Page 4 of Lost to Thievery
I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t make it that easy for him to be rid of me. I had a score to settle. I had a life to ruin.
Rachel chattered on about how Mrs. Vandermeere refused to read the book she picked for book club, something I hadn’t bothered to attend since coming back. According to the prudish old woman, Dracula should be a banned book.
Rachel handed me my lunch before unwrapping her own. It was our new daily ritual, meeting up at the park for lunch.
I had read all the book club picks with Rachel, welcoming any opportunity to escape my own life, but I couldn’t stand to bearound other people more than I had to. Most days, I didn’t even bother to go to my shop, leaving the noisy customers to Macey, while I attended the gardens, trying to restore them back to their former glory. But tried as I might, they wouldn’t flourish for me. Did they sense my unwillingness? Or was I tainting them with my sickness? Infecting them with the bitterness festering in my chest?
Even Frank stopped coming by. Since he retired, he’d been adamant in helping me with the gardens when I returned. But his visits became fewer and fewer as I withdrew more and more into my darkness. He finally got the picture and never came back.
Not that I cared. I only did all this to keep up a semblance of normalcy to fool the devil. And keep my parents from fussing too much.
I hadn’t noticed that Rachel had gone quiet. She was staring at me. And I knew that look. “Rachel, don’t,” I groaned, but her look of determination didn’t falter.
“No. I can’t keep quiet anymore. I’ve been watching you wither away into an oldhag.” She took my hands as I scoffed at the very accurate insult. Leave it to Rachel to give it to me straight. “I’ve given you time, I’ve stayed quiet, I’ve held my tongue, but you’re not getting better, babe. You’re getting worse. Your sadness is turning into bitterness and hatred. And I cannot in good conscience watch this change you. So speak to me, A. What’s going on in that beautiful heart of yours? Let me in, so I can carry this with you. Witches who cry together, survive together, remember?”
I hung my head and watched the teardrops darken my jeans. “I don’t know if Icansurvive this, Rach. I loved him.So much. And even after he ripped me apart, I still do. And that’s the worst fucking part. He left me. He loved me so fiercely, and then he just left me. Like it was nothing, and then never lookedback. How does that make sense, Rach? Because I’m suffocating without him,” I admitted. “If he truly loved me as much as I love him, it would’ve been impossible for him to leave me.”
I always thought your heart was a little black, but I was wrong. Now I know better, Gray. You don’t have one.
Rachel wound her arm around me, pulling me closer. She sighed as she wiped at my cheeks, then at her own. “I don’t know, babe. Not many people can fool you. You would’ve known if something was off.”
“But, Idid. I knew exactly where it was gonna end. I’d felt it in my bones from the first time he kissed me. And I still couldn’t stop. I ignored the signs because how could anything soperfectend up so broken?” A bitter laugh escaped me. “I guess I only have myself to blame.”
“Nope. No, we’re definitely still blaming the conman.”
“Gods, I hate him,” I spat, leaning back into the park bench to look at the clouds gathering above. “I fucking hate him.”
Rachel snickered. “Well, that’s a first for you.”
“It’s the only thing that’s keeping me going. He might’ve killed me, but I won’t rest until the bastard is buried right beside me. He doesn’t get to live happily ever after.”
Rachel sat up straighter, nodding. “Okay. Turning into vengeful, old hags it is. But our wardrobe is lacking, honestly. We need to go shopping. We don’t own nearly enough black. And we must stop by the cemetery. We’ll need some graveyard dirt if we’re gonna put a proper curse on him. My great aunt Linda won’t mind if we use some of hers. She hated men.”
I laughed through the still flowing tears. I should have trusted Rachel with my hurt. I just didn’t want my sickness to rub off on her. Infect her like it infected my gardens, until her heart was as black and shrivelled as mine. But maybe I had it wrong. Maybe she would help heal me instead. “Okay, but no black. I hate black.”
“Fine. We’ll look much worse in a muddy-brown anyway.”
“Your secret phone is ringing,” Rachel chirped from the stove. She’d been cooking some variation of pasta for three months straight, knowing it’s my comfort food. And I was ashamed to say that I wasn’t sick of it yet.
I darted past the kitchen into my bedroom, answering just in time. “Agent Becket,” I responded breathlessly. “You have good news. I can feel it.”
He laughed. “I think I do. A friend of mine that works at an airport in Mexico thinks he spotted our perps. They arrived yesterday morning in a private jet.”
My heart hammered in my chest. “You seem to have a lot of friends in weird places, Agent Becket. So, what now?”
He was quiet for a while. “There must be something there that got them out of hiding. Something worth the risk. Or maybe our plan worked, and they’ve become complacent. Grayson had never been one to sit still for too long.”
It was the first time someone had spoken his name in a while, and I didn’t want to admit to myself what it did to my insides. “Are we going to Mexico or what?” I asked impatiently. I had a visceral need to find Grayson and make him pay. And this was our first break in months.
“Hold your horses. Even if itisthem, and that’s a bigif, it’ll be like looking for three needles in a Mexico-sized haystack. We arenotblowing your cover for that manyifs.”
“You promised, Owen… I mean, Agent Becket. You said I could be there when you take them down. And it’s them. I can feel it in my gut. We just need to figure out what caught Grayson’s interest, and we’ll find them.”
Becket was quiet for a long time. I held my breath, waiting for him to decide.
“Fine,” he exhaled on a huff. “I don’t know why I’m followingyourgut, but I’ll come get you.”
I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, feeling a glimmer of hope for the first time in months.
