She talks to that grave, saying she’s sorry she failed me. Lindy suffered a loss trying to save me, but puts flowers on my grave every year. He didn’t just silence her he ruined her. Music grows louder, the sounds permeating the air with no concern for the screams they’re trying to drown out. “I’ll teach that bitch a lesson later,” Kyle mutters under his breath.ĭev starts pushing Lindy away, practically carrying her as she screams for me. The FBI didn’t give a damn about their father, did they?” Kyle taunts, smirking.ĭev holds her back, his face grim as she struggles to get to me. She was five years older than me the night they robbed me of everything. Lindy suffered a terrible fate because of that. Both of whom tried to seek justice for me. Lindy May’s house comes into view, and I debate this for a few minutes. My grip tightens on the steering wheel, wishing I’d cut that dick off and sewn it into his mouth. But my name is Laurel,” she says around a yawn, leaning against the window. “What’s your name?” I ask the girl who is relaxing more by the minute. She’s one person who can see a ghost but not flinch. I don’t say anything else as I drive toward Lindy May’s house. “You really are an angel,” she says at last, causing my heart to flip. She studies me for a long time, more tears building in her eyes. She pushes her dirty hair out of her eyes.

“I have a friend-a woman-I knew in another life. I jog around to the driver’s side, a risky plan forming. She lets me help her to my car, and she slides in on the passenger side, tears already leaking from her eyes.

When she stumbles, I grab her, and she doesn’t flinch away. She nods, and even though she’s terrified, she comes to me, ready to face anything terrible I could do versus anything he could come back and do more of. I’m going to take you somewhere you’ll be safe.”

“Do you know if he has anyone else?” I ask her, knowing he swore it was just her, but it could be more. “Are you an angel?” she asks, her throat raw and raspy, as though she’s dehydrated. The shaking slowly stops as she peers at me, her eyes wide and hopeful. “I’m here to save you from the monster,” I say softly into the dark shed. Scared eyes meet mine from the kid huddled in the corner. I open the door, and hear a scurrying of motion. Warm and toasty in my clean, dry clothes, I drive back to the drop spot, making one detour.Īn old woodshed is twenty miles down the road, resting on private hunting ground. His nail will go beside the others, finding a home with other perverted sons of bitches.

Sidetracked by S.T. Abby