Page 159 of Volik

Then… I jump.

My feet slam into the street, spidering cracks across the blacktop.

The numbers nailed to the front of the house match the numbers Nix recited.

Numbers she should not have in her brain.

Numbers she will never have to think of again.

Staring at the house, imagining the fear my mate felt here, I relive her story.

I keep my heartbeat steady.

But I relive it.

I think of every detail.

I think of Nix running out that very door, her precious blood dripping down her leg.

I think of it. And I step forward.

My footsteps are heavy.

My focus is on my heart rate. Keeping it slow.

Lights are still on in some houses, but no one is outside. And the street is dark, the closest streetlight burned out. Leaving me in the shadows. Where I blend in.

The house ahead of me is dark. But a faint glow is coming through the slits in the closed garage door.

He is in there.

Even before I step onto the driveway, I can smell him. And as I get closer, the stench grows.

The attack on Nix was years ago, but the way this place is drenched in the man’s scent tells me he has lived here for at least that long.

This is the right house.

This is the right man.

I grip the handle of the front door, ready to force it open, but it turns.

Unlocked.

I click my tongue, open the door, and duck inside.

The scent inside the house is worse, and I’m glad Nix could not smell him. Not like I can. But if she could, she would have known this man was rotten.

The house is clean. Physically. But clinging to the walls is the reek of fear.

It’s not from Nix. That happened too long ago.

Someone else was hurt here.

The walls shake with my next step.

I will not tell her. Nix would feel guilty.

And her mother was wrong; she should have supported Nix. Should have taken her to the police station. She should have done that because she is her mother. But even if Nix had gone to the police, I have been around long enough to know it would not have ended with justice. The fear staining these walls would still be here.