move as he came around and opened my side. He took the cage and raised it high enough to look at Dahlia. She let out an excited whine that took me by surprise. A subtle smirk played at the corners of his lips as he turned away and trudged to the house. I wondered about that look as I followed him. Just how much time had he truly spent with my dog while I was sleeping?

I glanced around the front yard. It wasn’t manicured and there were no gardens. It felt rather rough. No one would look twice at it. A perfect little hiding spot for Locke.

The aged front porch groaned under our weight as we ascended. As he unlocked the door, I glanced back. The dense trees and overcast skies cast an eerie feeling that settled into my bones. I wasn’t used to the stillness.I inched closer to Locke, knowing that he would protect me should anything happen.

---