Charlaine Harris - 12 Deadlocked by Charlaine Harris

Author:Charlaine Harris
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-09-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

An hour after Bubba left, and just after I’d finally gone to sleep, my phone rang.

“Are you all right?” Eric’s voice sounded strange; hoarse, almost.

“Yes,” I said. “She was very rational.”

“She … that’s what she told me. And Bubba told Pam you were all right.”

So he’d talked to Freyda, presumably in person. And he’d taken Bubba’s secondhand word that I was fine; so therefore, he hadn’t been as quick to call me as he would have been if there’d been doubt in his mind. A lot of information conveyed in two short sentences.

“No,” I agreed. “No violence.” I’d lain alone in the darkness, my eyes wide open, for a long time. I’d been sure Eric would arrive at any moment, desperate to make sure I hadn’t been hurt.

I was controlling myself with my last bit of self-respect.

“She won’t win,” Eric said. He sounded confident, passionate— everything I might have hoped would be reassuring.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes, my lover. I’m sure.”

“But you’re not here,” I observed, and I hung up very gently.

He didn’t call back.

I slept between three and six, I think, and woke up to a summer day that mocked me by being beautiful. The downpour had washed everything, cooled the air, and renewed the green of the grass and the trees. The delicate pink of the old crepe myrtle was unfurling. The cannas would be open soon.

I felt like Hell hungover.

While the coffeepot did its work, I slumped at the kitchen table, my head in my hands. I remembered—too vividly—sliding into a dark depression when I understood that Bill, my first-ever boyfriend and lover, had left me.

This was not quite as bad; that had been the first time, this was the second. I’d had other kinds of losses during the same time period. Loved ones, friends, acquaintances had been mown down by the Grim Reaper. So I was no stranger to loss and to change, and these experiences had taught me something.

But today was bad enough, and I could think of nothing to look forward to.

Somehow I had to pull out of this state of unhappiness. I couldn’t struggle through many days like this.

Seeing my little cousin Hunter would make me happy. Smiling in anticipation, I had already put my hand on the phone to call his dad before I realized what a criminal mistake inviting Hunter over would be. The child was a telepath like me, and he would read my misery like a book … a terrible situation for Hunter.

I tried to think of another good thing to anticipate. Tara would be coming home from the hospital today, and I should cook a meal for her. I tried to summon the energy to plan that, but I came up with nothing. Okay, save that for later. I cast around for other pleasant ideas, but nothing took a grip on my black mood to loosen its hold on me.

When I’d exhausted my fund of self-pity by brooding on my untenable situation with Eric, I thought I should focus on the death that had precipitated the current crisis, at least in part.

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