Alace

One hand on the wheel, the other propping her head up with an elbow to the window, Alace steered the car away from Regg’s subdivision. Keeping her face blocked from the known camera locations, she took the back way out through a gate propped open by the local lawn service. In the distance, seen through the reflection of her rearview mirror, a black column of smoke rose from the ground. No flames were visible yet, but they’d come. The smoke was growing visibly larger, and it marked the result of her final handiwork.

In the front pocket of her jeans, heated by the blood still coursing through her body, was a flattened slug. She’d dug the bloodstained metal out of the mess left behind.

Regg had made a critical mistake, one he hadn’t recognized until it was entirely too late to save him.

He’d threatened Eric.

For once, she was glad the radio didn’t work in this car. The enforced silence left her unable to divert her brain from what had happened.

Through the hours of driving, she turned the events over repeatedly in her mind, struggling with grief and rage. First the anger at finding out the depth of Regg’s deceit, then the fear of knowing he’d actively recruited a man to have her killed.

As she’d dragged the body to his bedroom, top half bagged to contain the blood and brain matter she’d scooped up to stage the scene, she had systematically run through every moment of their encounter. Trying, even after it was set in stone, to see the point where she could have altered the outcome. The series of decisions that could have led to a different path.

Through her labors to first, place Regg’s body so it looked like he’d been overcome by smoke, crushed by a dresser turned over in his distress, then on to the dismantling of the cameras she’d placed, undoing her work in every way, she’d tried to pick apart her actions as well as his, to no avail. There were simply no other outcomes she could see, not without altering Regg’s intent. Into her bag had gone the hard drives, cameras, gun, Taser, and the paper documentation she’d taken from Regg’s in-floor safe. Alace had spent precious time beginning the scramble and wipe sequence she’d already queued up on Regg’s systems.

Killing Regg had always been an option, albeit an outside one, and Alace had planned for every possible outcome from today.

She had relocked the safe and then left Regg’s workroom open as she tinkered with his vehicle. With the hood up and the car’s grimy engine exposed, it had been the work of moments to damage the battery cables, creating the illusion of ill maintenance. She then had used a blade to scrape the insulation off a section of wiring harness, grounding it against the car’s frame. The same blade created a small hole in a fuel line, positioned alongside the damaged wiring. She’d let it drip as she finished her work, gone outside to deal with the remaining cameras there. When she’d come back inside, the smell of gasoline had been strong, and she’d gathered up her bag and placed it just outside, where it would be easy to grab on her way back to her car.

Standing in his garage, she’d gone back over everything, ticking off a list in her head, ensuring she’d not forgotten anything that could potentially lead back to her. The time of death would be close enough to the house burning that it shouldn’t be a problem, and she felt she’d done Regg’s kids a favor by going that route. She could have staged it as a suicide, and with the breakdown of his marriage, it would have been believable. His kids would have had to live with that, though.

Lena’s words echoed through her head, and Alace blinked. Maybe there was one last secret to untangle. Who was Lena’s father, and how did Regg enter her life? Information was always good.

“Is it better to never know?” Alace’s muttered question was whipped from her lips and out the window, rushing air through the car displacing the sounds with ease.

She’d stayed long enough after pushing the button on the car’s remote start to see the flames licking along the garage floor under the vehicle, eagerly feasting on the fuel spilled there, crawling up the inside of the wheel well to chew along the wiring and tubing, breaking through and releasing even more caustic and flammable liquids.

The wording on a sign caught her attention as it flew past; Denver was only a couple of hours away.

What is Eric going to do?

That one question had been preying on her mind since she began making the trek home. Is it still home? Was she fooling herself about this feeling between them? They’d run hot together, and the connection was undeniable, but still she wondered if it could be sustainable. He loves me. Could that love withstand truly understanding what she did? The details as she’d laid out for him in the cabin? The story she was bringing home in her head?

Shut up, she told herself, you’re tired and it was a trying day. Alace blinked, eyes stinging. Trying. More like fucking devastating.

She’d expected a lot of what she found, but some things were harder to swallow than others. She’d always known Regg was cold and calculating when it came to the work they did together. But seeing the look on his face made her question if she’d ever had a friend in him. Was it wishful thinking? Me needing a stable connection, since every day of my life has been transient? Here today, gone tomorrow. That’s how she’d lived for so long, making a space for herself in Eric’s life and house had been like sinking into a soft bed. Comfortable and supportive, something she didn’t want to lose.

I won’t lose him. He cares about me for me, not for what I can do. Certainty settled into her soul as she allowed herself to believe, finally. Eric was with her because of who she was. The damaged parts of her didn’t frighten him. Breath clotted in her chest, she was overwhelmed for a moment with the knowledge. It could be storming all around them, embers falling from the sky as things fell apart and Eric would still love her. She knew he was waiting, and in her mind, she could imagine what he was doing, nearly see how he would be pacing his living room restlessly, eyes aimed to the windows as he watched for her to come home. I’m on my way, honey.

Alace lifted her chin, aiming the car towards Denver, foot heavier on the gas as she pushed the vehicle harder. For once, she didn’t worry about drawing unneeded attention and found this reality freeing. She was just herself in this moment, and regardless what Regg had thought, she’d faithfully protected this identity through the years, which meant Alace Sweets was above reproach.

The only thing that mattered was going home. To Eric.

***

Eric

Forcing himself to patiently wait for Alace to come to him was one of the hardest things Eric had ever done. Every fiber of his being was shouting for him to rush outside and greet her, at the least to fling the door open and show her he was waiting. He knew from experience that sent the wrong message for the right reasons, highlighting his fears that one day she might choose not to return home. That he’d spent their time apart in dread. Those thoughts were gone, now.

He knew. She’d always come back to him.

So for Eric, waiting for her to finish the journey all the way home was his way of telling her he trusted her. He believed in them.

Her car door slammed, and a moment later, he heard the scraping of her key at the lock. “It’s open,” he called, his voice ragged and scratchy from disuse. The door swung open immediately, Alace silhouetted against the brilliance outside. Arms spread wide, he held his breath, blowing it out in a silent sigh as she ran to him.

A moment later, her arms were around his neck, fingers winding through his hair, and he felt the sharp stinging of her tug when she pulled his head down for a kiss. Eric gave in for a moment, let her control things for a breath, then two, and then he lifted her off her feet, arms around her waist and hips, bringing her up to meet his mouth as he crushed her lips with his.

She would always be his.