Fuck this.
I step in front of Cormac. “Keep staring at my man like that, and I’ll make sure you meet your God sooner than later.”
She backs up, clearly sensing the threat.
I grab hold of Cormac, moving with a purpose to the checkout. “Let’s get out of here before I kill someone.”
This time there’s no disguising the deep laugh that comes out of him. His booming voice causes all the women in the store to look in his direction.
On the way to the cash register I pick up four bags of fun-sized candy. I don’t even look at which ones they are. It’s ten dollars a bag, and they are heavy. I still haven’t broached the subject of allowing trick-or-treaters up for Halloween, but I’m hoping I can get Cormac on board.
When we get to the cash register with our things, the same employee who helped us with the statue is checking us out. She’s flustered and keeps making mistakes. She can’t keep her eyes off Cormac.
“For the love of Christ.” I grumble, tapping my foot, suddenly thinking this was not such a very good idea.
Cormac notices my uneasiness, and I look back at him. When he sees the annoyance all over my face, he starts to laugh again. A laugh that changes his whole face. The joy piercing those dark eyes and making him seem lighter.
I want to be mad, but I can’t. It’s not every day I can watch the broken man that I’ve grown accustomed to change into a different person piece by piece.
13
CORMAC
It wasn’t asbad as I thought it was going to be.
Surprisingly.
When Brenna darted out of the car and into the Halloween store, I was nearly frozen with fear, as much as I don’t want to admit it.
There were so many people, both on the street making their way other places and in the store itself.
Dozens of people.
Dozens of threats.
I know she doesn’t understand why I don’t like to go out, but I wasn’t expecting her to test my word.
The surprising part of it, I guess, was the fact that even though everywhere I looked I could see a threat, a shadow lurking in the corner, a trap, nothing came of it. Instead, it was justthe opposite. The people staring at me didn’t look on me with disdain or fear but curiosity and lust.
I’ve never found myself to be attractive; even as a younger kid, I always thought I looked a little bit too much like my mother. Feminine. But the women in that store were looking at me like they wanted to tie me down and have their way with me.
The only reason I recognized the look was because of how Brenna acted. To see her get jealous was a sight. If I wasn’t keenly aware that she would probably cut a woman’s throat if they got too close to me, I’d have played up on her jealousy a little more.
She doesn’t need to be jealous, though. I don’t care how many women look my way; I’ve only got eyes for Brenna.
Now that we are back in the safety of the mansion, though, I’m starting to see the benefits of actually being able to go out and shop. Or even just to go out and have a good time. Maybe I truly don’t have to worry about what everyone else thinks of me and what I look like. I know I can take care of myself and of Brenna. I can keep myself safe.
I sit back in the large chair in the parlor room, my eyes drifting from the flames in the fireplace over to the large statue we just purchased at the store. I’m sure it doesn’t belong in here, but something about the ghoulish man on the front of the gravestone speaks to me, like it’s a version of myself fighting to be free of the monsters inside.
The fire cracks and pops as if trying to draw my attention back to it. The atmosphere of the house has changed. Little by little, I can feel it in my very soul, almost like it doesn’t have as great of ahold on me anymore. After all these years, it took a force as great as Brenna to help me break free.
I’m not saying I’ll be going on long trips or hikes, but I don’t feel so tethered to the place anymore.
A loud gust of wind howls through the walls, and in the back of my mind I can hear the voice, the same one I’ve tried so hard to ignore. Brenna makes it easier, but the voices never really go away.
“She’ll leave. It’s all a trick. Not real.”
Shutting my eyes tight, I do my best to banish the ghosts. The whispers get louder, and the doubts grow like a bamboo shoot in my gut.
