Page 65 of Tenebrous
Goddammit.
Another pang of agony blooms in my chest, but I hold in my gasp as I peek at the sheriff through the windows. He stands at the counter with his back to me, one hand planted beside the register.
“What do you want?” Mary grunts, one eye squinted.
“Coffee.”
“Machine’s been making sludge all day.”
“Sounds perfect.”
Their voices muffle behind the glass, and I move a little closer to hear the conversation better. She fills a foam cup for him straight from the pot, but when her gaze shifts toward the window, she freezes.
For one suspended heartbeat, our eyes meet before I can duck.
The cup slips from her hand, causing Earl to turn his head with a frown. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” she says sharply, redirecting his attention.
“You're looking mighty pale there.”
“I'm old, son. These joints don't work like they used to.”
Earl snorts, and the two continue normal conversation. Something about the weather, I don't fucking know, but my teeth grind at how… nonchalant he seems. Pain prickles on my palms from how hard I dig my nails into the skin. This motherfucker kills Manny in cold blood, tries to kill me, and he just gets away with it?
Not to mention what he did to his own son.
And he stole my car.
It takes all my strength not to snatch the rifle from the open window of my Camaro and put a bullet in his head. He'd deserve it but knowing my luck, one of his cop buddies would arrest me, and nobody would believe the truth. So instead, I just stand there and seethe in silence.
A moment later, Earl says his goodbyes, and the little bell above the door jingles when he walks out. I curl tighter against the freezer as his boots cross the pavement, but my breath catches when I hear him slow to a stop. Shit.
All that stands between us is this humming metal box. One step to the left, and he’d see me. Maybe he already has.
Fuck, I'm dead. This is it. There's no coming back this time and no monster to save me. I'm going to die in this podunk little town without anyone knowing. God, why did I come back? I should have stayed with Orion because now I'm dead and he won't know where to find me—
The Camaro suddenly chirps as the doors unlock.
I clamp my hands over my mouth, suddenly terrified that Earl can somehow hear my heavy breathing over the freezer's motor.
Another long pause follows, then the driver's side door squeaks open and shut. The sound sends an unwelcome wave of nostalgia roiling through me. Dad and I never could seem to figure out how to fix those squealing hinges.
An engine roars to life, and tires crunch on the pavement as Earl exits the parking lot, but I don’t move until the sound fades down the road.
Even then, I remain crouched with my hands still clamped over my lips, afraid that this is some trick. That he parked nearby and is waiting for me to crawl out so he can finish the job.
Mary must have the same idea, because it takes a very long time for her to come outside. “Benji?”
Her whisper hardly carries on the wind.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I stay silent, throat still too clogged with fear to respond.
“Benji, dear, is that you?”
I take a few extra seconds to calm my heartbeat before rising to peek out from behind the freezer. “Hi, Miss Mary.”
The older woman stands just outside the doorway with one hand pressed to her chest, gray hair frazzled. All the color has drained from her skin. “Sweet baby Jesus.”
