Page 6 of 2204 Hunter Lane
Hunter.
“She should’ve dressed for the weather, then.” Hunter’s voice was raspy and low, much like Dex’s. I could sense a hint of amusement in his response, though he didn’t smile. He didn’t move.
Good God, I’m dead.
Gentle fingers wrapped around my wrist as Payton led me towards the porch steps of the farmhouse. We passed a white sign with black lettering stuck in the ground before the stairs:2204.
“Come on deary, let’s get you warmed up inside.”
Is this a red flag? Am I walking into my death? I don’t feel particularly threatened? Then again, I’m clearly not good at assessing situations. If I was, I would’ve figured out months ago that Todd was cheating on me. I wouldn’t have left my job in New York. I would still have a family to turn to, friends I didn’t abandon all for my stupid relationship. I’d still be me. Now… who the hell am I? And what the hell am I doing on these people’s property?
“Payton.” A sharp tone sounded behind me. Dex’s voice.
But Payton just kept walking until she opened the screen door of the farmhouse and nudged me inside. Warmth immediately engulfed me, pressing through my pores and making me feel human. Heat fought against my growing hypothermia as Payton guided me into the kitchen before I could even have a look around the walkway.
The scent of cinnamon filled my nostrils as I scanned the dozens of cheesy quote frames hung all over the exposed brick walls. Their kitchen looked like something out of a hallmark movie, where the main character decided she wanted to reinvent her posh lifestyle and move into a cottage-core themed home… and I wasn’t mad at it.
I wouldn’t call myself a material girl by any means. Of course I love my possessions, but I never overindulged in things I didn’t need. Besides books,that was the exception.
A dark wooden table sat in the corner of the kitchen with two small benches on either side of it. All of the cooking utensils were exposed, hanging on a rack to the side of the oven while a series of bulbs strung from the top of the ceiling. It was cute. It was very cute.
“Sit, please. Can I make ya a coffee?” Payton offered, rummaging through cabinets.
“It’s okay, really –”
“Silly me not thinkin’. It’s late an’ I’m offerin’ you a coffee.” She shook her head, flashing me a sweet smile before she opened another cabinet and pulled out a white jar. “I’ll make a tea.”
I smiled and nodded in appreciation as she placed a kettle over the stove, patting down her apron before sitting across from me on the bench.
“You cold?” She asked, reaching underneath the table to a basket of blankets. “Here,” she stood up again and draped a scratchy, wool cloth around my shoulders. “That should do ya.”
Once again, I smiled in thanks. “I’m sorry for the trouble, um…”
“Payton,” she sat down and folded her hands over the placemat. “Just call me Payton, deary.”
It was now, in the clear light that I could truly see the sweetness of this woman. Mind you I still remained careful, I mean, Ted Bundy was charismatic and charming yet killed over thirty women so.
But there was no…edgeto this woman whatsoever. She was a bit taller than me, though many people were at my whopping 5’3 height and the evident stains on her apron indicated that she loved to cook. Judging from the cinnamon scent in the air I could tell she had baked something today, maybe even a few hours ago.Do serial killers like to bake? I wouldn’t rule it out but I wouldn’t peg it as their primary hobby.
“Want to tell me how ya ended up in our field at –” Payton glanced at the oven clock, “one-thirteen in the mornin’, little lady?”
Nope. But I had to. Question is, how much was acceptable to say?
“I…”How do I even start this?“My name is Marley, by the way. Just to, you know, get names out there and stuff.”
“Nice name, kid. Now answer the question.” Dex said walking into the kitchen with heavy breaths, the blonde guy,Hunter, following suit.
Dex took his spot next to Payton on the bench, tossing his shotgun on the table while Hunter stood back, leaning against the kitchen wall with arms crossed.
I swallowed hard, glancing back and forth between the two intimidating men and the literal shot gun inches away from my fingers.
“Um…”Shit I’m turning red. Oh my God.
“Did you forget how to speak, or?” Hunter chided, eyeing me like a hawk.
“Hunter, please.” Payton scolded, returning her attention back to me.
He rolled his eyes but followed his mom’s orders. Well, I mean, I assumed that Payton was his mom. They had the same blue eyes and blonde hair, though there were still some obvious differences.
