Stay(57)

“Addie,” I told him. “Call me Addie.”

He looked back and gave me a small smile. “Okay. Night, Addie.”

“Night, Jackson.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE





JACKSON WAS RIGHT. Three days later, the temperature went up to the mid-forties, and the snow melted. I was standing on a chair looking out the tiny window. Sunlight gleamed off the puddles. The grass was brown and matted down, making the day look bleak, despite the sun.

I had been alone all day. Lily was at the club with Rochelle, and Phoebe had been bought for an overnight bachelor party. I wished I could tell the bride-to-be she was marrying a disgusting piece of shit. I jumped off the chair.

“Maybe he doesn’t know,” I said out loud to myself. Maybe the groom’s friends paid for Phoebe and it was all a surprise. Then I wondered if they even knew Phoebe was doing it against her will. Maybe they gave her the money and thought she went home to spend it on her shoe collection. They wouldn’t assume the money would be ripped out of her hands and she would get shoved back down here.

“It doesn’t make it right,” I muttered and shook my head. I began pacing around the basement, doing laps around the card table. I paused at the base of the stairs to bend over and touch my toes. I had never been flexible. The stretching hurt when my fingertips brushed the tops of my feet.

The kitchen floor creaked. I quickly straightened myself and dashed behind the stairs, holding my breath. I heard the locks slip back and the knob turn. The first step creaked under someone’s weight.

“Addie?” Jackson called. I felt instant relief and something else—that same warm flutter—at the sound of his voice. He clomped down the stairs. I went around and waited. Jackson stopped, standing a few feet in front of me. His eyes met mine, and he held my gaze for a couple seconds before he blinked and shook his head. “We have yard work to do.”

“Yard work?” I echoed. “It’s still winter.”

He frowned and shrugged. “I know. I think that’s the point; we’ll have to do it over again.”

“What are we doing?”

“I don’t know. Nate just told me to get you.”

I crossed the basement and grabbed a coat. “At least it gets me out of here,” I mumbled. Jackson led the way up stairs, through the kitchen, and into the mudroom. I put on the oversized boots and followed Jackson into the garage. Nate stood in the driveway, looking as if he had just stepped off the set of an Armani photo shoot. His hair was exceptionally shiny in the sunlight, and his clothes were so well fitted, they had to be custom tailored. He waited for us to walk over.

“These bushes,” he said and waved at the front of the house. “They have to go.”

Jackson took a step forward, inspecting the row of boxwood bushes. “I just put those in this spring,” he blurted.

“I don’t care,” Nate said calmly. “Get rid of them. I want something with flowers instead.”

“It’s too early to plant anything,” I pointed out.

Nate turned to face me. “Do you think I’m stupid?” he asked, his intense eyes drilling into mine. I shook my head. “Good. I know it’s too early. That doesn’t matter.” His eyes darted back to the bushes. “Get rid of the bushes. Level the ground. Take everything out back and burn it.” His cold eyes flicked to my face. “Prove to me you’re worth keeping.” I stiffened and looked straight into his eyes. He turned his attention to Jackson. “I want it done by sunset.”#p#分页标题#e#

Jackson’s almond eyes widened, but he didn’t say anything. I knew what he was thinking; there was no way we could get all of that done in just a few hours. “Yes, sir,” he said. Nate extracted his phone from his pocket and briskly walked away. I trailed behind Jackson as he went into the shed to get tools.

I ran my hands over the smooth wooden handle of a shovel and looked at the house.

“You have a weird look in your eye,” Jackson said to me. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking about how nice it would be to beat Nate to death with a shovel. We could take him out and bury him in the backyard.” I glanced at Jackson. “No, we should leave him in the house so when Zane comes back and sees the bloody and mangled body, he’ll be shocked, and we can get him too.”

Jackson seemed taken aback by my violence, but then he smiled. “Sounds good to me,” he said and closed the shed, shovel and rake in hand.

“Seriously,” I stated and turned around. The oversized boots clomped through the damp lawn. “Let’s do it.”