Page 14 of Close Your Eyes

“It’s silly,” she says.

“What is?” I ask, turning my body to see her.

“The thing I remember, or I should say, the smell I remember.”

I place my hand over hers, and then regret my decision. I swiftly remove my hand and run it over my beard. “Start at the beginning.”

She sucks in a deep breath. “Well, I remember sitting there, waiting. And then I distinctly remember smelling a cigar that had an orange flavor to it. Is that weird?”

“You smelled the cigar right before the attack?” I ask.

She nods. “I remember I could barely even register that I smelled it at all before I was being attacked from behind.”

“I’m so sorry you were attacked under my watch.”

She blinks up at me. “I don’t blame you. There was nothing you could do.”

I glance out at the river. “I still feel horrible. This should have never happened while I was there.”

We sit in silence for a few minutes before she shifts closer to me.

“I used to come fishing here when I was a young girl. My father and I would go out to the camping grounds, past the gazebo, and he’d sit with me for hours trying to catch fish.”

“Did you catch a lot?”

“Some days we did. Other days my father would drink and drink, and I’d play in the dirt.”

“Show me,” I hear myself saying, before I’ve really even thought about it.

“It’s a ways down that dirt path.”

“I’ve got time, do you?” I stand from the bench.

She stands as well. “Follow me.”

Together we walk past the gazebo, out toward the camping area of the park. We turn onto a hiking trail, but I’m not dressed for it. I’ve got my Burberry leather Derby shoes on.

“Does Bane take you fishing here?” He’s probably got a lake on his property full of fish just for her.

She shakes her head. “Bane doesn’t really know that I like to fish.”

“How can he not know?” I’ve known her for barely any time at all, and this is the man she’s marrying.

“Just never came up.” She gives me a soft smile, and I don’t want to read too much into the fact he doesn’t know.

Maybe it never came up because they’re too busy doing other things. Physical things.

I’m getting pissed off here, thinking about all the things Bane gets to do to her that I’ll never get to do.

“Are you okay?” she asks when I pick up my pace.

I slow back down and gaze at her. “How could it never come up?” I ask, even though I know the answer will probably slay me.

“Let’s just say Bane likes to talk about what Bane likes to talk about.”

“And what’s that?”

She shrugs. “Bane things.”