Chapter 5 #2
It took me half an hour to get to the supermarket, mostly because I was stopped by a lady running along the sidewalk with her chocolate Labrador.
She introduced herself, then proceeded to tell me how lucky I was to have hooked Samael.
Apparently this neighborhood were a bunch of gossips and she’d already been told what I looked like and who I was.
I listened before fleeing for my life when she’d finally lost her grip on my arm.
By the time I reached the grocery store, I was done with socializing. I’d talked to more people in the last hour than I had in my entire time on the streets. I didn’t like it.
With the credit card clutched in my hand in the coat pocket, I unfolded my cart and moved directly to the bakery section. I’d always had a love for pastries and bread, ever since I was a kid and my mom took me to the local French patisserie. That was before my real dad walked out of our lives.
A grocery store’s bakery had nothing on the patisserie, but I didn’t care.
It was warm and smelled like freshly baked food that made my mouth water.
I immediately reached for some white bread before I moved to the pastries and sweets.
The macarons were my first choice, but I added a bear claw to my cart as well.
I had the damn cart a quarter full before I got to the fruit section.
It took me another twenty minutes of salivating over the most wonderful food I’d seen before I arrived at the cashier. A girl that didn’t look much younger than me blinked at me from behind gold-rimmed glasses. She smiled, flashing her braces.
“Do I know you?” She began to scan the groceries I’d added to the conveyer belt.
“No,” I answered immediately.
“I think I do.” She popped her lips at me.
When I had all the food and essentials on the belt, I took a moment to really stare at her.
She had frizzy crimson hair she’d pulled tight at the back of her head and freckles splattered across her nose and cheeks.
Her lips were bright pink, but not by any kind of makeup product.
She did look familiar, but I couldn’t place her.
“You don’t know me.” I crossed my arms.
She narrowed her eyes on me before her face lit up. “I do! You used to go to high school with my sister. Melody.”
Melody. The name bounced around my head. It was a rare and very familiar name, one that I didn’t care to remember. I winced.
“Your name starts with E, right? Is it Edward?”
“Can you please finish scanning my stuff?” I snapped before I could stop myself.
The lady waiting behind me frowned, but she didn’t say anything like I’d expected.
She clutched her handbag closer to her side, and shame curled low in my stomach.
I glanced away and held the credit card a little tighter in my pocket.
The redhead stared at me with wide eyes as she continued with her job.
I used the credit card, then shoved the cart out of the store before she could say anything else to me.
My heart jumped in my chest when I nearly ran into someone.
I glanced back, but the cashier had forgotten me already, serving the next lady as though she hadn’t said a damned thing to me.
And here I was, heart beating so rapidly I thought it would rip itself from my chest and run away, leaving me to die.
My past danced around me like a ghost. Even in a pretty neighborhood like this, I was mocked by Melody’s sister.
Fuck. Fear crept up my spine and my grip tightened on the handle of the shopping cart as I pushed it into the parking lot.
I transferred the groceries into the collapsible cart before I dragged it back toward Samael’s house.
I breathed through my nose, suddenly aware of the throb in my cheek, nose, and in the corner of my eye again.
The cold wind didn’t numb the pain like I’d hoped it would, but the chill prickled at my skin, even through the layers of clothing.
I walked faster, ignoring the friendly hellos until I’d forced the cart up onto the cement path that led right up to Samael’s front door.
I carried the groceries into the house and folded up the cart before I returned to the warmth of the kitchen to store the food and essentials away in what I assumed was their rightful place.
Then, I chose to sit on the couch, staring at the fireplace which I hadn’t lit yet.
The furnace was running and I reveled in the comfort.
I closed my eyes, not even realizing I’d fallen asleep until I woke with a start. Rubbing my cheek carefully, I glanced around the room, then at the clock hanging on the wall. It was later in the afternoon. I must’ve slept for at least three hours.
My stomach growled, reminding me about all the yummy food I’d bought.
How could I be so stupid to forget that I was allowed to eat it?
Groaning to myself, I went to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich—ham, tomato, and lettuce—the kind I used to love as a teenager.
I ate slowly, my stomach twisting into knots with each bite.
Fifteen minutes later, my body settled around the unfamiliar feeling of fullness.
I brushed the crumbs off my hands and rose when my gaze caught the basement door.
I froze, staring. Samael wouldn’t know. I could take a quick peek.
Taking a deep breath, I shifted toward the door and twisted the knob.
The hinges creaked as it swung open, revealing a set of stairs that led downward. One step at a time.
Down.
Down.
Down.
What happened to Samael’s privacy? Who was I kidding? He wasn’t going to keep me around. Why would he? I needed answers.
My chest clenched around my heart when my foot met the cement floor.
The quietness of the room meant I could hear my own deep breathing and I hated the goose bumps that rose on my arms. All I had to do was turn around and walk back up those stairs, pretend I hadn’t come down here, but I couldn’t. Not now.
The dim room was lit by a nightlight in the corner, which cast a soft glow and gave me enough light to see the actual switch that would light up the entire room. I flipped it. The sudden brightness made me blink a few times as my eyes adjusted.
The basement was much bigger than any other room in the house, but it was almost as bare as the others.
On the far wall was a metal storage cabinet that looked like it might be for tools.
Beside it rested a table made out of the same metal, with a wooden peg board hanging on the bricks above it.
The board held different sizes of knives and saws and one axe.
A wide, deep sink with a tap sat beside the table, with a hose attached.
There was a washing machine, too.
Ice trickled through my veins as my gaze rested on a freezer on the right side of the room, big enough to easily fit three bodies.
Another storage cabinet sat beside it, this one made of wood.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped toward it and opened the rickety old doors.
Inside wasn’t what I’d expected. It held freezer bags and tarp.
“Something a serial killer would need,” I muttered. I stepped in front of the freezer and grasped the lip, shoving it open to find nothing. It was empty. “What?”
Something slammed behind me, and I spun around to find Samael at the bottom of the stairs, eyebrows furrowed and smile curved on his lips. He held up his notepad, shaking it at me, before he marched over and shoved it into my hands.
I stared down at it.
What did you expect to find? Dead bodies?
I licked my lips nervously and looked at him. “Isn’t that what you do with them? Chop them up and freeze them?” I sounded more confident than I felt.
“Yes,” he mouthed. His grin widened. My stomach twisted, but it wasn’t from the food this time.
Samael’s breathtaking smile rendered me speechless.
There was something about the way he always looked so honest, as though I knew he wouldn’t lie.
It was fucked. The guy killed three men last night and I’d barely known him for twenty-four hours, yet I was nothing but putty in his hands.
Samael had the same life as all the other people I hated.
He lived in a nice home, the kind I dreamed of.
Yet, I didn’t dislike him. I trusted him.
“What did you do with them?” I whispered, taking a step closer to hand back the notepad.
He scribbled in it before passing it back.
They’re gone.
“Don’t you trust me?” A sliver of anger worked its way through me.
He cocked his head as though he wasn’t sure what to make of my words.
“I didn’t run to the cops,” I snapped, crossing my arms. “You saved my life. I’m not gonna rat on you.”
He touched my shoulder, and I leaned into it.
With a shake of his head, he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb before he turned and headed up the stairs again.
I watched him, gaze sliding to his muscular ass, which his pants encased perfectly.
His cheeks moved with every step he took.
It was only when he reached the top of the stairs and turned to me that I moved instinctively.
I was at his side in seconds, and the smile he gave me was worth it.
He guided me out the door and closed it behind him. The snick of the latch catching sounded almost final, like I wasn’t going to know the real him, and I hated it because as much as the thought scared me, I wanted to know his homicidal side. I desired to know everything.
“Come.” His broken voice startled me into following him into the kitchen because, apparently, my body would intuitively follow him anywhere.
I was fucked—and not in a good way.