The Blood Barn (Book #2 in trilogy)

Chapter 5: Eyes Shut

Sipping my morning tea, I knew that Marta would be arriving any moment now. My anxiety was through the roof and my heart was beating quicker than when I first kissed Marta on our second date. If only things had remained the same.

I walked around the house, examining everything that had been done. My parents showed up just like they said they would and helped me breathe new life into my home. My dad and I did most of the work, while my mom had a tendency to supervise us with drinks to stay hydrated.

The house was now nearly what I had imagined it to be when I first envisioned its potential. It wasn't a masterpiece by any means, but it was quite the improvement, both inside and out. I loved my home, yet I always felt something was missing.

My fingers slid along the wooden china cabinet as I tried to connect with everything around me. Marta had destroyed what we had built before, so I was determined to make sure that didn't happen again. If I was going to put my blood, sweat and tears, and heart and soul into something, it was going to last forever. I didn't want to start over again, but who knew what would happen once she arrived.

As I drifted off into thoughts of uncertainty, I heard a car driving up to the house. I had a sudden feeling of déjà vu and ran to the window to catch a glimpse of the car.

Dashing back into the kitchen, I peered out the window as a black car disappeared from sight beside the house.

"Shit," I muttered, realizing I had spilled tea all over myself and probably the floor.

I returned to the kitchen, setting down my mug so I could wipe up the mess. Once I double checked the floor for spilled tea, I hurried over to the front door and slipped on my old work shoes which were stained green from cutting the lawn. Once they were on, I opened the door and stepped outside on the newly leveled porch.

Marta's glowing smile greeted me as she radiated in the morning sunlight. The car that had dropped her off was just barely visible at the end of the driveway. It felt like she was an angel coming to rescue me, but I knew that wasn't the case. She had caused me so much pain and confusion in my life that I should have had the strength to tell her the truth and moved on. But I didn't. And then as I stood there, a bit short of breath, I knew the scene had played out before, I just couldn't wake up.

She smiled at me as I descended the five steps to the ground. I proceeded to walk toward her slowly, unsure if she would come running toward me with a fillet knife and revive her old ways.

Before I was within arm's reach, I stopped. I slid my hands into the pockets of my navy blue sweatpants and kicked the dirt at my feet, playing shy like a little boy meeting a girl for the first time.

"Hi, baby," she greeted.

Looking up from the ground I replied softly, "Hey."

"I'm back," she smiled.

I nodded. "I see that." Knowing it wouldn't have felt genuine, a smile didn't form on my face. I felt like I was playing a game with my emotions by her showing up after I made the effort to move on.

She licked her lips then asked, "What's wrong?"

As I pulled my hand from my pocket to scratch the back of my head, I didn't know how to reply. There was a lot wrong with the situation, especially the fact that it wasn't real.

"This isn't real," I finally replied, pulling my other hand from my pocket and folding my arms.

She frowned as she stepped forward, then thought better of throwing her arms around me in a tight embrace.

"Baby, I am real. I missed you. Don't you miss me?" Her face was instantly filled with anguish as if I had already said something horrible.

"Not really," I confessed confidently. "And I don't love you anymore."

"But why, baby?" She was on the verge of crying as I thought about how to handle the situation.

Unfolding my arms, I began to turn away from her. The passion I thought might have rekindled was no longer present. I knew it had died months ago, I just didn't want to believe it had. The hope I had for us, all but died in the blink of an eye. I just couldn't be convinced there was any chance for us to go back.

I stepped back toward the house as if I wanted to end the conversation right then and there. Before I took more than half a dozen steps toward the house, Marta called out to me.

"Baby, wait!"

"I'll be right back," I lied, turning around to face her.

"You found someone else," she guessed. "That's why you won't hug me. That's why you won't invite me inside with you." Marta began to sob. "I went to prison and waited for you. Why did you even bother helping me get a reduced sentence?"

The question and accusations were ones I expected, but I didn't want to see her cry anymore.

"I haven't found anyone else, Marta," I assured her, turning all the way around to face her as tears poured down her cheeks. "I have been living here all by myself. My mom and dad have been helping me fix up the house as I wait for your final release. Today is one of those visitation days, but I fear my love for you has already died."

"Then you should die too," she threatened through trembling lips.

"What?" My eyebrows narrowed as I was shocked by her words. I began to become defensive, anticipating more empty threats.

"We should die together. Lovers should not be separated like this. It is torture. I am not going back to prison unless you do too."

Waving my finger back and forth, I began to laugh. "Okay, now you're being ridiculous."

"No I am not," she insisted. "You helped me kill Martin. We either rot in prison together, or we die together."

"Your prison term is almost up," I reminded her.

"So? You do not love me, so now you can suffer too!"

I brought my hand to face and mumbled, "Wow". As I did, I didn't notice her charging toward me.

Marta screamed as I looked up at the last second, a fillet knife in her hand and rage consuming her eyes. She swung forward at my unsuspecting body, aiming for my chest. There was no chance I could move in time, so I closed my eyes.