Page 54 of Property of Fang
Nope. I was too busy upstairs, arguing with Nibbles. A fresh wave of anxiety clutches at my chest. “I’m glad for them.” I push off the floor, swallowing my nerves, and rise to my feet. “I’mgoing to take a walk in some fresh air before it’s too cold and dark outside.” Not that anyone cares.
Kathy nods and resumes watching the flames.
I exit through to the foyer, and when I hear muted voices, promptly change direction to avoid walking past Nandi and Mila. The off-set hall leads through to the rear of the house, past the laundry room. Nobody stops me, let alone notices me, as I slip out the back door and take a full, cleansing deep breath.This is getting too messed up, too fast.I don’t owe my father anything. I could walk away, right now, and there’d be nothing he could say that would be valid enough to bring me back.
Except, I should have walked away earlier—when I had the chance. It’s too late now. Too late for me to retain my innocence. I’m no saint. And it’s that crushing guilt which turns my gut to acid as I climb the fence into the adjacent field. Who do I try to fool? I’m no hero. No protector of the innocent. No goddamn martyr.
I’m a charlatan. A killer. One moment of selfish need forever encapsulated in the metaphorical blood that stains my hands.
Shit.Everything’s too much of a mess. Too complicated. I barrel toward the imminent shutdown of the one thin thread of mental clarity that remains, my brain trying to protect itself from the impossibility of it all.
Who’ll believe me when it’s my word against a dead girl’s?
The dead grass scratches at my shins as I push my way deeper into the field, shoes sliding in the mud. A fresh flurry fell shortly after we returned, not long enough to settle, but enough to turn the dirt to mush. The vague outline of people in the distance must be the Amish still hard at work. Confident that I’m safe from curious eyes, I collapse amidst the grasses and promptly fall to one side, curling myself into a ball. Dirt be damned.
You can do hard things, Jenna.I was raised by hard things.
The day fades, small black insects crawling along the woody stalks in the twilight. Motorbikes arrive, and at least one leaves. Life goes on around me.
But I don’t want to move.
It’s safe here. Secluded. I can pretend life isn’t one giant fuck up and delay the inevitable for a while.There’s nothing wrong with that, right?Who goddamn knows? Maybe tomorrow I’ll be dead. Maybe the Kings of Anarchy will figure out who I phoned and put me in the ground, as they have every right to.
I’m a snake, lying here in this grass. A slimy, untrustworthy serpent.
A pained giggle erupts from my throat, startling me with its brash noise in the darkening night.
The grass swishes to my right. The noise grows louder.
What the hell?Boot steps. Undeniable squishy footfalls that stride my way thanks to my outburst.
“There you fucking are.” Fang crashes into view. A shadowy omen of pain and suffering looming over me in the near-dark. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”
“Nobody asked you to.” I nestle tighter into my ball of messy comfort.
He scoffs a garbled laugh and then strides into my little clearing. “Stand up.”
“No.”
“I said get your ass up.”
“And I said no.”
“You’re filthy.”
“And that’s a problem? How?”
“Jesus fuck,” he mutters under his breath. “Good to see your shitty attitude hasn’t changed. Even my daughter ain’t this stubborn.”
“She looks like you.” Why that matters right now, I don’t know. But I felt he needed to know.
“No shit.” Nibbles wraps a hand around my upper arm and gives a gentle tug. “Come on. Don’t make me force you to move.”
“I don’t want to.”
He swipes the side of his hand at my ribs, and I realize he knocked a curious bug off me. “Plan to spend the whole night out here to see how many new friends you wake up with in your ears, do you?”
Ew, the fuck no.The threat of unwanted tenants has me move. I bolt up to a seated position, rubbing at the phantom tickle in my ear canal.
