“Shit,” I muttered. e time on the clock read : a.m. I hadn’t slept in this late since I lived back in Colorado, when animals weren’t depending on me to be fed and watered. e evening before was all a blur. After Grace went to sleep, I went deep into a bottle of whiskey, trying to forget her as I knew she’d leave me in the morning. I realized it after she pushed me away and looked at me like I was someone to be avoided and feared. Running my hands over my face to wake myself up, I noticed how quiet the house was. My eyes went wide. Had Grace left? She couldn’t have. I hopped out of bed; my heels thudded as they hit the hardwood oor. Tossing on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I came barreling out of my room. Grace’s bedroom door was open. I peeked my head in to nd that all of her stu was gone and the bed was made. It was like no one had ever stayed here.
“Shit,” I yelled.
en I heard the trunk of a car close and all my worries melted away. Glancing outside the living room window, I watched Grace toss a bag in the back of her vehicle. She was ready to go. She looked back at the house and started walking toward it. I breathed a sigh of relief and ran to the kitchen.
I poured myself a cup of joe, waiting for her to come say her goodbyes. She’d clearly been up a while because the co ee was lukewarm. I guzzled the whole thing and re lled it again. e tepid acid coated the sides of my stomach as it made its way down, not much di erent than the whiskey that
played the same role just several hours prior. e screen door creaked open and
then closed, the wood slapping against the frame, a punctuation mark for the person entering the room. But unlike the free-swinging door, her footsteps were light and quiet, traveling through the living room as if she were gliding a few inches above the oor.
“Hey,” she said, standing at the opening of the kitchen, her arms crossed and guarded.
“Hay is for horses,” I joked and sipped the co ee.
Grace gave a tight smile and glanced around the house like she was taking it in one last time.
“You heading out?” I already knew the answer, but I wanted to hear her say
it.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got a long drive ahead of me.” Grace jingled the
keys in her hand. “I really appreciate all you’ve done. anks for showing me the Wyoming way.”
“It was my pleasure.” I took another sip. “You got everything?” She nodded again.
I nished the second cup of co ee and set the mug down on the counter. It being lukewarm made it taste funny. Not hot enough to punch with bright acidity and warm the body, but not cold enough to thicken into a sweeter, smooth experience—the worst of both worlds, something undesirable. My eyes returned to Grace. She was dressed in the same out t she arrived in: a black knee-length skirt, heels, and a black top with that bunched-up fabric on the front of it. It was like she had come full circle. e big city once again making itself known out here in the untamed wild. I took her all in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer day, from the heel of her stiletto up to her golden hair that fell perfectly below her shoulders.
When I stepped toward her, she stepped back, a scared animal ready to dash. “Let me walk you out,” I said.
“Yeah, sure.”
Grace walked backward a few steps before turning around. She glanced over
her shoulder at me, not letting me out of her sight for too long. I slid on my
pair of work boots at the door and followed her out onto the porch. She looked back again. Perhaps she discovered something that gave her pause, or maybe it was intuition.
e sun was a blaze of glory set halfway up that big blue Wyoming sky. e animals were agitated, making all sorts of noises—probably because they hadn’t been fed at the proper time. My boots clomped down the steps of the porch. Grace was already to her car, opening the driver’s side door. She paused and turned to me.
“I really enjoyed our time together,” she said, and for the rst time, I saw
the dimples her smile created. I wasn’t sure if they were there before. I assumed I would have noticed something as cute as Grace’s dimples, but maybe I wasn’t seeing things clearly—enamored by the entirety of her and not the details.
“I did too,” I said. My smile was as wide as a six-lane highway as I slowly strolled toward her. “Will I ever see you again?”
Her hand gripped the top of the door as she glanced at her driver’s seat and then back at me. Her ngers repositioned the keys. ey jingled slightly.
“I don’t think so,” she nally said.
I was only six feet from her now. I slid a thumb into the loop of my jeans and rocked back on my feet. I liked that she thought she was leaving. It was cute.
“Goodbye, Calvin.” She got into her vehicle and closed the door.
Grace slid the key into the ignition and delivered a small smile before turning it. e engine went click, click, click. She struggled, turning the key again. Click, click, click. e engine wouldn’t turn over. Her face became panicked, and she tried a third time. Click, click, click. Music to my ears. Her arm ailed like a windmill as she cranked the window handle on her dated vehicle.
Grace gritted her teeth, clearly displeased. “I thought you said you xed it?” “I thought I did too,” I lied. “Go ahead and pop the hood.” I moseyed over
to the front of the car and lifted the hood, toying around with some wires,
pretending to examine and make adjustments to random parts.
e car door squeaked open. Her heels munched on the gravel. From my peripheral vision, I saw her come into view. She hu ed, folded her arms in front of her chest, and pushed out her hip. Quite the attitude for a woman without a working car or cell phone.
“What’s wrong with it?” Her voice had an edge of annoyance to it. “I’m not so sure. I’m not a mechanic, Grace.”
“You promised it’d be xed by today.”
I turned my head toward her and a sinister smile slowly crept its way across my face. e mask beginning to slip. “I promised a lot of things.”
“What the hell does that mean?” she nearly yelled.
I couldn’t help but laugh and, in an instant, I was lunging toward her. She had no time to react. Grace tried to swat me away, but her pretty blond hair was already wrapped around my hand. She screamed so loud her voice cracked. “I promised I’d let you leave, and we both know that’s not happening,” I said, dragging her back toward the house. Her legs gave out, and she kicked at the ground. One of her heels slipped o . A Cinderella in the making. Grace’s hands shot up to my arms. She pinched and slapped and clawed. Her nails dug
into my skin, drawing blood.
“Fucking bitch,” I yelled. Stopping just before the steps, I struck her in the side of the head with my other hand. It was a warning. She cried out.
“Let me go,” she screamed, kicking and ailing.
“It’s too late for that,” I said, caressing her face with my hand. “You shouldn’t have come here, Grace, but I’m glad you did.” I smiled.
She craned her head and opened her mouth, snapping at my hand. I didn’t pull away fast enough and her teeth clenched down on my pinky nger. A pained scream escaped my mouth, and I released my grip on her. Grace hit the ground and bit down harder. I tried to pull away, but her bite was like a vice. My steel-toed boot struck her ribs and she coughed, forcing her pretty little mouth open. My nger was a mangled bloody mess with bone exposed. Grace rolled to her side, coughing and gurgling on my blood.
“ at wasn’t smart, Grace.”
She was on all fours, trying to stand, while I ripped the sleeve of my T-shirt o and wrapped it around my hand. e pain was nearly unbearable, and I hoped Dr. Reed would be able to x it. I thought she’d try to run. I enjoyed the chase. But instead, she completely caught me by surprise. Grace charged at me, hitting me in the stomach like a lineman on a football eld. I gasped, falling backward. is wasn’t the rst time she took my breath away. When I
rst laid eyes on her, I knew she’d be a ghter. My back cracked against the wooden porch step. I winced and rolled to the side. While I collected myself, she was already running back into the house. Had she ever seen a horror movie? You never run back inside.
“Where are you going, Grace?” I yelled, getting to my feet.
I threw open the screen door. e living room was empty. e kitchen was empty.
“Oh, Graaaace . . . where are you?” I sang out like a child playing hide-and-
seek.
No answer, but I heard shu ing down the hallway. I walked toward the noise nonchalantly, running my ngers along the wall, taking my time. e hunt is always much more fun than the catch.
I sang slowly as I strolled down the hallway.
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,
at saved a wretch like me,
I once was lost, but now am found, Was blind but now I see.”
e bathroom door was open. Empty. Albert’s room was the same. at left two rooms—the room she had stayed in and my bedroom. Both doors were closed. I went to the guest room rst and, rather than opening it, I simply turned the lock. If she was in there, she’d stay in there until I said otherwise. I walked to the end of the hall where my bedroom was, the last one on the left.
As I put my hand on the door handle, I felt a wave of dizziness come over me.
I rubbed my forehead and patted my cheeks, immediately regretting getting into the bottle of whiskey last night. Turning the handle, I threw the door open. ere she was, my amazing Grace, standing in the corner, holding my knife. She must have found it when she was snooping around the basement. Such a naughty guest. e sun seeped through the window and hit the blade, making it shimmer. What separated me from her was my king bed and a desk o to the side with my computer. Grace held the blade out steadily. Her blue, blue eyes xated on me.
“Oh, you want to take this to the bedroom?” I chuckled. “I knew you were
an easy lay but this takes the cake, Miss Grace.”
I took another step toward her. Her knuckles were white from gripping the handle of the knife so tightly.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she said.
at dizzy feeling hit me again, causing me to stumble to the side. I caught myself on the desk and stood upright. Why had I drunk so much last night? I knew I had a big day ahead of me. e room began to spin like I was on a merry-go-round. Grace was at the center of it, still and beautiful and unmoved by what I was going through.
“You’re the one that shouldn’t have come here, Calvin,” she said.
e room spun faster and faster, and no matter how fast it spun, everything was a blur but Grace. I wanted to close my eyes and never open them again, but I forced them though they begged to be closed. I fell to the bed, rolling onto my back. My head spun. And then I felt like I was oating, just above myself, just enough to see nearly everything . . . everything but Grace.
“What’s happening to me?” I yelled. I tried to bring my hand to my head
but I felt paralyzed. e only thing I could do was blink and look up at that popcorn ceiling. e ceiling fan spun ’round and ’round, much slower than the rest of the room.
Her one heel clicked against the oor, and then she was standing over me. Her eyes stared into mine. I tried to swing my arm at her but I couldn’t pick it
o of my chest. My other arm laid by my side, stuck, like concrete had been
poured around it. Grace pressed the tip of the knife against her nger and twirled it like she was taunting me.
“What did you do to me?” I asked.
“A little of this. A little of that.”
My heartbeat pulsated in my feet, my neck, my arms. It was usually steady but now it raced.
“Is this about that goddamn missing bitch?” I spit. “Is she here?” Grace tilted her head.
My eyelids so badly wanted to close. Tears streamed from the corners of
them, slithering down the sides of my face. I struggled again to move my arms and legs. Nothing.
“Yes.” Even speaking became a chore, every muscle in my body seizing up, useless.
“Is she alive?”
“I think so.” Grace nodded.
“Did you really think you’d be able to keep me here?” she asked. “Just . . . stupid bitch.”
“ at’s not very nice, Calvin. You shouldn’t call people names.” She raised
the knife above her head.
“Please . . . no,” I begged. “Just call the police. e girl is . . . in . . . a shed . . . the woods. Forty yards . . . behind the apiary.”
She tilted her head to the other side. “Did you kill Albert?”
“No.” I panted. “ at bitch . . . was . . . hollering and . . . Albert’s drunk ass . . . must . . . have heard it. He stumbled right . . . into the bees.”
Grace brought the knife to her side and glanced out the window, taking in the scenery while she twirled the weapon in her hand. I tried to move again, but I had no control of my body. It was like I had been dipped into a pool of quicksand. I wasn’t sure what she would do. She seemed con icted about calling the police. But why?
Grace’s eyes scanned my body.
“Are you going to call them or not?” I forced the words out all at once. “No cell phone service,” she said.
I tried to point at the computer but I couldn’t. I sucked in a gulp of air.
“ e computer. ere’s a Wi-Fi router beside it. Just plug it in.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You lied about the Wi-Fi too?” Grace walked to the desk and pulled out the chair, taking a seat. One movement of the mouse made the screen turn on. I strained to see what she was doing. I knew my Airbnb account was pulled up because it was the last thing I looked at to con rm my next guest’s arrival in a few days.
“Review guest. Don’t mind if I do,” she said with a devious smile. She placed her ngers on the keyboard and typed away, reading aloud the words, “Grace was a terri c guest. She’s welcome back anytime.”
“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled and then gasped for air. She dramatically clicked the mouse. “Rating: ve stars.”
“I have to know,” Grace said, standing from her seat. “Because it’s been bothering me. What really happened the night Lisa died?”
I sighed. “Will you call the police if I tell you?” “Sure.”
I took several deep breaths.
My eyes closed for a moment and the memory ashed across the back of my lids like a movie in a dark theater.
Lisa sat in the passenger seat beside me while I drove Joe’s truck on the black twisting road. It was dark outside, the only light coming from the moon and the vehicle’s headlights. I couldn’t tell if the rumbling was coming from the truck or Joe asleep in the back seat, snoring away. She glanced over at me and smiled. Her hair was full of blond ringlets and her eyes were green like emeralds. e evening was perfect until it wasn’t anymore.
“Calvin, I’m leaving next week,” she said shakily.
“What do you mean?” I tried to keep my eyes on the road, but I kept looking over at her.
“My assignment is over.”
“I thought you extended it already.” I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter.
Lisa tilted her head. “I tried. But they don’t need me anymore, so I accepted a temporary nursing position in Alaska. I start next week.”
“You didn’t even talk to me about this,” I yelled.
She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. “I’m talking to you right now.”
“No, you’re not. You’re just telling me how it’s going to be.” I icked her hand o and shoved her back.
“Calvin,” she nearly cried. “ is doesn’t have to be the end for us.”
I saw red and pressed down on the gas pedal. e truck sped up from forty to forty- ve.
“Yes, it does,” I said.
“Slow down, Calvin,” Lisa begged.
Up ahead an animal prepared to cross the road. e headlights made its eyes glow.
Lisa swatted me several times, telling me to slow down. I shoved her again, harder this time. Her head cracked against the passenger window. Joe was still dead asleep in the back. Lisa cried and held her head. e truck’s speed climbed to sixty.
“Pull over now,” she yelled.
I unclicked her seat belt, setting her free from me and this world, and braced myself.
She yelled, “What the hell is wrong with you?” while she tried to refasten it.
It was too late. e truck went from sixty to zero in an instant, a collision of metal, esh, and glass. It all went black. e sound of gurgling woke me, almost like a babbling brook. But it wasn’t. Lisa was pinned against the passenger seat, trying to breathe. e elk’s antlers had gored her, and her pierced lungs were quickly
lling with blood. She coughed and choked on it, spitting it up, attempting to speak. Her eyes were wide and soaked with tears, pleading to me for help. I just stared. I couldn’t bring myself to call , until I knew that she would never leave for Alaska.
My eyes reopened, the memory rescinded to the back of my mind,
compartmentalized.
Grace narrowed her eyes. “And then you moved your brother to the driver’s seat and put it all on him?”
“Yeah,” was all I could manage to say.
She shook her head and left the room, reappearing in the doorway not more than thirty seconds later.
“I almost forgot,” she said. From behind her back, she revealed the stu ed teddy bear I bought her.
Grace crawled on top of me, straddling my hips. Her eyes stared into mine.
I begged her to stop, to leave, to call the police, and to take anything she wanted, at least I think I did. I’m not sure what words were coming out and which were still swirling around my brain.
“Please . . . don’t do this . . . Grace.”
“For your comfort,” she said, placing the teddy bear beneath my arm.
Grace lifted the knife high above her head. e sun hit the blade again, making it shimmer. I let out a labored scream.
“You said you’d call the police if I told you,” I panted.
She dragged the tip of the blade lightly down my ribs, feeling the metal rise and fall, up and down the peaks and valleys of the bone. en between the bottom two ribs, she leaned forward; she and the knife simultaneously moved into me.
“I guess I lied too, Calvin.”
My eyes widened so much, it felt like my lids would split at the corners. Grace raised the knife above her and plunged it into the center of my chest. My white tee turned red. She yanked the knife from my chest. Blood sprayed from the wound, splattering onto her.
I gurgled and coughed, choking on a pained scream. Without hesitating, she thrust the knife into my cheek. e tip nearly touched the back of my throat. It slid through my skin like butter. I knew this was the end. Where had it all gone wrong? How did she know? How did she get the upper hand? e
weight in my muscles seemed to go away. Finally, I was free of the spell. Free of
the dizziness and fear. I nally let my eyes close, allowing them to get the rest they deserved.
