The Blood Barn (Book #2 in trilogy)

Chapter 31: Back To Bars

That night after dinner, Marta and I sat naked in the bathtub. I held her from behind as we sat in warm water, trying to relax. We were both staying quiet, but for two completely different reasons. I wasn't sure if I should wait until Detective Barnhart arrived, or if I should give her the heads up. I was torn.

"How are you feeling, baby?" I asked as I noticed my fingers pruning from the water as I went to rub my head.

"Mmm, better." She groaned.

"Do you want to try eating again?"

Marta had managed to eat some plain french toast for dinner and drink some ginger ale as well, but for some reason she didn't touch the bacon and scrambled eggs.

"Not really, baby," she replied. "I just want to sleep."

"Okay," I accepted. "I hope you feel better before one tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Detective Barnhart is coming to pick you up," I answered. "He's bringing you back to prison."

If Marta had been feeling better she would have spun around and splashed water out of the tub. Instead, she turned her head slowly toward me and shifted against the inside of it.

"Really, baby? What happened?" Neither her expression, nor her voice matched how worried I knew she was deep down.

"He said that he knew basically from the beginning," I confessed. "Our lie didn't work. And to make things worse, he has more to tell me tomorrow when he shows up."

"Like what, baby?"

"I have no idea, but we're not in trouble for faking your death."

"That does not sound right, baby."

"I know," I assured her with a nod. "Something bad is probably going to happen. And I have no idea what."

In the morning Marta was feeling much better. She was able to eat scrambled eggs and toast, but still avoided the bacon for some reason.

As she applied jam to her last piece of toast with a knife, I glanced down at the time on my phone. We had just under an hour before Detective Barnhart would arrive since we spent most of our morning in bed and then played with the ducklings just before we ate.

Today was going to be bittersweet. We weren't being punished immediately for faking a death, but Marta was going back to prison, and I would have to live without her once more.

I exhaled through my nose as I sat at the table, staring blankly at the surface while Marta finished eating. We both knew she had to continue serving her prison sentence until she was granted parole, and that was the thing I feared most about what George had to tell me. I could live with doing community service, or Marta remaining in prison just a bit longer, but if her parole was to get revoked, then I would feel absolutely awful. I would blame myself for the failed plan screwing things up for us.

"Baby?" She called to me.

"Hm." I snapped out of my daze and looked over at her. "What, baby?"

"Are you okay?" The expression on her face told me she was rather concerned about leaving me alone.

"Yeah," I nodded through an exhale. "I'll be fine. I'm just worrying about things that haven't even happened."

She extended her upturned palm as she asked, "Like what, baby?"

Glancing down at her hand I placed mine on top of it. "I'm just worried I won't see you again for a really long time. Even longer than the first time."