Famished - Meghan O'Flynn (learn to read books TXT) 📗

When I opened the door to my apartment, the first thing I saw was the box. Jake’s box, brown and sad and lonely. Forgotten. That seemed the worst kind of slight. The air itself seemed itchy like someone was picking at my skin.

“Hannah?” Dominic set a stack of pre-folded boxes against the dining table and straightened. His khakis matched the boxes. His sweater brought out the subtle flecks of gray in his eyes. I wondered if he’d done that on purpose.

“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking I should bring that box to Jake’s mother.”

“I’ll have it sent.” His eyes scanned the kitchen and the living room beyond. “You’ve had company.”

I followed his gaze to the kitchen, where white powder dusted the cabinets. Two of the upper doors still hung open. By the fridge, a piece of blue tape clung to the countertop.

“They were already in here right after Jake died,” I said uncertainly. They must have come back for…something. What had they been looking for that they didn’t find the first time?

I scratched at my arm, too hard, but stopped short of drawing blood. Maybe they knew my father was after me. Maybe they knew he’d killed Jake. Maybe they’d be back to arrest me any day. I stared at Jake’s box and tried to avoid retching.

“I’m sure it’s just routine. I heard the FBI is taking over the case, so I bet they’re double-checking everything.”

Of course. It wasn’t all about me, was it? I was as narcissistic as the world’s most irritatingly self-centered rappers. Maybe I’d even name my child after a direction in honor of the kid’s importance, so whenever anyone said, “Go left,” I could hear, “Go, Left!” and rejoice in the universe’s unrelenting support of my child.

“I’ll take this box to the car and let you get started up here.”

“You’re leaving?” But you’re supposed to protect me!

“I’m walking to the car, Hannah. I’ll be right back.”

“But—”

He closed the distance between us and hugged me tightly to him. “Everything is fine. You haven’t even been here in three days. No one is crouching in a closet waiting for you to show up.”

Something in my chest writhed and tightened around my lungs.

“Have I steered you wrong yet?” He let me go and peered down at me. “Have I done anything inappropriate or even remotely dangerous?”

Inappropriate. I took a deep breath and could almost feel it crackle over my dry tongue like winds across a desert. Was sleeping with me inappropriate? If so, I wished he’d been more inappropriate. The past three nights I had slept snuggled against his back, and he hadn’t even tried to touch me. Why doesn’t he want me anymore? Maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe he realized that he had been a total dolt bringing some strange girl home with him. Or maybe the sex just hadn’t been as good for him as it had been for me, and he loathed to repeat it.

And yet, sleeping next to him, I had felt safer than I had in years. Tammy would be thrilled at the change reflected in my sleep journal. I’d even occasionally wondered if all my fears had just been me being crazy about nothing. Maybe the man in the parking lot had just been someone trying to steal my car stereo, as Dominic had suggested. This possibility did seem more likely than my father showing up at the shelter. Too much coincidence. And if they thought the killings were related to dear old dad, wouldn’t the police have called me to get some information on him? As Dominic said all the time, logic ruled. I wondered if Dominic would kick me out if I decided to stay in town after all. Maybe he’d kick me out just for being nuts.

“Hannah? Do you trust me?”

I swallowed. Nodded.

“Good.” He hoisted the box to his shoulder. “I’ll be right back to help you finish, and we’ll go out to lunch after. I know a great Italian place.”

I watched him go, licked my parched lips, and tossed an empty box onto the kitchen floor. Plates and bowls. Silverware. Cups. Some got wrapped in paper towels. I picked up Jake’s favorite mug, the one he had always chugged beer out of while I cleaned the kitchen. I left it on the counter. Noelle would have thrown it in the trash. Noelle. I should call her.

The door clanked, and packing tape squeaked.

He came back!

Of course, he came back.

“I’ll set these next ones up and secure the bottoms,” Dominic said, unfolding a box. “I’ll tape that one when you’re done.”

“It’s done.” I pushed the box toward the door, and Dominic taped it shut. “Thanks.”

One box of choice items was enough for the living room, too. In the bedroom, I stared at the dresser drawers, sighed, and upended one after another into a cardboard box before turning my attention to the bedside tables.

The bed hulked in the middle of the room, a reminder of things I didn’t want to think about—and much closer to the dresser than I remembered. It was like the room had gotten smaller, collapsing in on itself now that the world was missing Jake’s energy. But I wasn’t sure I missed him. I took his pillow from the bed, put it to my nose, and inhaled the faintest trace of cigarettes. I threw it against the wall.

Footsteps approached, but there was no menacing squeal of rubber, like that which accompanied the shoes my father wore, only the soft clack of moneyed leather.

The tension drained from my neck. I flipped the cardboard box closed. “Last one.”

He scooped it up in one arm. “I can send someone for the furniture.”

“Don’t bother.”

“Are you sure?”

It won’t fit in my car anyway. “Too many memories.”

I followed him to the front door and down the stairs, calling quiet goodbyes to my life here; the hallway, the stairwell, the smell of socks and putrid onions.

“Did you want to invite some of your friends to lunch? You haven’t seen anyone in the last few days.”

My toe caught on a stair. I righted myself on the railing.

“Are you okay?” Dominic stopped and turned back, the barest of smirks on his beautiful mouth.

“I’m fine. And no, I don’t want to call anyone. They won’t even miss me yet.”

He started back down, shoes lightly smacking the stairs. “I just want to make sure you’re staying in because you want to and not because you’re frightened. I’m sure Noelle misses you.”

“Maybe.” My face heated. “Lately, I haven’t wanted to hang out with her.”

“Why?”

Because I suspected her of screwing my dead boyfriend, and now I feel guilty. “I—I’m not sure.”

“I see.”

He shifted the box to his shoulder and held the lobby door for me. The room was barely brighter than the stairwell, dust particles playing in a beam of sunlight that shone through the tiny window.

“I find being around people is helpful during trying times,” he said. Tammy said things like that too, but the words felt different coming from Dominic. Almost…believable.

I glanced at the mailboxes, ominous and dark, and remembered the letter. That girl. Jake had probably been thrilled every time I left. Maybe Dominic wants me to go out, too. “Do you want me to make plans to get me out of the house?”

“Of course not. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay home all the time.” He smiled, and I forgot the mailboxes.

“Okay. But just so you know, I don’t usually make big plans. The only thing I did on a regular basis was volunteer, and I can’t go back there.”

“The place where he tried to get into your car?”

“Yes.”

“You think he’d be brazen enough to do it again?”

“I… Maybe.”

“I can hire someone.”

“Hire someone?”

“To check the lot. Or to drive you. Either way, you can’t let fear hold you back. And it’s not too late to call the police.”

I shook my head. “No. Thanks, but no.”

He opened the door to the