37. Oh, baby, would you burn down the world for me?
37
Oh, baby, would you burn down the world for me?
Moth
A nd so time went on. Before I knew it, weeks had passed and the first trimester became the second. I was as excited as I was nervous, and with every passing day, I wished my mom was there to help me.
I was alone, so I would have to make do.
I could do this. I know I could, but the unfairness of it all got to me more often than I wanted to admit.
Sure, I could do this alone, but that didn’t mean I should have to.
Amelia and Carl got to work finding a bigger place, and it was only a few weeks before they found a little house on the outskirts of town with plenty of room for them and their bundle on the way. I was happy for them, but as happy as I was, I was also sad to see her go. Sure, she was closer than she was before, but I still enjoyed our evenings together, and our shared complaining over morning sickness. I didn’t like the darkness and the night alone when Tommy was on shift at the station. Though the notes had stopped, I was still more uneasy than I liked to admit.
Like now, laying on the couch staring down at my stomach and the way it had begun to curve just enough that outsiders couldn’t tell if it was baby weight or too many cookies at Christmas a couple of weeks back.
Tommy was gone, and I missed him, but I was also enjoying the silence a little more than I cared to admit. He was nothing if not sweet, caring, and doting—but the doting itself had become a little much. Every sneeze, gasp, or slight groan had him running to my side to check on me, and while I loved the caring, I also missed being able to relax.
We’d begun turning my dad’s old office into the nursery, ripping up the tattered, cigarette-burned old carpet to reveal hardwood floors that needed sanded and re-stained. They looked rough now, but I knew after a little work, it could be everything I wanted.
I was planning a jungle theme, with tigers and lemurs and brightly colored macaws adorning the walls. I had already paid a local high school student who had a very promising art portfolio and plans to attend the best art school in the state to work on the murals. Right now they were just shades of beige and brown, but after they finished—
A knock on the door made all thoughts come to a halt, and fear immediately took over my mind.
No one came by without calling. Not Carl, not Amelia, and not anyone I’d hired to work on the house. Besides, it was late, probably close to midnight. Struggling to sit up, I reached over, snatched my phone off the coffee table, and flicked it on .
I was right; it was nearly one in the morning.
My heart started a pattering rhythm in my chest, my breath coming in short bursts as I stood from the couch and slowly tiptoed my way to the door. At Tommy’s request, we covered all the windows with thick curtains and reinforced the front door with long nails and new deadbolts, but still, I was on edge.
Just as I got to the foyer, the knock came again, and I jumped so hard my feet nearly came out from under me, my hand flying up to my lips to hold back the gasp that I bit back.
I stood stark still, unsure of what to do or how to act. Times like this, I wished Tommy was here, or even Amelia or Carl.
What should I do?
With shaking hands, I lifted my phone and jammed in the passcode, hurrying to my contacts and lifting the phone to my ear a second later. It wasn’t until I heard Amelia’s hearty ‘Hello!’ on the other end that I turned, hurrying down the hallway and crouching down in front of the laundry room door.
If I spoke in the foyer, they could hear me. They would know I was here.
“Amelia!” I whispered into the phone, my fingers trembling with fear. “Someone’s at the door.”
“What?!” her voice immediately sounded on edge, and I heard the telltale rustling on the other end telling me she was on the move. “Where’s Tommy?”
“He’s on shift!” I whispered heatedly. “I’m here alone.”
“Shit!” Amelia spat. “Door locked?”
“Yes,” I said, twisting to look at the door and confirm. “Where’s Carl? ”
“He’s on fuckin’ shift ,” she grumbled. “I’m gonna have to let Dale know about the need to avoid scheduling them together for a while. This shit only happens when they’re both at work, and it is stressing me out .”
I wanted to laugh. She was right, but my fear had a firm hold on me.
“Can you look out the kitchen window and see who it is? I’m gonna call Sheriff Banner. Don’t do anything dumb. I’ll be back.”
Sheriff Banner had become close to all of us since the wedding and subsequent positive tests. Tommy had asked him to “swing by a few times a night” if he was able, which had resulted in him coming in for dinner more than a few times and doing a complete sweep of the house and property before bed.
Sighing, I returned to the door as Amelia clicked over to the other line to make the call. My throat was dry, and my heart was hammering against my sternum, but Amelia was right. I had to check. I could be panicking over the wind, and we didn’t need another repeat of that particular night, Amelia and I both hiding in the hall closet as the boys checked the house only to discover that it was the wind slamming the shudder against the siding outside.
Clutching the phone to my ear, I slowly made my way down the hall, careful not to make a single noise as I rounded the corner and stepped into the kitchen. The shadows danced and shifted along the walls as I stepped behind the dining table and reached a shaking hand toward the new, darker curtains I’d hung. Gently plucking them back, I chanced a glance at the front porch, only to be met with—nothing.
I shifted and twisted to the best of my ability, crouching down and pushing up on my toes, only to verify what I already knew.
There was nobody there.
Amelia clicked back onto the line as I let out a long, low sigh, the tension draining away from my shoulders.
“Ness?” she said, her voice shaking. “I called him. He’s on his way. Did you look?”
“Yeah,” I let out a small huff of a laugh. “I looked. All clear. I don’t see shit.”
“That’s even creepier,” she said. “Maybe I should start coming over on the days the boys are on shift.”
“No,” I said with a sigh, turning to leave the kitchen and make my way back into the living room. I was suddenly tired, but I couldn’t head to bed until the sheriff had had a chance to come in and look around. Maybe it was the stress draining me of all the energy the growing baby in my belly was kind enough to leave me with, which wasn’t much. “No, I can’t ask you to do that. I’ll be fine.”
“Did you call Tommy?”
“Not yet.”
“Go ahead and call him,” she said, and I heard the unmistakable jingle of keys. “I’m gonna come over.”
“No, ‘Melia, you don’t have to—”
“Already got my shoes on!” she called, and the line went dead in my hand.
I knew better than to argue, anyway. Once Amelia had her shoes on, there was no stopping her, especially since she was pregnant .
Within twenty minutes, my foyer filled up with people. Tommy had rushed home, getting there in almost the same moment as Amelia. Carl had come with him, and I had no sooner shut the front door than Sheriff Banner was knocking.
Now, I stood in the kitchen, listening to Tommy pace back and forth in front of the door, Sheriff Banner standing beside me and Amelia in the kitchen. Carl had retreated outside to check the perimeter, and we were waiting for him to step back into the house.
“Do you have any idea who it could be?” Amelia asked, looking over at me, one thumb pressed against her lips, her teeth tugging at the corner of her nail.
I sighed, sucking my lips into my mouth, and biting them closed. It was better than the alternative—ripping the skin off with my teeth until they hurt and bled.
“I do,” Tommy spoke up, and the anger that laced his tone was deadly and made me shiver where I stood. Amelia and I turned to look at him, leaning against the kitchen doorway, peering in at us with eyes that shone with fire and ice.
“I know what you’re thinkin’,” the sheriff said, his hands folding in front of him. “I’ve been to his house, and it’s been empty for months. Ain’t nobody there, Tom. He fled town, as far as I know.”
“Who?” I asked, my eyes darting between the two of them. “Who are you—”
“Barrett,” Tommy spat, the name bringing a wrinkle to his nose and a look of disgust across his face as if it were the most disgusting thing he’d had in his mouth until now.
And maybe it was.
The next morning, I woke up alone. With a puzzled expression, I rolled over the best I could and snatched my phone off of the bedside table next to me. It took several minutes of blinking and rubbing my eyes to see clearly. I had just managed to flip my phone open and find his text when I heard the telltale creak of the front door popping open downstairs.
He sent his text over two hours ago now, saying he would be back soon, and Carl and Amelia were downstairs to keep me safe.
Fighting to roll out of bed, I knew what a real struggle felt like. Finally, I placed my feet on solid ground, and I stood up, feeling the ache in my hips and back from my future growing inside of me. It took a few seconds more than I thought it would to catch my breath, and when I did, I hurried out of the room and down the stairs. I made it to the first landing before I saw him, standing at the front door, with a happy dog waggling at his side and a leash wrapped around his hand.
I was barely halfway down the final flight before the dog turned his dark muzzle to look at me, his tan body stiff and unsure as I approached. He was all lean muscle, with tall black ears and a soft tan body that ended in long, athletic legs.
“Who’s this?” I asked, and Tommy looked up at me with a proud smile.
“This is Duke,” he said, reaching out to hand me the leash. “And he’s yours. ”
Confusion mixed with anticipation as I took the leash from him, still trying to process what was happening.
“Mine?” I asked.
“Yep,” Tommy said, looking lovingly down at us as Duke wiggled and wagged, slowly stepping closer. “He’s a retired K-9 officer. With everything that’s been happening around here, I thought it would be good to have a set of eyes around when I’m not.”
I tried my best to kneel with my swollen stomach in the way. Just a couple of years working in the clinic told me dogs—especially working dogs—didn’t like it when you bent over them, and instead preferred you to come down to their level.
“Hey there, Duke,” I said softly, offering my hand for him to sniff. His warm nose brushed against my palm, and a wave of affection washed over me. It was as if Duke understood me more than I understood him.
“Retired?” I asked, looking up at Tommy as my hands ran down the fur running down his thick, muscular neck. “He seems pretty young.”
“He’s three,” Carl chimed in from around the corner of the kitchen. “He was top of his class until he had an accident at the academy. Broke his back leg and now he has a limp, so he retired early.”
I stood up, Duke’s leash secure in my hand. As I glanced back at Tommy, he wore a contented smile. He was happy with himself, it seemed, and even if I was grateful, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was a bad idea .
“I don’t know…” I said, sighing. “I kind of wanted to get horses again, and maybe some goats. I’d need either livestock guardian dogs or some herders. Malinois are a lot of work.”
“Anything you want,” Tommy said. When I looked up at him, there was an expression on his face that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was determination as much as it was pleading. “And he can be my dog if that’s what it takes, but I need someone here to help when I’m not.”
I sighed again, looking down at Duke. He seemed to be a very sweet dog, and maybe Tommy was right—maybe it would be good to have a little peace of mind when he wasn’t home.
“Come out back,” Tommy said, popping the front door open. “I’ve got something else to show you.”
Duke waited patiently at my side as I stepped into my boots and grabbed my coat from the hook beside the door. His brown eyes watched with interest as I shrugged it on and struggled to button it in front of me. When I was done, he calmly stepped out the door with me. He didn’t pull at the leash or tug impatiently when it took me a little longer than him to get out the door.
He underwent extensive training, and I don’t know why I expected any different.
Tommy held out a hand and helped me down the stairs, the frigid wind whipping through his dark hair. The world around us was a sea of white snow and ice. Reaching down, Tommy gently took the leash from me so I could shove my hands into my coat pockets, and reached down, unclipping Duke. I expected him to explode, bounding ahead and running through the snow like my childhood dog always had, but again, he pleasantly surprised me .
We trudged through the winter wonderland, our footsteps crunching in the freshly fallen snow. Everything around us was silent, and almost unnervingly so. Duke walked ahead of us but stayed close enough that he could turn around and quickly answer any command we gave, his paws leaving imprints on the pristine white canvas.
Tommy and I followed closely behind, our breath catching in the frosty air. The cold seemed to seep into every crevice, chilling me to the bone. Duke, with his thick fur coat, seemed unaffected.
As we made our way through the frozen landscape, the surrounding stillness was broken only by the sound of our footsteps and the occasional gust of wind. The world had transformed into a serene and ethereal thing, with icicles glistening on the branches of trees and snowflakes gently descending from the sky.
Duke’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement, his tail wagging in anticipation. He seemed to revel in the beauty of nature, finding joy in the simplest of things.
Close to the barn, Tommy found the covered-over stump of a long cut-down tree and reached down, swiping a gloved hand across it to clear the snow.
“Here. Sit. I’ve gotta show you something.”
Even if I wasn’t quite thrilled about parking my butt on a cold, wet stump, I did as he asked, folding my arms over my chest and turtling my neck down into the collar of my jacket.
“It’s cold,” I complained, and Tommy smiled down at me.
Reaching into his jacket, he pulled something from the inner pocket, and the minute I saw it, I almost jumped out of my skin.
My dad’s service pistol .
“So that’s where it went,” I said, feigning confusion. As if I didn’t know.
“Very funny,” he grumbled, sniffling against the cold as he popped the clip to check the bullets.
“Weren’t you scared I was gonna shoot you?” I asked, watching his expression. It stayed unchanging. He shrugged.
“Not really,” he said, popping the clip back into place. “My dad always used to say I wasn’t smart enough to be afraid of anything.”
“That’s terrible,” I said, frowning.
“Don’t worry about it. My dad was a drunk, and a woman beater. Didn’t ever teach me anything anyway,” he said, turning. Duke sat at his feet, looking up at him with a happy smile, his tongue lolling out one side of his mouth. “Watch this. This dog is gun-proof.”
Turning, he raised the gun in his hand and fired off into the distance. It went off with a heart-stopping bang, and I jumped, but in the snow, Duke didn’t even react. He didn’t even seem to notice. He simply turned his head in the direction Tommy had shot, and while I knew it was miles and miles of empty pasture, I couldn’t help but worry someone would get hurt.
“Wild,” I said, watching as Duke wagged his tail lazily, creating his own personal style of snow angel.
Turning back to me, Tommy flipped the safety and handed the gun to me
“What’s that for?” I asked, taking it. It was heavy with more than just weight alone. I had the power to kill dangling between my fingertips.
“To keep me out of prison,” he says .
“Prison?”
He nods.
“Because if anyone comes into this house and hurts you, I’ll get sent away.”
“I think that’s considered self-defense,” I said, sighing.
“Self-defense is when you kill to protect yourself,” he said, reaching down to ruffle Duke’s leathery ears. “What I would do would be considered torture.”