Chapter 19 #2
Oh fuck! My head goes immediately silent as my eyes pick up on movement down the driveway. My heart starts hammering against my ribs, and I reach for the back of my jeans before realizing that I didn’t bring a gun with me tonight because of course I didn’t.
But there is definitely someone creeping toward the house. Glancing to my left, I see the bat Leaf had been using to chase Michael. Never in my entire life did I think I’d be snagging it in my hands and slipping off the porch to run toward a shadowy assailant, but here I am.
“Freeze!” I hold the bat high up over my head once I’m close enough I can make out that it’s a very tall, broad person.
“I…sorry…you…on!”
Fuck, my hearing aids are upstairs, and it’s way too dark for me to make out his features. But I don’t want to tell him I can’t hear him. I don’t want him to think he can get the jump on me.
“Get on the porch,” I say. “Right now.”
He begins to move. It’s still almost pitch-black out. I didn’t want to disturb Leaf, so I left the light off, but I can see him a bit better once we get into the ambient glow of the dining room light.
I can make out short-cut hair, and he’s wearing pajamas with little ducks on them, which doesn’t seem dangerous, but I’ve been fooled by worse.
This man could be a psycho who kills kids in bathtubs for all I know.
“Don’t fucking move,” I order as I walk to the door and open it. I fumble with my fingers until I hit the light switch, and the porch floods with a bright glow.
The man in front of me still has his arms up behind his head. He has light brown hair, tan skin, and very thick eyebrows over deep-set eyes, and the way he’s blinking at me makes me think he’s petrified.
Like at any second, he might piss his pants.
I lower the bat and clear my throat. “Who are you?”
His name is very easy to read off his lips. “Salem.” Then he says something else I can’t catch because he turns his head to the side and points down the road.
I sigh and tap his arm. “Can you look at me when you speak? I’m hard of hearing, and I missed most of that.”
He blinks, and then his eyes widen. ‘Sorry. Sign?’
Salem…Salem. The interpreter guy? The one with the quail that stole all of Leaf’s chickens? I don’t know if I like this guy. I don’t think I want to get to know people who think it’s okay to steal my boyfriend’s shit.
“Why are you here?” I demand, ignoring his first question.
“Michael,” he says, then spells it on his hand a little too fast for me to have picked up without seeing the word on his lips first.
I groan. “Fuck. Was he here?”
“He was in my yard,” Salem answers with his voice and hands. “I followed him over here, but he ran under…I’m guessing that’s your car.” He points.
“Yeah.” My eyes narrow across the driveway, but I can’t see movement.
Salem taps my arm, and I look over at him. “He’s probably gone.”
Passing a hand down my face, I let out a groan and shake my head. “This is getting out of hand.”
He nods, then takes a step back. “Where’s Leaf?”
“Sleeping. We were out with Robbie and Thom tonight,” I say, and Salem’s lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. He probably knows what they got up to tonight. “I was the DD.”
His expression softens. “Are you and Leaf…” He trails off, his fingers twitching like he’s mumbling in ASL.
“He’s my boyfriend,” I say. It’s the second time I’ve used that word aloud, and it feels fucking good. My cheeks are a little hot, but I hope my flush isn’t obvious under the yellow porch light.
He sticks out his hand. “Like I said, I’m Salem. I have a little place down the road. Leaf and I aren’t really friends—he’s been a little stressed-out lately, dealing with Michael. But I try to help him when I can.”
I shake his hand. “By stealing his farm animals?”
Salem’s eyes narrow. “If you had seen what a bad job he was doing—”
I let him go, and in spite of how I would literally kill for Leaf, I know Salem is in the right here. “No, I get it. Trust me. I don’t know if chickens are the best thing for him right now. Not until he solves this groundhog problem.”
Salem lets out a sigh. I can’t hear it, but I see it in the way his shoulders sag and his chest deflates. “I’ve been trying to come up with ways to help. I was worried at first that the thing might be rabid, but I think he’s just an asshole.”
I snort. “He really is.”
“I don’t really advocate for killing pests, but at this point, I’m tempted to tell Leaf to grind up some Lily of the Valley and mix it with some of the veggies that he keeps stealing.”
I don’t love the idea of killing the little fucker either, but I also don’t know another way to save Leaf’s sanity. “Well, I—”
“Did you say Lily of the Valley?” The door flies open, and Leaf is speaking so loudly I can hear him out of my better ear almost perfectly. He lurches into me, and I catch him before he falls. “Did you…was that…”
“Babe,” I murmur softly as I help him stand upright. He’s still a little floppy from everything in his system, and he looks up at me with big doe eyes. “Why are you up?”
“The lights,” he says, waving his hand at them. He switches to sign. ‘Too bright.’
‘You need to go back to bed. We can talk about stuff tomorrow. Salem came to check on you.’
Leaf wrinkles his nose, but he plants a wet kiss on my lips, then waves a sloppy hand at Salem before stumbling back inside.
When I turn back to Salem, he’s frowning at me. ‘You sign.’
‘I’m new,’ I clarify. ‘I wasn’t sure I could trust you.’
He makes a motion with his lips, ‘peh peh,’ to let me know he gets it. “Should I keep speaking?”
“You should probably go back home. It’s late, and I need to go inside and make sure Leaf doesn’t start building a Lily bomb to kill Michael.”
Salem bursts into laughter. “Fair enough. Sorry I scared you.”
I don’t tell him I wasn’t scared. Creeping shadows haven’t bothered me in years. The only thing that terrifies me now is something happening to Leaf.
I give Salem a quick good-night, then head in, going straight to the bedroom to make sure Leaf hasn’t started wandering. He’s half-naked and flopped over my pillow, but he looks up when I step into the room.
“Hi.”
I grin at him. “Hi. You think you can still sleep?”
He shrugs, then signs, ‘Try, maybe.’ He pats the mattress next to him, and I fall against him, pulling him into my chest.
“Let go,” I say into his ear, and he sighs, soft snores coming from his mouth moments later. But I don’t sleep, just feel him slumber.
And then, for the rest of the night, I think about the sealed cellar door, the pictures from the box, and what it all means.