The Beast on Her Leash novel · Chapter 8 of 24

Chapter 8: The Boathouse

Lyle held the umbrella over himself and looked at the open side door for a long, pleasant moment.

"Fern's idea," he said. "Sentimental woman. Take whatever you like, buddy. It all goes in a dumpster tomorrow."

My hand was flat against my jacket, over the folded invoice.

His eyes passed over me and did not stop, and I think that was the only reason I stayed upright.

"You're white as a sheet, chief," he said to Bram. "Memory lane?"

Bram did not answer.

Lyle smiled at me again, tipped the umbrella, and got back into the SUV.

The taillights slid away along the fence.

Bram drove us home in his truck without a word, with both hands on the wheel and his eyes on the road.

He did not look at me once.

At the boathouse he turned off the engine and sat there, rain ticking on the roof.

"You should go home," he said.

"Is that what you want?"

"It's what's right."

"That's not what I asked."

He closed his eyes.

His jaw worked, and a muscle jumped under the pale beard.

"I can't look at you," he said, hoarse. "I can't tell you why. Not yet. I'm asking you to go."

I thought about the girl in the clipping, and the dispatcher's desk, and the way his face had emptied when he saw the invoice.

I thought that whatever he was carrying, it was heavier than anything I had seen a person hold.

"I'm not leaving," I said. "I'm not asking for the why. I'm going to stay until you say my name again."

His breath shook out of him.

"Willa."

"Good. Inside."

I took the key out of the ignition myself.

Moose met us at the door, took one look at the pair of us, and went to lie on the porch.

Inside, the single lamp made a small yellow room out of the dark.

Bram stood in the middle of it with water running off his hair.

Keep reading free with an account. Start The Beast on Her Leash from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.