Page 72 of Tear Me to Pieces
It’s the middle of the day. Even if someone was watching in the woods, no way would they be?—
A woman’s scream cuts through the air and my already fast pace breaks into a run.
Because I recognize that voice. It’s the one that’s going to be singing my babies to sleep.
And I’ll gut anyone who tries to stop that from happening.
25
MYRA
“How do they look?”I lean back, trying to get a full view of the floor-to-ceiling velvet drapes Becca helped me hang and I spent a stupid amount of time steaming. “Did I get all the wrinkles out?”
Becca’s brows pinch together, expression thoughtful. “Should I have hung curtains in my house?”
I turn, a little surprised. “You have a house?” I haven’t really thought about Becca’s life outside of what’s going on with her sister, which is probably kind of stupid. Of course she has a life besides what I’m seeing now. One that’s intertwined with Felicity and Shelly’s.
At least it used to be.
“Yeah. But who knows when I’ll ever be able to go back there.” She blows out a long sigh. “It’s probably full of dead guys anyway.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out because I don’t know how to respond to that.
Becca gives me a wry little smile. “I was just kidding.” She shrugs. “They already got all the dead guys out.”
Yesterday morning before I had to suddenly leave for the hospital, Becca filled me in on a little bit of what’s really happening, but I didn’t know it included dead guys in her house. “Who pulled the dead guys out of your house?”
She rolls her eyes, lids closing. “It’s a long story and it makes my head hurt.” One hand lifts to rest against her temple. “I’m just glad Butch found somewhere we can lay low for a minute.” She opens her eyes. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”
“Of course.” I back down the stepstool I’ve been using to steam the creases from the deep green fabric, setting the handheld unit down on the top step. “You guys can stay here as long as you want.”
“I don’t want to stay here at all. I want to find my sister and go back to my life.” Becca slumps a little, looking defeated. “But I don’t think I’ll have much of a life to go back to at this point. I’m pretty sure I no longer have a job, and I don’t know how I’ll feel about sleeping in a house where I had to jump out of a window to escape being murdered.”
Holy cow. There is way more to the story than I realized. “You jumped out of the window?”
Becca snorts. “It’s actually really surprising how easy it is when you’re in danger. It’s shocking the lengths you’ll go to in order to survive.” She stands a little taller. “And how creative you can be when you don’t have any actual weapons.”
The more I learn about Becca, the more I realize she might be a girl after my own heart. “I tried to bash Butch’s head open with my nightstand drawer.”
Becca’s brows lift behind her glasses. “Impressive.” This time her smile is a little more genuine. “I attempted to take out a mercenary with an economy sized jug of laundry detergent.”
I purse my lips. “You win. I’m not sure how I would handle facing down a mercenary.”
Becca flicks her wrist, waving off my comments. “That word makes them sound way scarier than they are.” Her expression turns a little sad. “Actually, some of the guys were really nice. I hate that they ended up being —”
My doorbell rings, cutting our conversation short.
I point at her. “Put a pin in that.” I wiggle my brows. “It sounds like my new sofa is here.” I head for my front door. “Now we’ll have somewhere to sit while we talk.”
I reach the front door and pull it open, smiling out at the two men on my stoop. The bright red box truck emblazoned with the furniture store’s logo is pulled right up to the curb in front of my house. “Hey. I bet you have a couch for me.”
I’m kind of stupidly excited about this. Not just so I’ll have somewhere to sit—and a spot to snuggle with Simon—but because I think furniture will really make my house start to feel like a home.
And I want Simon to feel like he has a home to come back to.
Florida is going to be his last job as an independent contractor, but at this point we don’t know how long that job is going to take. And I’m going to do everything possible to encourage him to get through the process as quickly as he can.
One of the men lifts the clipboard in his hand, looking across the names. “Are you Myra Parks?”
