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Back Confess to Me Save as PDF
Chapters (87)
  1. Cover
  2. Also by Sharon Doering
  3. Title Page
  4. Dedication
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. 63
  69. 64
  70. 65
  71. 66
  72. 67
  73. 68
  74. 69
  75. 70
  76. 71
  77. 72
  78. 73
  79. 74
  80. 75
  81. 76
  82. 77
  83. 78
  84. 79
  85. Author’s Note
  86. Acknowledgements
  87. About the Author

Last night’s panic over Sawyer running out of the house with a handgun came back to me, but it was muted. Already history. I worried about Sawyer, but my worry was more like a vague muscle ache instead of a bleeding wound.

“Good morning,” I said, wiping my eyes.

“Oh. Are you OK?”

“Yeah, I’m OK.”

“Is it because of yesterday?” His voice was a soft apology.

I gazed up at him and smiled sincerely. “No. Not at all about you. I was thinking about my sister, actually. The one who died young.”

“Oh. Sorry about your sister.” He moved his hand up the back of his hair. “Sorry about yesterday too. I will give the gun back. Dad. Well, Dad and I talked.”

I nodded. “Thank you.” I was, but I also didn’t want to dig into this conversation twenty minutes before the bus came. I didn’t imagine he wanted to either. “I can make you a sandwich if you’re interested.”

A low, almost imperceptible mumble, like the vibration of a distant train, grew into a guttural, big cat growl.

Sawyer’s eyebrows went up. “What the fuck?”

I stood quickly, opened the door for him, and followed him inside.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. “I can’t believe our neighbor has cougars. This place is fucked up.”

“So incredibly fucked up,” I said, laughing. And just like that, me and Sawyer, we had something between us and only us.

55

55

Trevor made me breakfast. Sawyer caught the bus. Emily played quietly in her room.

Trevor told me about his late-night conversation with Sawyer. Sawyer’s friend loaned him the gun and was taking him for target practice.

“Sawyer’s a city kid who’s been dropped into a rural town,” he said. “Makes sense that he’d be intrigued. I told him we’d go to the firing range next weekend. Hunting a few more times too. Sawyer’s good. It’s my fail.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself. You’re juggling a lot,” I said. “You want some?” I pointed to my plate.

He smiled. “Nope, it’s all yours.”

Sitting at the table with Trevor, sipping hot coffee, dipping my toast in eggs, talking about the kids, it felt good. But it didn’t last.

“I’ve got to get going,” he said, laying his palm on my hand.

“Trevor?”

His hand fell away as he stood and walked to the sink. Outside, the deck was wet. It was drizzling.

“Days ago, you said the name Dawn Young rang a bell?”

“Who?” Behind me, the faucet turned on.

“The first night we got here, when I asked you about her murder, you said her name rang a bell. She was a girl your age. No, she was maybe a year older. She was murdered here when you were in high school. You would have been a junior, I think.”