Free Relentless: Three Novels by Lindsey Stiles Page A

had once shared as a happy family.
    Now, there was only Nikki and her sister left. Their grandparents, who had also passed away, had raised them after their mother had died and their dad had disappeared on that same horrific day.
    Sighing, Nikki pulled over and parked her car across the street from their old Victorian house. The yard looked like every other yard on the street: neat, manicured, perfect. The grounds were a stark contrast to the condition of the house. The house, once grand, now looked forlorn. She hadn’t expected the house to be vacant, but from her view of the torn green drapes in the living room window, it obviously was. A chill ran through her as she recognized the drapes from her childhood. Nikki had memories of those drapes swaying in the breeze of a rotating fan while her parents played records and danced together.
    Nikki shut off the engine and got out of her car. Keys in hand, she stood on the sidewalk across the street, staring, her heart hammering and her breathing shallow. Yes, she was having a panic attack, but she knew she could overcome it. The important thing was not to run or let herself start screaming.
    She was dismayed, though, at the paint peeling off in large sections, the screen door dangling askew by one hinge, and a few broken windows. Leaves clogged the rain gutters and the gingerbread trim on the second story was pulling away from the nails. The only thing that looked decent about the home was that the lawn was mowed, the walnut trees were professionally trimmed and the flowerbeds were full of gently blowing pansies. One odd thing stood out. A shiny plastic “For Sale by Owner” sign was planted in the front yard.
    Nikki crossed the quiet suburban street and stood in the grassy front yard. If only the house could talk and tell her what had really happened that day. Both she and her sister had undergone a lot of therapy, but they had just been too young to understand or remember. Everything was forgotten, except for the fear. Years later, that fear remained her constant battle.
    “Hello?” said a male voice behind her.
    She screamed in surprise, but when she turned around, she saw a pleasant-looking dark-haired man with crystal-blue eyes. He held a spade in one hand and a tray of flowers in the other. She put her hand over her mouth when she realized that he was just a smiling gardener. Humiliated, she tried to catch her breath. “Oops! Sorry. I was…I am...jumpy sometimes.”
    “I’m so sorry I startled you,” the man apologized. “I was just about to plant some more flowers in the back yard.”
    “I didn’t hear you come up behind me. I was just looking at the house.”
    “That’s okay.” He paused. “I’m the owner of this house for sale. Are you interested in taking a look?”
    She hesitated and then replied, “Sure. I’d like that. Very much.”
    He put down the spade, took off his gardening gloves and reached out to shake hands with her. Out of politeness, she took it. His handshake was firm and his sweaty hands were calloused.
    “Jimmy Matthews,” he said.
    “Jimmy Matthews? The boy who used to mow our lawn?” she blurted.
    “ Your lawn? Tara? Little Tara?” he asked, his eyebrows raising slightly.
    “No, I’m Nikki, her younger sister.”
    “You’re all grown up. I didn’t even recognize you.”
    “I didn’t recognize you either.” She hesitated. “How do you own our old house?”
    “My parents bought it from your grandparents after your mom died and your dad…disappeared. My parents passed it onto me when they recently died in a car accident. I really need to sell it.”
    “I’m very sorry your parents died.”
    “Thank you,” he said. “Drunk driver.”
    “What a terrible tragedy.”
    He nodded and looked at the ground for a few moments.
    “The yard looks amazing,” she said appreciatively. “Even nicer than when you took care of it when we were kids.”
    His eyes met hers. “Thanks. I own my dad’s landscaping and lawn care