Whatever Remains by Lauren Gilley

Author:Lauren Gilley [Gilley, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-07-17T05:00:00+00:00

Ben woke sometime in the shapeless dark to howling. His eyes snapped open in the black and searched in vain for something familiar; his ears strained against the sound. Then it hit him that he was with Jade, in her room, her bed, her back pressed up against his side, warm and smooth and satiny. The howling had become short, staccato barks, and it was coming from downstairs. Jeremy’s dog.

Jade stirred with a soft sound.

“What’s it barking about?” he asked.

“Hmm…? Oh, Keely. Dunno.” She yawned. The sheets rustled and he felt her heel against his calf. “She does that sometimes.” Then silence lapsed and he thought she might have drifted off again.

Ben stared sightlessly at the ceiling a long moment, listening to her breathe. They’d wound up here too many times now for it to feel like a mistake anymore. But it always complicated things. Jade was incapable of coldness; she was passionate in all things, and when he rejected her love, her animosity was fueled by that same passion.

She didn’t wake when he slipped out of bed and fumbled across the floor for his clothes. He found boxers and t-shirt and decided that was good enough for the moment. He’d left his gun on her dresser and he found it by feel, the textured grip in his palm as familiar as his own skin.

There was a nightlight plugged in out in the hall and it silhouetted the top of the stairs. He went down them barefoot, missing the creaky spots. By the time he reached the bottom, the dog was growling – deep-throated and angry – somewhere in the kitchen. Ben slipped in from the back hall; a punched tin lamp with a white shade had been left lit on the counter, and by its light, he could see Keely, hackles raised, standing at the patio door, snarling at whatever she imagined lie on the other side. She tossed a fleeting look at Ben, then whipped back to the door, letting out a howl worthy of the Baskervilles.

A sound behind him – brush of bare feet on the hardwood – caught him off guard. He spun, his .45 finding its way into both hands, ready for an attack. Jeremy stood in the threshold; his hands came up in a defenseless pose, but he didn’t jump. His pajama bottoms were some sort of complicated-looking fabric; his t-shirt may have been ironed at some point given the sharp creases in his sleeves.

“Don’t you think,” he said, “that the dog would have known if Freddy Krueger were already in the house?”

“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to sneak up on a guy with a gun?”

Jeremy twitched a half-smile and reached into his pants pocket, coming back out with a stainless snub-nose .38. Ben let his own arms drop with shock.

“You keep that locked up? Out of reach of Clara?”

“Listen to you.” Jeremy stepped past him and went to the window, peering through the vertical blinds and patting the dog on the head.

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