Page 86 of Fangs
He tilted his head slightly. “Do you remember talking to me in the cave?”
“Yes?”
“Guess you probably wouldn’t remember that part, though,” he mused. “You were pretty delirious. You thought I was Trey.”
I came to an abrupt halt, all the blood rushing out of my face in horror. I thought Lee wasTrey?What the fuck had I done? What did I say?
“It’s alright. You were just very concerned for my safety.”
“What does that mean?” I demanded.
“You wanted me to hide so Wolf wouldn’t kill me, too.”
I stared at him, my mouth dry as sand. “What else did I do?”
“Nothin’ happened, Freckles.” I hated the pity on his face. “You were sad. You wanted me to hold you, so I held you.”
I swallowed hard and lurched forward again. I had no memory of that, and I hated not knowing for sure what had happened. I hated that I just had to trust him. He continued to walk beside me, but I avoided looking at him.
“Griz said he died three months ago.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I bit out.
He paused, then said, “Alright.”
“Why are you following me?”
“Wolf feels better when somebody’s with you,” he explained, and I scoffed. “Well, learnin’ more about you hasn’t exactly eased his mind. Did you really jump into a pit to fight a giant without a weapon?”
“Ihada weapon.”
“A tiny knife?”
I glared at him and found him grinning, eyes crinkled. “I killed Madame with that knife,” I shot back.
His eyebrows raised. “Alright, I take it back.” He walked beside me for a few seconds before he spoke again. “So, who’s Zip?”
For fuck’s sake.“Who told you about Zip?” I demanded.
“Oh, Sam mentioned him in passing, and Griz just about bit his head off.”
“I’m not talking about him either,” I muttered.
“Whatwillyou talk about?”
“Is stabbing you still an option?”
He laughed out loud. He had a nice laugh, rich and warm.
“I like you,” he said, still grinning.
I glared at him out of the corner of my eye, which only seemed to amuse him further. I decided to ignore him for the rest of the walk to the clinic. He didn’t seem to mind, walking silently along beside me. As the clinic came into view, I was disappointed no one was waiting for me on the porch. I’d been hoping to have a job to jump into immediately. As I climbed up the steps, I sighed and started mentally running through what cleaning I should tackle first, but when I opened the door, I stopped so abruptly on the threshold that Lee barely managed to avoid walking into my back.
He said something, but I didn’t hear it. My eyes were locked on the wall between the wood stove and the kitchen, where the word “MURDERER” was written in giant red letters on the wooden panels. It was fresh—so fresh the red liquid was still slowly dripping down the wall. I don’t know how long I stood there frozen before Lee physically moved my body so he could get inside. He released my waist and strode past me, his eyes narrowed on the wall. I finally remembered to breathe and immediately gagged. The entire room reeked of blood and Madame’s sickly-sweet scent.
I turned on my heel and retreated outside, somehow not falling down the steps. I stopped beside the apple tree in my front yard, leaning against it with my hand clasped over my mouth as I sucked in air through my nose. Who would do this? Why did the whole clinic smell like Madame? Was that word written inblood?My mind shied away from the emotion building inside my chest, floating out of my body again.
A hand touched my shoulder, and I jumped. Lee’s mouth was moving like he was talking to me, but it took a monumental effort to force myself to tune in.
