Page 79 of Say You'll Stay

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“This feels questionable at best.” Olivia frowns, helping him wrap the wire from one porch support to another, stringing it across the front door in three loops. “What if they’re smart enough to duck? We didn’t think they’d be fast until they were.”

“Then we use the bullets. We’re getting in there either way.” He gives the wire a testing pull. “It’s tight. You ready?”

“Ready.”

“If any of them break through the glass back there, then come back right away, okay? We’ll figure something else out.”

She nods. “You remembernot to get too close. Three shots back. Don’t forget, there has to be enough space between you and them to eject the shell in between.”

It wasn’t long ago that he taught her that. She’s serious and worried, with a deep and a slight pout on her lips that makes his cock twitch.

As she catches his proud smile, a blush flushes her cheeks, and she playfully rolls her eyes, ducking her head. “I’m just saying don’t take chances.”

“I won’t. Now go on before I’m forced to kiss you on this porch.” He tilts his head toward the rotters, growling behind the door. “They didn’t pay for a show.”

He hears her laughter as she rounds the corner and heads to the backdoor. There’s no time for amusement after that, and he focuses on the task at hand, reviewing the plan in his mind as he gets into position with his hand on the doorknob. She’ll get their attention in the back, giving him time to open the front door and get on the other side of the barbed wire. Then he’ll call for them and wait until they run into the trap.

It sounds easy enough, and at first, it goes off without a hitch. The first rotter is the perfect height to slam neck first into the sharp metal and she decapitates herself in a clean wipe. The second, slow one, only sways into the wire while it digs into his chest, leaving an opening for the third to run underneath.

There’s a shotgun at his side, but Cole opts for his knife, quickly stabbing it through a soft eyeball and into the brainof the third rotter. The big one is a challenge. The knife blade gets stuck and the weight of the man breaks the wire and then Cole’s got no choice but to wedge the shotgun between them right before he’s flattened like a pancake in the dirt, expelling a round into a decaying forehead.

It lands on him in a gross heap as Olivia appears around the corner, rushing toward him as if he’d been bit.

“I’m good! I’m fine!” he yells out. “Help me roll him off.”

It takes two of them to drag the man away, allowing Cole to sit up, wiping brain matter off his face with a scowl. “Well, it sorta worked.”

“I’d hug you but…”

“Come here.” He reaches out with a teasing grin as if to wipe the blood on her. It’s grim to joke about such a terrible situation, but finding humor in the devastation is better than crying.

Olivia steps back with a huff, and he gets to his feet, taking off his shirt to wipe at least fifty percent of the gore off himself. He then puts his jacket back on to block the winter chill. His next words are serious as he reflects on the family that left a lasting impression on his childhood. “We’ll bury the bodies tomorrow out back by the apple trees. They were good people. It’s the least I can do for them now.”

Running a hand down his arm, she gives it a squeeze. “May have the grand tour?”

He can’t wait to show her the place that he’s spent so many years wishing was his and they collect Lucy and Flower from the shed before making their way inside.

It’s still early in the evening when they cross the threshold of their new home. He hadn’t come inside the house as a boy, but he imagined what it might look like in his daydreams. It issurreal to be here now and compare his imagination to reality. Towering wooden beams hold up the second floor like trees brought in from the outside, unstripped of their bark and allowed to remain wild. Even so, the space is smaller than he expected. The floor to ceiling windows in the living room warped his sense of size as a child, he supposes. It is plenty of space for the three of them, though, and the woodstove, circled by leftover ash, will keep them warm.

Olivia’s curiosity matches his, and he sneaks glances at her as they traverse the lower floor, gauging her reaction, too nervous to ask outright just yet.

She reaches a hand out toward a cluster of dusty picture frames on the wall, stopping short before pulling it back. An old man who looks like Santa Claus smiles with his wife on his arm, precocious children make faces at the camera, and those same kids as grown adults further down the line of photos all stare back at them. Cole used to imagine they were his family, back when he had no one and nothing and all he could do was pretend or risk being crushed by abandonment.

He will make his own family here now. He rubs a soft hand down Olivia’s back and leads her into the kitchen.

Herbs stretch across the upper cabinets, hanging dried like a frame above an oversized sink. The setting sun begins to sparkle between the leaves, casting ragged shadows on the floor and leading their attention to an open pantry stocked with enough canned vegetables and fruits to last them a few weeks.

Olivia opens the backpack and lets the cat roam freely before joining him at the pantry shelves with Lucy asleep over her shoulder. Her eyes shine and her palm finds the middle of his chest, resting over the excited cadence of his heart. “It’severything you said it would be and more. It’s perfect.”

The relief at knowing she approves forces a hard exhale from his lungs and then they’re both grinning at each other, love-struck and grateful, standing within their winning lottery ticket.

There is running water from the well and when he flips on the tap, Lucy giggles at the sound, reaching out with eager fingers toward the faucet. Flower jumps up to bat at the stream with her paw and Olivia leans over so the baby can feel the water, too. Lucy erupts into the loudest fit of laughter he’s ever heard.

“I think she approves,” Olivia grins. “Three guesses on what I’ll be doing tonight.”

“I don’t even need one because it’s the same thing I’m doing.”

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