Read Online Down the Darkest Street by Alex Segura - Free Book Online Page B

putting the items away. Pete followed her.
    “Thanks for the groceries,” he said.
    “You’re welcome,” she said. “I got a few things before I met Susan.”
    “You’re pissed.”
    “Yes, Peter. I am pissed.”
    She never called him Peter, he thought, unless she was reaching a level of angry no one really wanted to experience.
    “What was I supposed to do, kick him out?”
    She looked up from the fridge, her eyes dull and red.
    “I don’t want to have this discussion,” she said.
    “So, we just forget this happened and avoid each other for a little bit, hoping that things go back to normal?” Pete said. “Just like old times?”
    Emily closed the fridge door with a little too much force.
    “This is not ‘just like old times,’” she said. “You know that. It can never be that way again. You’re letting me stay here for a bit, and I appreciate that. I just need some time to think about what to do next, and it doesn’t help to come home to find your two most recent exes having a confab about you, one of their mistresses, and who’s more deserving of your affection. Such macho, stupid bullshit.”
    “He’s being questioned about this girl’s disappearance.”
    “Alice? You can say her name. I won’t go into convulsions.”
    “Yes, Alice,” Pete said.
    “So, they think he did it?”
    “They’re questioning him, at the very least,” Pete said. “And I doubt his visit to me is going to earn him any points with them.”
    “Wonderful,” she said. “Fucking wonderful.”
    She sped past Pete and headed toward the guest room, which was across the hall from the kitchen. She closed the door with a slam.
    He decided against prolonging the discussion. He walked back to the kitchen and slowly put away the rest of the groceries. After a few minutes he was done, and exhaustion overtook him. He walked back into the living room, picked his gun off the table, and made sure the safety was on. He stood by the dining room table and scanned the house. The liquor cabinets were empty. That’s where his mind went now, he thought. Always to what was missing. What he couldn’t have anymore. He pushed the thought away and put the gun on the small table by the front door. He walked down the main hall toward his bedroom, pulling his T-shirt off as he closed the door behind him. He threw his jeans into a corner. He didn’t bother to turn on the light. He knew where every book was, where every piece of furniture jutted out. Costello mewed in frustration as Pete fell onto the bed.
    His life had become a collection of ghosts from his past mingling with the detritus of his present with a dash of nostalgia and regret. He slid under the covers and fell asleep.
    He didn’t hear her come into the room at first, but the light from the hallway woke him up. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed. The cat was gone, probably distracted by a bird or sound. She slid in bed next to him, sniffling to herself, trying to keep it down. Pete was on his back. He felt her leg loop over him and she was on top, her breath hot on his face as she leaned in to him, grinding her body onto his. He reacted. He remembered her. Them. His hand reached for her sides as his mouth found hers and for a split second they were back—back to a time when this was normal and what they both wanted. Pete pulled away from the kiss and tried to look at Emily’s face in the darkness.
    “What are you doing?”
    “Don’t talk,” she said, almost pleading. “I just need to feel something, OK?”
    Pete didn’t respond. She slid her nightgown off and tossed it near his dresser, and any chance of this stopping went away. She leaned back in to Pete, her body warm on his as he guided his hands up her back, cautiously at first, as if it could stop at any moment—then with more abandon.
    Responding to his hungry hands, she reached for him, pulling his boxers down and off the bed. They kissed—bumping into each other, getting reacquainted with their movements,