Page 47 of When Sinners Fear
“I’m thinking.” It’s the truth.
We pull up to the big gates that shield Knox’s house away. I’d have thought the place was over the top if I’d visited before. Now, they provide a sense of reassurance I never thought I’d need.
He parks on the drive and heads up to the house without looking back. As soon as the door’s shut and locked behind us, I let out a breath. He glances towards me and holds my stare before stalking off to the living room.
“Is the doctor visiting tonight?”
“Yes.”
“To change your bandages?”
“Probably.”
“Your fever’s broken?” I start running off questions to try keeping my mind busy. It was only a couple of days ago that I thought he would die. That was such a vivid fear for me, and I want to make sure that there’s no chance of anything bad happening now. “And you’re urinating?” My mind was made up that I’d fight and live as long as he was alive, but as soon as his chest stopped rising, that changed the tables for me. That fear still lingers. Especially now with him still holding the door frame for support and moving so slowly.
“Peyton, shut the hell up.” He slams the door behind him, and I’m left out in the hall.
I’m sure his angered tone is mostly because he wanted me gone tonight and is annoyed I’m still here. He’s shown me time and time again how cruel he can be, but I know there’s more than that to him. Maybe he’s over-exerted himself. Quite possibly.
I head to the kitchen. It’s becoming my favourite room in the house. It’s light in the morning, and it makes me feel homey, despite the rest of the house’s dark interior. The quiet and peacefulness of the house should be reassuring and calming, but there’s something I’m still uneasy about.
The deck stretches out past the glass doors, and the silhouettes of the trees dance in the shadows as the darkness of the evening sets in. My rational brain says it’s safe. I trust what Knox says, but my mind still conjures images of men emerging from the dark.
Squeezing my eyes shut to make them disappear, I turn away from the glass and look around the kitchen, eventually making hot lemon and honey. Caffeine won’t help my mind at this hour.
My next task is to find a phone. I suck in a deep breath and go back towards the living room doors. I gently knock and crack the door.
“Knox, can I use your phone?” He’s sitting on the couch, his head tilted back on the cushions, a glass of whiskey in his hand, but his eyes don’t open to look at me.
“Why?”
I frown. “My parents … I–”
“Sure.”
“Do you have a landline?”
“Study. Down the hall and to the right.”
I pull the door closed and go in search.
The study is easy to find, and I happily take in the details of the room. It’s neat and clean. The desk dominates the room, but it’s not new. It looks like an antique, full of age and beauty. I look to the wall, hoping to find his degrees, but they aren’t there.
There’s an itch to explore, to try to figure out the man who seems like he could be Jekyll and Hyde, but there’s a call I have to make.
Picking up the phone, I dial the home number I’ve had my whole life. My heart pounds in my chest, and I have to fight the desire to slam the receiver down, but I owe some peace to my parents.
The line connects, and I listen for the rings. One, two…
“Hello?” My mother’s voice is eager and hopeful, all in that one word.
My eyes squeeze shut, and I clasp my hand over my mouth to stifle the sob that wants to escape. I take a deep breath in through my nose and wrestle with my emotions.
“Mom, it’s me.”
“Peyton? Oh, dear Lord, thank heavens. Where have you been? We’ve been so worried. The police –” she pauses, and I can hear her coughing in the background and fighting to get her own breathing under control. The wheezing sound is loud even over the line, and it spears me with a new shard of guilt. She didn’t sound that bad before, and I can only imagine the additional strain this has put on her health.
It does offer me a little ray of justification for my decision not just to run home – not yet. If she saw me now, she’d be able to put the pieces of my ordeal together and make herself worse.