Weaving In The Ends by K. M. Herkes

Author:K. M. Herkes [Herkes, K. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Dawnrigger Publishing

6

Evening, November 22

CARL PACED THE SPIRAL path to the center of Justin’s whimsical excuse for a research laboratory and hid there until the others were safely gone. Then he went outside to stretch his legs, only to be reminded that he couldn’t escape himself.

The train of thought circling around his brain was driven by the phrase You are a monster. Self-recrimination hurtled back and forth past resentful points of interest like Why can’t people leave me alone?

Motion usually bolstered the illusion of self-control, but the longer he walked today, the more desperate he felt. His path around the property took him off the heights and through creek bottoms lined with bare cottonwoods, but the mire in his mind was worse than the mud he slogged through.

He should’ve pushed Naomi harder long ago and done whatever it took to send her running after Parker. He would’ve had to be inhumanly brutal to get past that need-to-help streak of hers, but it would’ve prevented this catastrophe.

He’d enjoyed knowing Felicity was safe, protected, distant. He’d pretended to believe he might eventually go looking for her the way he’d once wanted. Now that comfort was gone, ripped away by a twist of misguided good intentions.

He couldn’t blame Naomi. He couldn’t blame Felicity. He could only blame himself, and he had fled because otherwise he would’ve said horrible unforgivable things.

Coward. If you’d said them, then she would be gone now. She would be safely beyond your reach, but you said nothing. That thought stepped out in front of the express self-recrimination train and derailed it. He’d run instead of lashing out. Why?

Because unlike Naomi, she wouldn’t bruise if you hit her with your worst. Felicity could take any punch you throw and turn it back against you. You didn’t attack because she might be strong enough to pull you out of this. The idea of living terrifies you. That realization was a stinging slap of insight, and the shock woke up his intellect at long last.

Long shadows stretched out in front of him as he came up the graveled drive to the house and climbed the steps to the front porch. He paused to remove his coat and boots in the mud room off the front hall.

Light shone down the front stairs from the second floor into the parlor and den, gilding the soft fabric tops of chairs and reflecting from lacquered wood tables. Rosy sunset filled the windows, and indicator lights glowed in sleepy readiness along the bottom of the entertainment wall. The formal dining area on the other side of the hall was in full darkness, table and chairs silhouetted in the dim illumination that crept under a service door to the kitchen at the back.

The aroma of browned garlic floated in the air, and voices rose and fell from the rear of the house. Carl’s stomach knotted, but he fought down the impulse to retreat into the night and never come back.

He eased open the door at the end of the hall, leaned to peer through the gap into the kitchen.

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