Page 79 of The Dead Don’t Scream
The farmhouse wasn’t prepared for Sloane. The maze was. Every rope, blanket, bottle of water, and medical supply had a designated place. Every scene was planned around her application. The house is different. Callum’s boots sit beside the back door. Dante abandoned a coffee mug on the stairs yesterday. My paperwork covers half the kitchen table.
This is where we live. Sloane entering it feels more intimate than watching her kneel naked in the chapel. Callum lowers her beside the kitchen island. Dante drops the overnight bag onto a chair.
“Coffee?” he asks.
“Shower,” Sloane answers.
“All four of us?”
She looks at him.
“Do you have enough hot water?”
Dante grins.
“I’ll check.”
He runs upstairs. Sloane turns toward me.
“Where are they?”
I know what she means. I remove her underwear from my pocket and place them in her open palm. She holds up the torn scrap of lace.
“These are ruined.”
“They became caught on my ring.”
“You tore them deliberately.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted something that smelled like you.”
Callum becomes still.
I refuse to look at him. Sloane steps closer.
“Did you enjoy carrying them while the others touched me?”
“Yes.”
“Did it make you jealous?”
“Yes.”
“Did you like being jealous?”
I consider lying.
“No.”
Her fingers catch the waistband of my pants.
“But you liked knowing I would come back to you.”
“Yes.”
