Before You Go

chapter ten

Leon

For the first time in years, I sleep in past six A.M. When I wake up, I feel the warm rays of sun streaking across my face and can hear birds chirping. I sigh in relief as I roll over, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Waking up after the sun has risen is almost better than sex.

Almost.

Not that I can really compare getting eleven hours of sleep to sex – I've only had sex once in my life and that was seven years ago. Any other man would call me a prude for starving myself like this, but there's only one woman I want to sleep with – even if she is getting married. I would call myself...selective. Maybe even picky. The only girl I want is Liz.

After I've showered and cleaned myself up, I head to the main house to grab a bite to eat. I tried to convince Tenille that I could cook for myself – the carrier house does have its own kitchen – but she insisted that I stick to grabbing food from the kitchen in the main house. She says she trusts my cooking skills, but I think she's lying to me. I think she thinks I'm going to end up burning down the carrier house if someone isn't there to watch me when I'm flexing my cooking skills.

Once inside, I hear voices echoing down the hallway from the kitchen. I frown. I was expecting to be alone this time – it's almost noon, after all. Being alone would have benefited me greatly because I need some time alone and a full stomach to figure out how I'm going to make Liz sit down and talk to me. So far, I've only come up with finding some rope and tying her to the maple tree. I have this theory that Liz doesn't necessarily hate me, but she doesn't necessarily like me either. I know she's pushing me away because she's upset with my actions and the aftermath she had to deal with. That being said, I also think she wants to talk to me and figure things out.

I chuckle to myself, running a hand through my hair. Typical Eliza Sangster – a walking paradox.

The kitchen is a disaster when I step into the large, open-concept area. Every inch of counter space is covered in silicone moulds, a bucket of lye, a crockpot, and several individual pots. I see some wooden spoons as well as a few rolls of paper towel. On the island, there are containers of coconut oil, olive oil, lard, almond oil, castor oil, cocoa butter, shea butter, and what looks to be millions of small vials of essential oils.

In the midst of it all, I see Tenille and Serena. Both of them are wearing stained aprons, safety goggles, and purple rubber gloves. If it weren't for the different hair colour, they'd look like identical twins.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," Tenille says. "I'd ask how you slept, but seeing as it's noon, I'd say you slept pretty well."

"That I did," I reply, shooting her a lazy grin as I sit down on one of the barstools. I rest my elbows on the minimal free counter space, right next to the essential oils. I pick one up and inspect the label. It's peppermint. Curious, I undo the lid and bring the vial to my nose. The peppermint scent is so potent that it overwhelms my nostrils, creating a burning sensation. "What the hell are you two doing? Is there a new way to dispose of a body?"