“Wait,” he tells me, trying to wriggle free as soon as he sees the glint of the blade, and I have to say, I’m impressed that he does manage to make at least some progress. Good sign for him. And for me, I guess, if I really don’t want his name on my list. “Don’t do this—don’t—”
He stops begging when I reach forward and cut the rope tying him to Helios, letting it fall into the dirt like a rattlesnake before calmly setting the knife on his chest.
“You can’t leave me out here,” he calls after me when I begin to walk away, his voice echoing out into the stretches of empty plains on both sides. “You can’t leave me to die.”
“Not leaving you to die,” I tell him as I swing up into the saddle. “I’m just leaving you. Whether you die or not is up to you. And God, I suppose, if he’s interested.”
“Wait—”
I click my tongue at Helios, taking in a deep breath as I guide us toward the right direction while the man continues to offer me bargain after bargain. None of them the least bit appealing, none of them enough to make me look back.
By the time I make it back to the house, the moon is already high overhead, and though I’m tired down to my soul after getting Helios settled into his stall, I don’t have my mind on sleep yet. Not tonight. Instead, I’m moving with a sense of purpose, so completely focused on it that I don’t notice the person sitting on the porch waiting for me.
“Good evening, Aiden,” calls out a soft voice once I’m already on the steps, making me jump before I see Dolly watching me from a rocker that appears as ancient as she is, a well-loved book and a lantern on the table beside her. “Eventful night?”
“You have to be related to him,” I say again as I put my hands on my knees and try to steady my heart rate before she starts waving a hand at me as a signal for me to hurry up. She pushes to her feet, both the chair and her bones creaking from the effort.
“Come on in. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Ma’am, it’s late. You don’t have to go to the trouble. I’ll be fine with—”
“I’m not out here in the middle of the night for my health,” she interrupts, prodding me in the side with her cane to move me along as soon as I’m within range. “Go on now. Besides, the food is only an excuse to make you stay still while I talk at you.”
“Not sure the trade is worth it,” I grumble, trying to evade the woman’s continued jabs with her damn stick, as well as the swing she takes at my head with her other hand. Given that she is about half my height, the hit lands in the middle of my back.
“Sit,” she orders, satisfied once she manages to successfully herd me into a chair in the kitchen. “Always such a grouch,” she mutters, the ruckus she starts making with her pots and pans somehow still not chasing my exhaustion away. “Really must be your good looks that he likes so much.”
I arch an eyebrow at her, but she only laughs at me. “I’m old. Not blind.” She turns toward the stove, heating up what appears to be a vegetable soup she made earlier this evening. “And I have known Cypress a long time. Never seen him so smitten.”
“That’s not…” I start to say, shifting in my seat. “Cypress issmittenwith everyone.”
“Given what you saw tonight, Iknowyou know that’s not true.” Her head tilts as she takes me in. “You sure it was smart to leave one of them alive?” When I give her a surprised glance, she chuckles again. “Nothing happens around here that I don’t know about.”
“Cypress told you,” I guess. “Never does keep his mouth shut.”
“He hasn’t been back yet to tell me. But as I said, I’m not blind. Neither of you came downstairs again, and you’re arriving separately, which means you had different affairs to attend to. I’m also missingtworugs—which the two of youwillbe replacing. One would have been suitable if they were both dead, but they also can’t both be alive based on the blood stain you tried to hide under that trunk. Let me guess, you went out the window and Cypress tossed each of them down like a rolled-upnewspaper?”
“Or a cigarette,” I mutter, impressed by how much she’d put together until my mind finally catches on the first thing she’d said. “Wait, what do you mean he’s not back?” I start to stand. “I left him hours ago.”
“Youmight have.” She stares pointedly at my chair, and I sit again. “Doesn’t mean he left you. Probably went looking for you as soon as he was done. Seems to prefer to be wherever you are, regardless of whether or not you’re aware of it.”
I lean forward in the chair, resting my elbows on my knees as I stare at the floor, not especially surprised by this observation even as I ask, “You’re saying—”
“I’m saying he doesn’t like to let you get too far out of his sight. As I said,smitten.” She smirks, gives the soup a stir. “It’s about time. He’s been alone for too long. I’d wager you have been as well.”
“I’ve been fine on my own,” I argue.
“No one is fine on their own,” she counters with a dismissive laugh. “And you both ought to stop pretending like you are.” She looks back at me, smiling wryly. “He’ll be good for you, too, I think. Need someone to give you a bit of trouble.”
“Already have had plenty,” I tell her, certain on that at least. “No need for more.”
She’s quiet for a moment as she finishes heating up the food and spooning it into a couple red clay bowls. For that empty span of time, I’m foolish enough to think that she’ll drop the subject altogether. Even more foolish to realize I don’t entirely want her to.
“He’s a good boy, you know,” she says at last, giving me an appreciative smile when I get up to carry the bowls to the table. “Far better than he ought to be.”
“That so?” I ask, setting her bowl then mine in place at the table before I pull out her chair and wait for her to sit, hermovements with her cane stiffer with the late hour. She must be tired, maybe even more than me. “I found yourgoodboy with two men tied up tonight.”
“Only two?” She looks up at me as she settles herself and lets me push her chair in. “A slow night for him.”