5. Kira
5
KIRA
B ryce was looking for me.
He’s a cop, Kira. Of course he’s going to go through all your stuff, and at least think those postcards Dom sent might lead him to you.
I’d have started my car and tore out of Wylder already if it hadn’t been for the sheriff lying about me being here.
Bryce sent that fax. Whether he sent it at the station back in Missouri or had someone else send it makes no difference. That he sent it here means he must know where I am.
Yet Shawn looked right at me, smiled and said he hadn’t seen anyone matching my description.
Why did he lie?
After humiliating myself in front of a table full of strangers, who seemed nice, but were definitely pretending to ignore my freak out, I mumbled some excuse about needing to check something in my car and I’ve been here sitting in it since then.
Dom had introduced everyone to me when I’d walked into the light gray and black shaker-style kitchen with one of those extendable tables that could fit twenty people.
I’d struggled to match names to faces as they smiled and waved.
Galen and Sierra, I remember from last night, the big guy who had initially scared me because he’d moved so quietly for such a big man. One moment I was talking with Dom, and the next Galen was filling the doorway asking who I was.
His fiancé, Sierra, a petite woman with a blunt dark brown bob and piercing gray eyes had seemed nice.
All the other names had blurred together.
Alys, Nick, Jones, Bethany, Chloe, and Rose. All were in their mid to late twenties. All looked put together and casual in jeans and sweats.
And all could not have helped notice my awkwardness, or the way my T-shirt hadn’t fully dried from washing it in the bathroom sink last night. But no one had laughed or looked at me strangely when I’d nearly had a panic attack after dropping my fork.
If I’d dropped that fork and spilled food everywhere in Bryce’s presence, he’d have punished me. Nothing that would leave bruises. He’d have me clean everything, and once he’d confirmed I’d done an acceptable job, he’d throw everything I’d made in the trash and make me start over.
“Without the mess this time, Kira,” he’d say, cracking open a bottle a beer and settling on the couch to await his dinner. “Because no husband likes a useless wife.”
It wouldn’t have mattered if it was 6, and I’d had a roast in the crock-pot for the last 5 hours. I would go to the store to pick up another roast and all the ingredients I’d used up, and I’d start over.
From scratch.
When he got to bed later than usual, it was my fault for messing up the dinner. And if he woke late for work the next morning…
Well, some wives were sweet to their husbands and others were fuck ups. There was no mistaking which one I was from the tone of Bryce’s voice.
“So now, what, Kira?” I mutter as I cook in my car. The sun rises and minute by minute, it becomes more unbearable to sit in it. I could turn the engine on, crank up the AC, but that would eat up gas and if I kill my battery? No. I could even open a window, but sitting in my car with the windows rolled up used to be how I relaxed.
Some people watch a movie or meditate to relax. I’d scream in my car or I’d have gone crazy years ago.
Bryce would be at work, and I’d go into the garage, get in my car, start up the radio, and after checking I’d rolled the window all the way up, I’d scream so loud I couldn’t hear myself think anymore. Just to channel out all the pain, anger, hurt, and the frustration in a way that wouldn’t get back to Bryce.
Because Bryce was the perfect former star quarterback from the local high school with the helpful, cheerful wife. No one would have believed anything was wrong with him.
No one would have believed me when they saw Bryce as some kind of hero.
“You’re a lucky thing.” Suzan Clarke pats the back of my hand when she corners me after church.
“Aaron must have been so disappointed in you for running off to get married like that while he was on deployment.” She tuts. “He would have wanted to walk you down the aisle. As is right, Kira.”
“Oh, he ? —”
“But he must be relieved you’re not at home all alone now with him being deployed again. Even if you didn’t do it the right way.”
“I was ? —”
“But I guess young love can’t wait,” she interrupts. Again.
She wasn’t the only one who thought that way.
In a small town, everyone assumes they know everything about your life, your feelings, and what you need. Everyone thought Bryce was doing me, the poor Palmerston orphan, a favor when he married her.
When Aaron came home from deployment, he was relieved I wasn’t alone anymore. He thought I was happy, and I didn’t want to tell him it had been a mistake. That Bryce wasn’t the man I thought he was.
Then Aaron had died, and I truly was all alone in the world. No parents, no big brother, and no other living relatives. Just a small town of people who’d known me since I was a kid, and assumed my life with Bryce was perfect because Bryce made them think it was.
After I screamed out my rage in the garage, I’d return to the house to clean, cook, and being Bryce’s sweet wife until the next time I needed to scream in my car again.
I should start up the engine and leave.
I’ve already stuck my key in the ignition twice, but stopped short of starting it. Wylder is tiny. I could be out of this town in under twenty minutes.
And I would, really I would, if I could understand why the hell the sheriff lied to protect me.
My shirt is clinging to my back, all cold and unpleasant. If I stayed, someone is going to notice that my T-shirt is still damp from not having nearly enough time to dry from my handwash in the bathroom sink. How would I explain that?
I put my hands back on the steering wheel, the hard plastic getting increasingly hot from the sun beaming onto it.
I seized on the opportunity to stay here for Dom’s birthday, but is that really the right decision to make when Bryce is already working all his and his dad’s cop connections to hunt me down?
The smart thing to do would be to turn this car around and head for Alaska.
My gaze slides to my fuel gauge. It’s not the first time I’ve checked it. The question I had before is the same one I have now.
Can you make it to Alaska with a quarter of gas in the tank?
The farmhouse’s front door swings open. It’s the strangest thing, but I have a feeling I know exactly who it will be.
Dom.
He never told me his last name back in Missouri. He was, for the longest time, just Dom, Aaron’s new neighbor and suddenly the best friend I had to meet.
I’d been so curious. Palmerston is a small town, and there weren’t new friends to meet. Everyone was already friends with everyone.
Aaron didn’t stay in town for long. Maybe a month or two and he’d be off on another deployment for months and months at a time.
We inherited our parents' home when they died, fully paid for, and since I lived with Bryce at his house, that was where Aaron stayed when he was home.
Because it was home, we had never been interested in selling it, so I cleaned it and kept up with the gardening when Aaron was away.
I didn’t mind. It was an excuse to be away from Bryce, so I took my time.
Our old neighbor died and his daughter rented the place out so she could afford the expensive New York life she didn’t want to give up, but would always have a home to come back to if she ever got tired of paying three thousand dollars a month for a studio in Manhattan.
I was curious about meeting Aaron’s friend, the new renter next door, so I didn’t hesitate to say yes. A husband should always accompany his wife on events, Bryce told me when I asked for permission.
To keep her safe. Naturally.
I’d made the salad Aaron always loved for his BBQ, dressing modestly as Bryce preferred his sweet wife to dress.
Dom barely spoke five words to me, ate a mouthful of my salad, and left early.
Every single time I saw him in the grocery store or in town, when I was with Aaron or Bryce, he could never wait for the first opportunity to get away from me.
It was so blindingly obvious that Bryce decided a husband didn’t need to accompany his wife to every single event to keep her safe anymore. At least when it came to Dom, who couldn’t have made it any clearer that he wanted nothing to do with me.
Our gazes connect across the feet separating the front porch and my car.
His expression doesn’t change, but he must be wondering what I’m doing roasting in my car with all the windows rolled up.
I tell myself to start up my engine, put my car in reverse and hightail it from Wylder, because if Bryce found me here, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Dom.
I don’t because I’m not a strong person. Not anymore. Maybe I once was. I don’t feel like the same Kira Matheson I was before Bryce turned her into Kira Peters.
I became needy. Jumpy. Flinching at the smallest things. Always smiling.
Bryce Peter’s perfect wife.
I hated that woman before I left, and I hate her now.
That cop lied to Bryce, which means I have an opportunity to earn a bit of cash, hide out a little and get even further away from Bryce because suddenly, even Alaska doesn’t seem far enough. Australia would be ideal.
I tug my key out of the ignition and I get out of my car, slamming the door shut. And I walk over to the front porch where Dom hasn’t moved. He’s here to talk to me about something so obvious, that of course he couldn’t have missed it.
“You know, don’t you?” I ask, stopping at the foot of the porch.
He tilts his head, expression quizzical. “Know what?”
“That I left Bryce, and that Shawn, your cop friend, knows it was me he was looking for?”
“I suspected something of the sort,” he says, voice giving nothing away.
I’m relieved he doesn’t ask why I ran, what I’m doing here, and where I plan to go next. The answers to all of the above would be too big, too messy, and too painful—never mind embarrassing—to say out loud.
“Do you know if anyone is hiring?”
His slow blink tells me I just surprised him.
I stiffen my back and my shoulders. “It would only be for a few days. Then I’d be out of your hair.”
He looks at me for a long moment, his chest rising as he breathes in and then falling when he exhales. Then he turns around. “Leave it with me. I’ll ask around.”
He puts his hand on the door, and I call after him. “You’re not going to ask about Bryce?”
He keeps his back to me. “I figure you’ll tell me what you want me to know, and right now, it’s probably for the best that time isn’t now.”
I frown, confused, as he disappears inside.