Page 53 of Remorseless Sinner

“I love you, Saul,” Gracie said as we arrived and for the first time, she put her hand in mine. All on her own. Without asking.

“Come here,” I said. “Let me have a taste of that delicious milk. I’m going to get you pregnant again. And again and again. . . I love you, baby. . .”

Epilogue (Gracie)

“It’s a beautiful morning in Honeywood,” Mr. Martinez caroled to me as he swept the front porch of the café. “Want your usual cinnamon dolce latte?”

“Yes, please,” I said. “After all, you can’t beat the Honeywood coffee.”

“Best little town in all the land,” Sheriff McGinty added, tipping his hat to me, as my family and I walked back to the Jeep.

“That’s right,” I said cheerfully, setting my daughter Lottie down carefully on her energetic 2-year-old legs so she could walk the last few steps herself.

After all, Saul employs a lot of people here, and I don’t want anyone to lose their jobs. Honeywood survived.

Except for William. He was let go and Saul promised not to kill him.

Life is good in Honeywood, and we got in the car to drive down to the next town over for a little hike and a picnic.

It’s a perfect spring day. Sunny but not too warm, and my husband put our toddler on his shoulders as he walked down the forest path.

The forest is not scary, light dappling down over the close-knit trees, and it’s easy to lose myself in the feeling of peaceand safety from following his massive shoulders, the muscles rippling in his forearms as he keeps a tight grip on Lottie.

I waddled along behind him, 8 months along now, but it’s good to stretch my legs and I’m feeling a third trimester boost of energy.

After all, my husband takes very good care of me.

Once we’re there, Saul stopped, and I saw the rubble in the distance, the mass of tangled metal and shattered glass that used to be the Church of the Eye of Nimhe.

Wildflowers grow between the broken wood and granite, and in time the forest I so feared will cover the building entirely.

Saul carefully lifted Lottie off his shoulders and handed her to me, then scanned the area until he guided us to a wide open space a safe distance from the ravine and mountain stream.

“Here,” he said decisively, pulling out the picnic blanket and spreading it on the soft grass. “This is a good place. I’m going to go pick a few of those mountain berries you love right over here, and I’ll be back in a minute.”

“OK,” I said as he helped me sit without rolling over on my back like a turtle, then kissed my head, putting a hand affectionately on the back of my throat and squeezing.

I watched him go for a moment, the way that goddamn muscly ass looked in those jeans, then I brushed my braid back and tugged the blanket to a new location.

Just a little closer to the ruins, under this overhang where wildflowers grew.

Then I started setting out the plates and cups, reaching into the picnic basket for the strawberries, pulling out the container and sitting cross-legged on the ground as I fed Lottie the juicy red fruit.

I should’ve noticed the sudden, deathly quiet that settled over the forest around me, but I was too busy enjoying the warmsun on my head, the way lunch smelled, and the feel of Lottie’s chubby little hand in mine.

Suddenly, with a dry rustle, an enormous snake dropped from one of the overhanging branches I thought was so pretty and landed right on the picnic basket in front of us.

Oh shit

It was a raspy, dull brown with vivid yellow patches, instantly recognizable as poisonous, its eyes zeroed in on Lottie, and for a moment I froze, hoping it would go away, that it wasn’t hunting us.

But I gasped as its deadly fangs extended, dripping poison down sharp glistening teeth.

I pivoted then, hoping desperately to crawl away, but at 35 weeks my pregnant belly was too big, I moved too awkwardly, and as the snake darted its head forward, deadly malice shining from its eyes, all I could do was turn and cradle Lottie in my arms, holding out my arm to make sure the snake struck me first and my first prayer wasn’t to Nimhe, but to my husband, even though my throat was too choked with fearoh god Saul help please. . .

I wanted to close my eyes but I couldn’t, they were glued to the snake, to each drop of venom, to the way those evil eyes focused on me and it was like a nightmare, how I couldn’t escape, couldn’t move, tangled in my skirts, heavy with Saul’s baby, and then as the poisonous creature coiled to make the leap, a big tanned hand came out and caught the snake midair, slamming its jaws shut and sending all the venom down the creature’s own throat, as the animal wriggled helplessly in my husband’s iron grip.

His powerful fingers crushed down and with a sudden motion he flung the snake’s wriggling body far away, over the hills and down into the ravine.

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