When I arrive at my rented California bungalow on Cherry Street a little after two in the morning, I notice first the lipstick on the sticky note on the front door, not the words themselves. Even before I pull the note down and examine the handwriting, I know. There is only one person who wears that shade of red, not the hard, unyielding red of a fire engine, but the soft, pulsing red of a bleeding heart.
Starr.
“I’m inside,” reads the note. “Don’t call the police.”
Who else would I call? I have an intruder in my house. But then I remember. It’s been 17 years since I last saw her. Maybe things have changed. You never know, do you? Still I get out my cell phone, thumb poised over speed dial, just in case.
I don’t wonder how she entered without breaking the glass. The house is a century old. It would be easy to jimmy the lock. I could have purchased a security system, but why would I? I’m single. I work at a bar. The only things of value that I own I carry on me at all times: the gold watch given to me by my father and the keys to my car, a Dodge Dart.
The door creaks when I open it. At first, I think she’s not here and I am alone. But then shadows move down the narrow hallway. I set my keys on the table by the front door and flick on the light.
Her bright brown eyes hold my gaze for a long moment before I take in the rest of her. Everything I remember about her has softened, from the cloud of dark hair settling on her broad shoulders to the curve of her breasts and the slope of her thighs. She wears white like an angel, but everything about her reminds me of hell.
Starr Light.
“It’s good to see you,” she says, as if this meeting was planned. “I was wondering if I’d recognize you, but you still have the same green eyes, the same slightly crooked smile. You haven’t gained a pound although you’ve lost your hair. I expect your soul is still the same.”
I take a breath and let out a sigh. There is only one question I have to ask, only one question that matters. “Are you still married?”
Starr glances up into my eyes and smiles sadly. I know the answer long before she stretches out her left hand to showcase that cursed diamond set in a thick gold band. I don’t hear anything she says although her lips are moving and her voice carries through the room, trying to explain. But we’ve been through this all before, 17 years ago, when I fell in love for the first and only time, and I don’t want my heart stomped on
Verlag: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG
Texte: Angela Lam Turpin
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 05.11.2012
ISBN: 978-3-95500-651-8
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