Addy was standing at the window, staring out, the smallest breeze lifting the ends of her hair. She’d stripped down to shorts and a sports bra, a sheen of sweat on her skin. Lori put the box down and walked up behind her. She made no attempt at being quiet, but it still startled Addy when she put her hands on her shoulders.
‘Sorry.’ Lori brushed her hair to the side, kissed her neck. When she wrapped her arms around her, she could feel the smoothness of the scar running down and around Addy’s side. It was long and pink, and it was still hard for Lori to look at it. The faded scar from the burn on her arm was her own reminder. She pressed her cheek to Addy’s and stared out at the bright blue sky, and the orange surrounds of the flat desert town they’d call home for a while. There was no way Lori would live anywhere it snowed ever again, nowhere with mountains, nothing that would be a reminder for either of them.
The door bell rang, and they both turned, glancing out the bedroom door and then at each other. Addy slipped away and Lori reached out for her. There was a faint trace of panic in Addy’s voice, ‘We don’t even know anyone yet.’
Lori shook her head and went to see. Addy was behind her, pausing at the bottom of the stairs. It took some fiddling to get all the locks undone—the first thing installed—and she left it on the chain as she cracked the door open. There was no one out there, not even a car parked out front. Peering down, Lori saw something on the doormat. A basket of flowers.
She undid the chain and opened the door, crouched and pulled out a little white envelope nestled in the flower arrangement. There was a card inside.
Missing you already.
‘Who’re they from?’ Addy was behind her now, leaning in the doorway to look over her shoulder.
‘There’s no name.’ Lori handed up the card.
Addy stared at it for longer than it took to read three words. ‘You don’t think…’
They both knew the end of that sentence. And neither wanted to say it out loud.
Lori picked up the flowers and carried them inside, nudging the door closed with her foot. She looked for a place to put them while Addy secured the locks. Clearing a spot on the coffee table, she almost dropped the basket when her phone rang. She dreaded to pull it from her pocket, but then she saw the name and swiped to answer.
Olly didn’t give her a chance to say hello, bursting in with a bubbled, ‘Do you like them?’
Hand on her chest to stop her heart from beating out of her ribcage, Lori cleared her throat. ‘What?’
‘The flowers!’
Relief came with a full-body shiver. ‘They’re from you.’ She turned to Addy, ‘They’re from Olly.’
Addy rubbed her hands over her face and turned away, letting out a sigh as she wandered into the kitchen.
Lori heard her searching through things, the tap running, and then Olly’s voice in her ear. ‘How’s the new place?’
‘It’s great. The house is—’
There was a clatter of glass shattering.
‘Olly, can I call you back?’
‘Sorry. Yes. Sure. You’re busy settling in. I’ll let you go.’
After thanking her for the flowers and promising to call soon, Lori hung up. She found Addy staring down at shards of glass on the floor. Her hands gripped the edge of the sink, her shoulder blades sticking out like broken wings. She was shaking.
Lori bundled her in, wrapping her arms tightly around her. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you, ever. Never again. We’re safe here. Okay?’ It was the same thing Em had said to her, back in that kitchen.
‘You can’t promise that.’
Lori swallowed back the lingering panic, finding the strength to admit that, ‘No. I can’t.’
‘She’s still out there.’ Addy’s voice was small, muffled against Lori’s chest. Addy hadn’t talked to Lori about what had happened when Em took her, only with Detective Cooper. He’d searched Em’s house, who’d been and gone already, and had found two bodies in her backyard. Lori pushed the thought from her mind. ‘Maybe. But she was hurt pretty bad. She could have bled out wherever she was hiding, and they just haven’t found her body yet.’
‘No. She’s alive.’
‘You don’t know that, and even if…’ Lori put a knuckle under Addy’s chin, lifting her gaze up, holding it steady. ‘I’ve got you. Whatever you need. I’ll always be here.’
Addy’s breath hitched as they kissed and Lori felt the warmth of tears on her cheeks, salty on her lips. She pulled her back in and held her tight. ‘We can stand in this spot forever, if you want, and I’ll never let you go.’
EPILOGUE
SUNLIGHT STREAMS THROUGH a panel of four windows. The room is decorated very particularly; sparsely but calming. Lori sits patiently while her therapist walks around his desk and sits down. He opens his notebook, leans forward in his chair. ‘So… It’s been six months. How do you feel?’
Lori rubs her thumb over the face of a coin, worn smooth from constant fidgeting. She spins it between her fingers as she weighs the question. How did she feel? About which part, exactly?
How does she feel about all the people who died: Lena, Marina, Jeremy, her parents, even?
About the fear that had come with being stalked and kidnapped and held at knifepoint, fearing not only for her life but for Addy’s, and Em’s.
Or how the trauma of her childhood was nothing compared to the mind-bending confusion of having her longest and best friend turn into a person she barely recognised. That at the time it was all happening, she didn’t have the ability or presence to process or feel what was being done, or what she was being told. So when it hit her, it hit hard and then never let up.
How does she feel about the part where she needs therapy three times a week? The part where every day is a struggle. Trying to trick her mind into believing that it was not all her fault. The survivor’s guilt, as he’d termed it.
Or about not knowing if Em is alive and still out there. If she’s found her and Addy, and is just waiting to hit again.
How does she feel considering Addy is just as much a wreck as she is?
That fear grips her harder than love, every time Addy is out of her sight.
How does she feel on the nights she can’t sleep? Or the nights she can, but then wakes up drenched in sweat, reliving it all in her dreams. Or the nights where she’s so exhausted she sleeps like a rock and wakes up in a panic, thinking Em could have been there standing over her the whole night.
That every morning she’s afraid to look out her windows, to open her door.
Or that no place feels safe, not even in a different town across the other side of the country.
That every unexpected sound sets her heart racing.
How does she feel about the fact that the only things keeping her from going absolutely bat-crap insane are the tiny moments? When she forgets for a second.
The smile that comes a little more easily and lasts a little longer.
The bubble of laughter that doesn’t feel forced or fake.
The small touch that doesn’t make her jump.
Lori palms the coin and slides back in her chair. ‘How do I feel?’
The therapist nods, his whole upper body dips at the movement.
‘Terrified.’
AUTHOR NOTE
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All She Wants: A Christmas Romance is coming out in November 2020.
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AJ Marchant is an Australian author living in a small rural tow
n, but missing the grunge of the city and the relaxed coastal vibe of home. Far from a talkative and bubbly morning person, AJ is up at 5am, greeted by Domino, an always happy black-and-white dog who’s learned how to escape his sleeping tent. After feeding the dogs and making a cup (read: bowl) of coffee, it’s straight to the laptop, ready to work on the story in progress.
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AJ’s Other Books
Where The Light Lasts Longer
getbook.at/WTLLL
August
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Prose & Procrastination V01 Call It What You Will
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