“Why don’t you join me? That way if you see something that you like you can get it,” Cloe suggested.
“Well, I don’t know,” she said, looking down at her cane. “I wouldn’t want to slow you down. That’s why my brother doesn’t take me.”
Unless her brother was the Road Runner he had no business talking. No doubt he was just as slow.
“That’s fine. I’m sure they have an electric scooter at the store that you can use.”
“Really?” Ms. Petersen smiled, looking excited.
“Really. Do you want to go…..,” Cloe’s voice trailed off as she watched Ms. Petersen grab her oversized bag and hurry to the front door as though she was afraid that Cloe was going to change her mind.
Poor thing, Cloe thought, following after her.
*-*-*-*
With a pained sigh, Christofer climbed the stairs, slowly. It was time to make Marta’s dinner. Actually, it was past time to make her dinner, he realized after a quick glance down at his watch.
Shit.
He must have been more exhausted than he’d thought. He’d slept for a good five hours. Feeling like an ass**le for making her wait, he moved his ass faster.
Trying not to cringe when he saw the dirty counters, floor and stove, he made his way to the refrigerator. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d scrubbed down the kitchen, but it definitely needed it. After he finished this next project he’d focus on getting the house cleaned up for his sister.
“Shit,” he muttered as he opened the refrigerator door and then the cabinets to find them empty. Looked like he forgot to go shopping, again, he realized with a wince.
“I guess it’s pizza tonight,” he mumbled, unable to help but feel a little relieved that he didn’t have to cook tonight. He grabbed the portable phone and headed into Marta’s part of the house. “Marta, what do you want on your pizza?” he yelled.
No answer.
“Marta?”
When she didn’t answer, he closed his eyes and listened for her heartbeat. Nothing. Dread filled him. As much as he hated living in this town, he loved her and couldn’t imagine his life without her.
He ran to her room and damn near fell to his knees with relief when he didn’t find her body. Then he went to the living room and when he didn’t find her there, he searched the rest of the house, but there was no sign of her. He closed his eyes and inhaled again only to shake his head in disgust when he picked up Cloe’s lingering scent on his clothes.
He ran outside and searched the backyard and adjoining woods, but there wasn’t any sign of her. This wasn’t like Marta. She never left the house to visit one of her friends without telling him first. More to the point, she couldn't leave the house if he didn’t give her a ride.
An old memory of watching her being dragged from their childhood home tried to take over, but he pushed it aside before he lost control. Not knowing what else to do, he headed back into the house to find his cellphone. He called all her friends, who yelled at him for calling at the ungodly hour of seven o’clock until he explained to them that Marta was missing. Then they panicked and began reminiscing about past events that had terrified them, like when Evelyn’s poodle went missing for nearly a half hour. Before he did something like snap at the old women, he politely got off the phone, knowing Marta would hit him upside his head with her cane if he upset any of her friends.
He called the police next only to learn that he needed to wait twenty-four hours before he could file a missing person’s report. Why in the hell was he paying taxes if they weren’t going to do their job? He asked them that only to have them hang up on him.
Finally, he walked out onto the front porch and waited and wondered what the hell he should do next. This wasn’t like Marta. She hadn’t stepped out of the house without him in almost four decades.
No, something was wrong here. Someone had taken his sister. He slowly got to his feet, allowing the anger to build inside him. He was going to kill whoever dared lay a finger on her. His fangs shot out of his gums as his eyes burned and for the first time in nearly fifty years he welcomed them. He would never allow anyone to hurt his sister, not again.
Just as he was about to tear the town apart to find her, a small black SUV pulled into the driveway and parked next to his truck.
His jaw dropped as he watched….no, it couldn’t be. It was! Shit. Hunger slammed into him as he watched Cloe climb out of the vehicle. He squeezed his eyes shut and forced them to shift back to normal. It took a few swipes of his tongue before his fangs receded. When he felt like he had a good grip on his control, he opened his eyes to watch her every move. She didn’t even glance his way as she walked quickly around the car and helped someone out.
Marta.
He watched through narrowed slits as his sister grabbed her cane with a polite “thank you” and a big smile. She walked around the vehicle, grinning hugely as if he hadn’t just spent the last two and a half hours worrying about her.
“Oh! There you are!” Marta said when she spotted him standing on the front steps. “Oh, I had such a wonderful time! First we went to the buffet that I've wanted to go to for years! Oh, it was so delicious! They cut the meat right there for you!”
She continued rambling on, oblivious to his seething anger. “I had a salad, and then some pasta, ham, turkey, fried chicken. Oh, it was so delicious! Then we went and tried the soft serve ice cream over on Wilmington.” He stood there waiting for her to realize that she was in trouble. He had no idea where that woman got off taking his sister, but he was going to find out. Then he was going to drain her dry for taking his sister without his permission and scaring the ever-living hell out of him!
“Did you know that they had electric scooters at the grocer’s?” she asked in an accusing tone, cutting into his murderous thoughts.
Shit.
He had known. He just hadn’t told her because he didn’t want to chance even that slowing him down. He hated going out in public and having her along would just prolong the experience.
“It was so nice to pick out my own fruits and vegetables. The produce and meat departments are so much larger than I remembered. Cloe was so nice. She never once complained about how slow I was going,” she said casually, but he didn’t miss the reproachful tone in her voice.
He watched the woman in question open the hatch of her SUV. Something whacked him on the thigh, rather hard. He glared down at his sister who made no move to hide the fact that she’d just hit him with her cane.