The Acadia Killer

Chapter 15

Something wasn't right when I awakened just after noon. Blake was gone, nowhere in sight. Something didn't feel right.

The sticky remnants between my thighs of our morning escapades were now nothing more than an annoyance as I climbed out of bed, feeling my skin stick together. I needed a shower, but first, I wanted to know where Blake had gone off to.

Throwing on my dirty night shirt and panties, I noticed his clothes were no longer in a pile on the floor. Had he just left me after we'd had sex? I was on the verge of being angry at the thought of him leaving until I reached the top of the staircase and saw him through the glass door in the living room. He was standing on the porch, talking on his phone. I wandered down the steps and saw that he'd made a fresh pot of coffee, as well as pancakes and toast. A man after my own heart, I thought with a smile. But something still seemed off.

Venturing toward the door, I could hear bits and pieces of what Blake was saying on the phone and he sounded pissed. Then I heard the last thing anyone wanted to hear: the mention of the Acadia Killer. He'd killed again.

My blood ran cold at the words coming from Blake's mouth. He didn't know I could hear him as I stood in his shadow on the other side of the glass. I couldn't make out who he was talking to, but I hoped he would fill me in when he came back inside.

I listened a few seconds longer and then decided I may as well wait for details later, given that one side of the conversation was not near enough information for me to grasp what all was going on. I wandered back into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of toast before heading back upstairs and finding some clean clothes to take into the bathroom.

It didn't take me long to hop in the shower and wash away the remnants of the early morning adventures we'd shared. I spent a few extra minutes shaving my legs in case another round of fun decided to rear its head later on. Letting the warm water cascade over my body seemed to help wake me up, the steam invading my sinuses and taking some of the soreness out of my aching back muscles.

About the time I stepped out of the shower, I heard the glass door slide shut downstairs, signaling Blake's reentry. I toweled off my body and gave a sad excuse for towel drying my hair while I hopped around on one foot, attempting to get clean underwear on. Once dressed, I collected my dirty laundry and sauntered down the stairs, dropping off the towels and clothing in the washing machine on my way to the kitchen.

"Good morning," Blake smiled, biting into a piece of buttered toast.

He was leaning against the island, forearms resting on the granite. I could tell by the way his hair looked that he'd taken the opportunity to shower before I'd gotten up earlier. He was wearing a different set of clothes though, which made me wonder if he'd left to grab fresh clothes and come back. Surely, he wouldn't have done that though because he didn't have a key to the house. He wouldn't have left me alone with the front door unlocked, right?

"Did you go home and get fresh clothes?" I raised a brow, hoping he would say no.

He managed a chuckle, probably having a good idea of why I was asking and finished chewing before he answered. "No. I always keep a change of clothes in my truck. You never know when you're going to slip on a trail and fall on a bear turd in the woods and I'd rather not have said turd mashed into my leather seatback. And yes, I'm speaking from experience."

I burst into laughter at his explanation, which only made him laugh harder too. For just a moment, everything seemed perfectly fine. Watching this funny, handsome, kind man stand in the kitchen and laugh with me made all my worries go away, and that was priceless to me, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. The way his eyes lit up when he smiled and the way he looked genuinely happy to spend time with me, in spite of everything we were dealing with... It was something I could've only hoped for in my dreams until I met Blake. Now I fully understood what Michelle meant when she stressed to me what a good man he was.