Page 23 of Debt of My Soul

It’s the only time during the summer you can enjoy the porch without the sun baking your clothes to your body.

We move to the new porch, and contentment flutters through me as I sit in my rocking chair, gazing across the wide front yard and over at the expansive hayfields across the road.

When the mosquitoes decide to join us for dinner, I lean forward and light a few of the bug barrier candles I have scattered around. It’s the only way to avoid being covered in welts and bites the next day. One might think to screen in the porch, but there’s something about having an unhindered view of the surrounding landscape that speaks to me.

“I helped Mrs. Northgate pull her Fourth decorations down today,” I say, taking a sip of the sparkling berry spritzer. Surprisingly, it’s delicious.

“Oh, yeah. They usually have a cool display.”

I nod and swig another.

“I told my mom you’d be coming to the family barbeque.” He smiles, reaching for my hand and fumbling with my fingers. “I know how it sounds, but trust me, it’s a community event.”

I wince, hoping those thoughts weren’t plastered on my face. “I’m looking forward to it. What should I bring?”

“Anything you’d like. My parents do the catfish, pork butts, and brisket, as well as all the fixin’s. But then everyone else brings side dishes and desserts. There’s food for days.”

I ponder that, a slight pang in my chest at being far from my parents. I’ve already been saving my vacation time up for Christmas. I’m going to make sure I’m home for that.

“It sounds nice. I’m excited to come.” And I am. It will be nice to meet more people and do something more community-focused besides the constant hours at the bed-and-breakfast orworking on the house. Hopefully, in the next two weeks, I can come up with something to bring.

Lights flicker down the road. They’re obvious in the pitch black. The porch lights only illuminate the front yard and offer mediocre highlighting of the surrounding fields. But these lights are bright.

Stark white dots act as beacons in the night, and two other lights come into view behind it. They move closer while the crunch of the dirt road and the roar of motorcycles creep toward us.

Adam goes still, his face ashen as he watches the slow-moving vehicles inch down the road.

“Is it just me, or are they getting slower?” I ask. But as if in answer, the vehicles ease up in front of my driveway.

“Go in the house, Fleur.”

I stand but don’t move. This is my home, and I will not be scared off my porch by a couple of cars and motorcycles. We don’t even know who?—

“It’s them. You need to go inside.”

“Them?”

In an attempt to appease Adam, I shuffle back a few steps as the car slows in front of my long driveway. It wraps in the front like an S, but I’m able to make out a black or darker-colored car. The two motorcycles flank either side of it, and they … sit there.

Do these people have nothing better to do?

I pull my damp hair into a bun and march to the steps.

A hand circles my waist, and Adam hauls me back. “Don’t, Fleur. Let’s go inside.”

“Why? They can’t just sit there.”

“They can. Trust me.”

Trust. It’s getting hard to do that in this town. People avoid these men like the plague. Content to let Darrin create drug addicts and capitalize on their gambling addictions. River’s eyeswhen she was talking about him, them—fear splintered out, making her whole expression tight and nervous. And that was onlytalkingaboutthem.

My chest is heavy as I think about this town that seemed so appealing online, but in reality, I’m starting to think Google needs to add a disclaimer to the town map. It should read: charming, quintessential small town riddled with drugs and motorcycles.

Adam opens the door, hand placed on my lower back to push me into the house. Twisting my head, I crane to get one last look as the bikes rev and the car speeds off in a cloud of smoke. The pungent smell of rubber burning and acrid exhaust fumes catch on the breeze and slam into us.

Time on the oven continues to count down, and within the next three minutes, Adam and I are sitting quietly at the peninsula eating our undone pizza. Then he’s leaving with the promise to see me this weekend and that he looks forward to taking me to his family’s home in two weeks.

Later, after repeatedly checking the window to ensure they’re gone and triple-checking my locked door, I finally nestle into bed. Unfortunately, I can’t help but wonder ifhewas out there.

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