Tales of Darkness & Sin - Pepper Winters Page 0,12
twenty feet apart, and I’ve seen a truck in the driveway often, but no sight of who’s actually living next door. And yet, the hair on the back of my neck stands up every time I look at that place. I just can’t figure out why.
“Were you even in love with him anymore?” Val asks.
“Huh?”
“Scott,” she prods. “Did you really want to marry him?”
“Honestly?” I blow out a breath. “I don’t know. I thought I did, but now that he’s out of my life, I’m not even sad about it. I just feel humiliated and betrayed.”
“You want to know what I think?” she murmurs.
“Not really.”
“Don’t be a bitch.” She laughs. “You just hate it when I tell it like it is. Someone in your life needs to.”
“Fine.” I keep my gaze on the house next door. The TV comes on, the faint sounds of an action movie playing inside. “Tell me what you think.”
“I think your entire life has been one big dog and pony show. You’ve always put so much pressure on yourself to live up to everyone else’s expectations. The perfect cheerleader. The perfect body. The perfect clothes and footballer jock boyfriend, even if he was a total douchebag.”
“Hey!” I gripe. “He wasn’t always that bad.”
“Yes, he was. Don’t you remember in high school how he used to torment anyone who even looked twice at you? You were always just a possession to him. A trophy.”
“Yeah, okay. Obviously, I’ve figured that out, and I’ve made some mistakes. But my life isn’t so bad.”
“Your life is glamorous as hell,” Val remarks dryly. “At least, that’s how it seems to everyone on the outside looking in. But are you even happy? Have you ever been?”
Her question feels like salt in an already raw wound. And it’s something I’ve thought about a lot since my life imploded six weeks ago. But I can’t admit it just yet. Because without the illusion I’ve created, I don’t know what’s left.
“Just give it some thought,” she says.
“Thanks.” I finish off my wine and set it aside. “I’ll do that.”
“How are you liking the new place?”
“I like it.” I shrug. “But it’s strange living alone in a new town.”
“Strange how?”
“I don’t know.” I lean back and close my eyes. “Something just feels a little off. I can’t explain it. All week, I’ve had this weird feeling like someone’s watching me. I’m probably just being paranoid.”
“Do you think it’s Scott?” She sounds alarmed.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “It could be, but I haven’t seen him around since I threatened to mace his ass.”
Val chuckles under her breath. “Well, if you ever feel unsafe just call me. I’m only twenty minutes away. We can have a pajama party at your new place.”
“That sounds really nice.” I smile through the phone. “Maybe once I get everything unpacked.”
“It’s a date,” she says. “Now go get some sleep. You sound exhausted.”
I tell her that I will and then disconnect the call, but instead of going inside, I stay out on the back patio until the chill of the plummeting temperature bites into my skin.
The lights in the house next door have since gone out, and the whole neighborhood is quiet and still. But when I glance up at the neighbor’s window, my breath catches in my chest.
Either I’m really losing my mind, or I just caught him watching me from his bedroom.
CHAPTER THREE
Tuesday
Zander
“Here, kitty, kitty.”
It’s not long before I have the Bengal cat in my arms, purring away.
I give her a treat for her cooperation and stroke her rusty colored fur. “Good girl.”
A moment later, I shoot my gaze toward Violet’s house where I catch her pacing the wooden floors, her panic rising by the second.
“Nutmeg,” she calls out, opening the front door. “Baby, where are you?”
She looks around the porch, checking every nook and cranny. “Nutmeg?”
Fear mixed with desperation is practically coming off her in waves.
Time to make my move.
Pasting a look of concern on my face, I amble up her driveway with the cat in my arms.
Her back is turned to me when I approach.
“Is this your cat?”
She jumps, her hand flying to her heart as she turns around.
“Oh my God.” Almost immediately, her gaze falls on Nutmeg. “There you are.”
I hand over the little furball. “I found her on my porch.” Shrugging, I jut my chin toward my house. “I live right next door. Poor thing must have gotten confused.”
Her chest is still heaving, and I find myself grateful for the drop in temperature when I see