Page 15 of Will Bark for Pizza
Red rolled up her deflated paddleboard andtossed it into the back of her Jeep. “It’s a celebration cookie, if you must know.”
“What are you celebrating?”
She opened the back door and Husker hopped right in. “Do you have a towel?” she asked, scanning me up and down. I’d collected my shirt and boots, but I hadn’t put them back on. They were piled on the dock, which, I realized as I started to shiver, was a dumb place for them to be.
“Yeah, I’m sure I do.” I was pretty sure I didn’t.
“You should use it,” she said, her gaze lingering on the tattoos on my bare chest. “It’s cooling off.”
“You sure you’re okay? You don’t need to get checked out by a doctor or anything?” I didn’t even know why the hell I was asking, considering it was clear she was fine and eager to be rid of me. It was only that her rounding the Jeep to her driver’s side door felt too final.
I should leave well enough alone. Let her drive away and forget all about the odd encounter. Count my blessings that I remained untangled from a redhead for once in my life.
She hopped into the driver’s seat, closing the door but leaving the window rolled down. Husker stuck his head out the partially opened window in the back, staring at me expectantly, as though I should have a treat, or at least, offer him a head scratch.
“Thanks for the assist,” she said, cranking the ignition.
“You have somewhere to stay?” The questions sounded desperate, but I couldn’t seem to stop them. When she drove away, I might never see her again. Especially if she was just passing through.
Nana would smack me upside the head for prolonging this.
“That’s another question a serial killer would ask,” she answered with a smile before she backed up and drove away.
I stood on the shore, jeans still soggy, and watched the red Jeep disappear around the wooded bend, into the dusky darkness.
“What a weird fucking night,” I mumbled, collecting my T-shirt and boots from the dock. I shot Luke a quick text to fill him in, and save him the trip. I sent one to Nana as well, but I had to reassure her I didn’t ask the redhead on a date to keep her from calling back and lecturing me.
The last light on the horizon faded into night. Dozens of stars overhead transformed into hundreds. Then thousands.
Yeah, I could call this place home.
A yawn assaulted me so strongly my eyes watered. I should go. I was exhausted down to my bones, and I had a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I looked out at the peaceful lake one last time and noticed something long and narrow wash up to the shore.
I trekked back down toward the water’s edge. Sure enough, a purple paddle that matched the pad of Red’s board had wedged itself in the rocky sand.
She and her dog might be miles down the road by now. If I left the paddle on the dock, she might come back and find it.
But because I just couldn’t seem to help myself, I carried the paddle back to my truck for safekeeping. At least, that was the lie I told myself.
SIX
KIRA
Six unblinking blackeyes stared at me from the corner of my pillow, four out of eight legs visible and twitching. The last remnants of sleep shredded from my system as I screamed, and the spider leapt away from the crazy lady—akame—who launched said pillow as far across the attic as humanly possible, while wrestling out of a sleeping bag that had seen better days.
My knee banged against the hard floor as I kicked the sleeping bag free, a string of muttered and varied fucks punctuating every panicked breath.
Husker popped to his feet, pacing around me as I frantically searched for the nearest blunt object I could find to take out the hairy-legged demon. There were stacks of boxes everywhere, but not a crowbar to be found.
Hiding out in the bookstore’s upstairs apartment for a night had been a risk, but I wasn’t ready to face anybody. Not Dad, not my grandparents, and definitely not my brothers. Though Aspen would’ve taken me in noquestions asked, I didn’t want to disturb the newlyweds with a late, unannounced visit.
I had the key to the bookstore, as did the rest of my family. It’d been on my keychain since the day Dad distributed them to each kid, shortly after Mom’s funeral. I also packed a thermal sleeping bag—perks of having military veteran brothers. One night of roughing it in the old, dusty apartment before I decided who to face first seemed doable.
I didn’t think about thefucking spidersthat would take up residence in the vacant space.
A big, hairy spider that was currently MIA.
“Where’d it go?” I whimpered, spying my flip-flops and snatching one up. I didn’t want to sacrifice my favorite pair, but desperate times and all that. Charlotte and whatever web she had going on up here definitely had to go.
