Page 15 of Come Back To Me
I make a high-pitched sound and his eyes lift to mine. He licks his lips, looks down at the body and then back at me, his face holding a gray hue.
I hightail it up the stairs, locking the door behind me and pressing my back to it. Chest squeezing, I try to fully process what I saw as my body slides to the floor. What did I suspect? I brought someone back who isn’t supposed to be alive. Part of me didn’t think it would work, though. I was hopeful but I’ve also never seen anything like this happen before.
Stomach in knots, I breathe in and out deeply. A chill comes over me, reminding me I’m naked. I forgot. I was too focused on the sounds I heard and figuring out where my husband was. Or the man who resembled him. If I can call whatever that was down there a man. The door rattles, knob twisting.
“Riley,” he says in a rough tone. “What are you doing? Unlock the door, baby.”
“Baby,” I say under my breath. There’s that word again.
“Please, pumpkin bear.” The rough edges round a little. “Let’s talk about this face to face.”
Not saying anything, my teeth grind together and I stare straight ahead. I did this. I unleashed something that wasn’t supposed to be here. He killed someone. I’m not sure who because I didn’t stay long enough to look at the man’s face. He barely had one. It was mauled and bloody.
“Sweetheart?” He leans his weight on the door. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“But you already have,” I say in a soft voice.
“Yes, but I think you liked that.”
My blood goes hot, my face flushing. I did, didn’t I? At first maybe not so much, but then a side of me I didn’t know about before had awoken.
“Okay, let me rephrase. I won’t hurt you enough to kill you,” he says cheekily. He’s not Gareth. He sounds like him but he’s not him. Gareth would be joking, but the ominous sound he made between each word tells me this thing, this creature isn’t him.
“I think I messed up,” I say.
“What makes you say that?”
“What you did down there . . . it’s not . . .” I scrub at my face. “It’s not normal.”
“Open the door, Riley. You’ll see you’ll feel better once you do. Once we talk.”
Heart rate skipping a beat, I get to my feet and press my hand back against the door. Cool air sticks to my skin, my bones feeling like ice that cut at my insides as I twist the lock and step out of the way. I keep my back to the door as it snicks open. Heavy footsteps approach from behind me and the door slams shut.
A hand tugs at my shoulder. “This would be a lot easier if you looked at me.”
“I can’t.” My eyes squeeze tightly together, tears welling. They spill down my cheeks and I move my feet forward again. His hand grabs for my arm this time, nails lightly scraping my skin and fingers sticky. My stomach churns. I wanted him here. I said I didn’t care how he came back. It doesn’t matter how much I remind myself of the fact, it’s still hard to turn around and face what I have in my home.
“Will it help if I wash it off?”
I nod solemnly and his hand slides away. “Very well, then. Why don’t you start on breakfast and I’ll meet you in the kitchen when I’m done.”
My mouth opens and closes, my head slowly bobbing again.
“I’ll see you in a bit, then.” He presses his wet lips to my cheek, the metallic smell lifting higher into my nose.
He will see me in a bit, and I’ll have no choice but to see him right back. I can turn away from the truth but I can’t run from it forever. My feet are heavy as I lift one in front of the other, my ears focusing on his rushed steps to the bedroom. The door doesn’t close behind him and I can hear as he rummages through the drawers. He moves like he’s familiar with where everything is.
The shower water splatters against the tub and I hear it the closer I get to the fridge. I lay everything I need out on the counter, moving on autopilot while completely numb on the inside. I’m flipping the almost fully cooked bacon when I finally hear footsteps trail from the hallway. A throat clears behind me and I keep my eyes on the sizzling pan, turning the knob until the stove is off.
“Someone smells delicious.” His stomach makes a low rumble and my back straightens, skin pricking at my neck.
“What?”
He comes closer behind me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “I said, something smells delicious. Is that bacon?”
That’s not what he said, but I don’t question it any further, swallowing hard as I plate the now overcooked meat. “Yeah. Bacon, eggs, and apple cinnamon pancakes.”
“Apple cinnamon.” He hums in approval. “My favorite.” Closing in on me, he cradles my hips with his hands, resting his chin on my shoulder. “How about you take your food and sit while I make us some coffee.”
