10. Now It’s Personal

10

Now It's Personal

T he clanks of pots and pans from downstairs remind me of the thin structure of Granny's walls. Growing up, there was no such thing as sleeping in on a Saturday, and it seems that sentiment rings true even now. I can't tell if it's just how Granny operates in the kitchen or if it's an attempt to wake me up. I suspect the latter.

I groan and roll onto my back, staring up at my popcorn ceiling, catching the evidence of my childhood glow-in-the-dark stars. I barely slept and don't have to look into a mirror to imagine how completely exhausted I appear.

Jack dropped me off at Granny's last night like a perfect gentleman, the asshole. He left me with a soft kiss and a promise that he'd take me to the site of the attacks tomorrow to pick up my car and fill me in on what he knows. I doubt he'll be a hundred percent truthful at first, but it's a start.

I'm not the type of gal to use my body to get what I want, but I have a creeping suspicion that the more I put out with Jack, the more he'll tell me. I must admit the thought of him draped over my body, pumping into me, makes my toes curl, and I guess I get to have my cake and eat it, too.

It's more than just sex, though. My mind's been a whirling mess since his confession last night. Although I've spent years hardening my heart to him, rationalizing why he did what he did in the worst way possible, I can't help but admit his confession of love did something to me. If I do sleep with him, it will be messier than just a fling.

Then there's everything that happened with my near attack of that beast in the woods and Cameron showing up. Could that beast have been the one that killed all those people? If so, why did it run away when Cameron showed up? Maybe what he said is true, and he does chain them up in his little house in the woods. Maybe Cameron's the scariest beast in the woods, and if that's the case, he definitely knows more than he's leading on. Couple that with Jack not wanting me to go near him. I have half a mind to walk back to Cameron's place to find out what he very clearly knows.

"Red, I made pancakes!" Granny yells from downstairs.

I groan and leave bed, grabbing my phone off my bedside table to catch the time. It's only seven a.m. I love Granny, but I need to wrap up this story so I can get the hell out of here. I might die of exhaustion if I stay any longer.

I drag my feet down the rickety stairs. Granny's placing the stack of steamy pancakes in the center of the wooden table as she looks up at me. "Boy, do you look like shit."

"Granny!" I plop in my usual chair, reaching for the pitcher containing the steaming black liquid that will hopefully bring me back to life.

"You must have had a rough night." She winks, and her lips snap into a devilish smirk.

"Granny! Cut me a break," I say in between my embarrassed grin.

Granny settles into her chair and pours herself a glass of orange juice. "I heard you come home late. I'm not sure how you two separated after dinner, but I guess him picking you up went well?" She brings her glass to her lips, and her eyes sparkle. I called her from Cameron's last night. She obviously knows that the dinner plans took a turn, but I bet she's still holding out that something happened between Jack and me. I mean, she's not entirely wrong.

I think for a moment, looking up at the string of imaginary thoughts laid out before me. "Actually, it went horrible."

Granny's face droops. "Oh, no, what happened?"

"Let me see, well, I walked out on Jack at the diner, went to the site of the attacks in a rainstorm, almost got eaten by some wild animal, met this asshole who kind of saved me, lost my keys, went back to the asshole's house to discover his torture chamber, relieved my past with Jack, and got interrogated by the police. Yep. Pretty shitty night if you ask me."

Granny sighs and shakes her head. "So, are you seeing Jack again? You look in need of a good shag!"

"Granny!" I screech. "Is that really what you care about after everything I just said?" I shake my head and stuff my mouth with a forkful of chocolate chip pancakes. The fluffy texture and the smoothness of the chocolate are enough to bring my sour mood a little sweeter, even with Granny's obliviousness.

Granny shrugs. "I've always liked Jack. He comes from a good family, and you two have always been so close."

"You know what happened between us at graduation." Of course, when I came home crying that night, I told Granny everything. The earthquake's magnitude overshadowed the details of my heartbreak, so maybe she forgot.

"Yes, but that was so long ago, and I think you might have got it wrong. You know he's never stopped asking about you since you left?"

"Yes, Granny. You do like to mention that on every phone call." I put down my utensils. "Why do you want me to be with Jack so bad?" I get that she thinks he's attractive; it's plain to anyone with eyes, but is that really enough to have her care so much after all these years?

She sighs. "Isn't it obvious? If you guys were together, you'd be here more. I think he's a good guy, but I miss you, Red." Tears form in the corner of her eyes.

All of my bitterness from my tiredness and Granny's annoying questions melt away. I reach out and grab her frail hand. "Granny, I'm so sorry. I know I should visit more. It's just been crazy ever since I left for college. Now, this job takes so much of my time, but if I finish this story, it could lead to a promotion. That would mean I'd get more time off." I'm bullshitting. I'd never want to take time off, even if I hope otherwise.

Granny puts her hand over mine and shakes her head. "That's nice, dear. I've always wanted you to follow your dreams, but I want you with me. You're all I have since your parents' deaths. "

The mention of my parents heavies my nerves. Granny never talks about my parents' murders. Of course, growing up, I had questions. I was a future investigator journalist, so the need to learn more was inherent, but Granny just told me it was a robbery gone bad while I was at school. The person who committed the murders was never convicted because they were later found dead in their home.

I didn't just take Granny's word for it. My middle school years were spent in the school library looking up everything I could about the murders, but I soon realized nothing was left untouched in their case. The man who murdered them was a poor, crazy man who lived in the woods alone. They believe that he died of a bear attack.

Bear attack.

The trail of my thoughts leads me to a part of my memory that I haven't touched in years. What are the odds that an animal attack also killed the person who murdered my parents? I grew up in this town, and it wasn't like animal attacks were common.

"Granny, did you ever think it was odd that an animal killed Mom and Dad's murderer, and then all these people in the clearing were also killed by an animal?"

She sips her coffee, her face morphing blank—her eyes dead. She shakes her head. "Such a tragedy."

It's not an answer. If anything, she's avoiding my question. Growing up, whenever I brought up my parent's death, it was like a flip switch, and Granny became a hollow porcelain doll. Everyone experiences grief differently, and this must be her coping. Maybe things are more connected, and it will make my parent's death make more sense. Maybe finding out about these attacks will bring Granny closure.

I stand, wiping my hands on the flannel napkin. "Well, I better start getting ready. I have another date with Jack soon."

Granny's expression perks. "Oh, goody!"

I head back up to my room to change, my mind racing. Everything seems to grow more mysterious with these attacks: the police not taking it seriously, Jack's avoidance, the beast in the woods, Cameron's presence, and the similarities involving my parents. I don't think I'm here just for work anymore. This story just got a lot more personal.