His eyes light up, and my stomach spins. “What?” I ask, nervous.
“If it’s about earning my pay, then I should probably get to it.” His head moves forward, his lips gunning for mine.
Excitement rushes through me at the thought of his lips against mine. I’ve been secretly aching to kiss him again since last night. And now, as we share this moment, me tightly wrapped in his arms, it’s the perfect—
“Hey, lovebirds!” What the… Dang-it! We break apart to see a fancy speed boat nearing our way, a man in a swimsuit and robe leaning over the side, a cigar hanging from his mouth. “You the group staying at The Rodge Lodge?”
“Huh?” I ask, confused.
“The Rodge Lodge. Larry and Sherry Rodger’s place. Aren’t you the kids renting it out?”
The Rodge Lodge…oh yeah. “Yeah, that’s us,” I reply.
The guy pulls the cigar from his mouth and blows a huge puff of smoke into the sky.
“That’s what I thought. Heard the rap music playing from the boat. Same beats I heard last night echoing off the lake. Got an enticing invitation for you folks. One you don’t want to say no to.” I’m pretty sure Jim and I both come to the same conclusion. Swinging is not on either of our bucket lists. “See that house on the hill? Biggest one on the lake? That’s mine. And I’m inviting you and all your friends tonight for a party.”
We both adjust ourselves to stare in the direction the man points. “Wow, that’s a huge place you got there,” Jim says.
“Like I said, biggest on the lake. Huge party. Bring yourselves. And maybe some of those fancy koozies they have stocked over there. Preferably blue, with a signature on it.”
I’m a bit weirded out by the man. Who wears a king’s robe in the middle of summer on a lake? We both smile, thank him for his offer, and tell him we’ll see him tonight, then he’s gone.
Mick propels toward us, and Jim helps me climb into the boat. “What was that all about?” he asks as Jim hands me a towel.
“Some guy apparently knows the owners of the house we’re renting. Invited us to his party tonight.”
“Who?” Jason asks.
“Didn’t catch his name, but he lives in that house.” Jim points to the mansion on the hill.
“Oh shit, that house?” Jason exclaims, and all eyes fly to him.
“What do you mean that house?” I ask.
“The house on Bunker Hill. Read about it in the Lake Redstone book. All sorts of rumors about that place. It’s been said people have gone missing there. Some say it’s haunted. When I was taking care of my morning duties, I googled it. Photos of celebrities drinking the finest whiskey. No joke. Pictures from Brad Pitt and Jennifer Aniston to Michael Jackson.”
“Oh, stop.” June waves her hand. “You’re just messing with us.”
“Nope. Look it up yourself. The house is owned by some archeologist. Found a shit ton of fossils back in the eighties. Cashed in. Now he lives in the house and hosts extravagant parties on the lake. Strange he invited you after admitting we’re staying at The Rodge Lodge. Swore there was something about them having beef with each other.”
“Um…can we go back to missing people?” I ask. I feel like that’s an important factor.
“Like dead people haunted?” Katie chimes in.
Jason takes a swig of his beer. “Like weird shit happens up there. Unexplained stuff. People go, and some don’t return.”
Yeah, hell no. I’ll be just fine sitting at the lake house watching Jerry get high and play with the air.
“What kind of whiskey?” Mick asks, curiosity glowing in his damn eyes, and if I’m not mistaken, interest.
“Mick, no. Not a chance,” I argue.
“Why not? Seems kind of fun to me. No one’s gonna go missing. And if we get some expensive whiskey out of the deal, no harm, no foul.”
My life ending because some crazed lunatic axes me in his mansion on the hill doesn’t seem like “no harm, no foul” to me. “Yeah, I’m out,” I say. Final answer.
“I mean, it could be fun. It says here they have a state-of-the-art music museum. Tons of signed memorabilia from musicians who’ve visited the place.”
Jim’s ears perk up. Dammit, no! “What kind of musicians?” he asks.
“Who cares?” I smack him. “Ones who are probably dead, like we’ll be if he wins and lures us in.”
“I’m in.” My eyes whip to June. All my friends have gone mad!
“Poppy?” Jason asks. Thank god she is a smart person and will definitely say—
“I’m in too.”
What!
Katie and Jerry both repeat the same answer, and I’m stuck standing there gaping at my friends as if they’ve all lost their damn minds.
Mick claps his hands together. “It’s settled. Party tonight on Bunker Kill—I mean, Hill.”
I’m once again on the boat after going back to the lake house, showering, eating dinner, and slamming a whole lot of wine in order to get myself to agree to this. The sun is long gone and it’s pitch-black outside, the bright moon as our guide. I tried my best to talk everyone out of this idea, but it turned out to be pointless. The more I fought, the more everyone wanted to go.
Ghosts.
Fancy whiskey.
Music museum.
Who gives a hoot! I was outnumbered. Hence why I’m sitting with a scowl on my face. My eyes catch Jim, who’s sporting a carefree smile. I aim my scowl at him, but he winks at me, overpowering my anger. My glower drops a smidge and turns to a solid pout. I shake my head, so he doesn’t think his cute little endearment fazed me, and stare back out onto the lake.
Thankfully, it’s a short ride before we’re docking at the bottom of the hill. The house is huge. Complete darkness surrounds the perimeters, but the entire hilltop illuminates in a glow of lights. With my attention swept up in the house, I don’t notice everyone is already off the boat. Jim reaches for me, offering his hand to help me off. I’m hesitant, because even though the house looks inviting and bright, it still has that major Addams Family feel to it.
“Babe, it’s gonna be fun. I promise.” He can’t promise that. He has no idea the bloodbath that’s waiting for us. “Listen, if you’re feeling uncomfortable, we’ll leave. I’ll fake a stomachache—huge IBS issues—and get everyone back to the lake house.”
I’m not sure if I find his dedication gross or romantic. I lean toward romantic—because, why not?—and allow him to take my hand and escort me onto the dock. We head up the hill, following a rock formed pathway. Outside the glowing lanterns lighting the path, it’s complete darkness. Even though it’s a warm night, there’s still a chill to the air. The trees in the distance whistle, and glowing eyes gleam from the bushes. I squeeze Jim’s hand harder and walk a little bit closer to him. We head up two by two, us being the last. Now, I’m wishing I got off the boat sooner so we wouldn’t be the last couple. This leaves us vulnerable to get taken from behind and hacked with a chainsaw. I pick up the pace and pull Jim along, passing Katie and Jerry.
“Dude, if I knew I was gonna have to walk half a mile to get to this place, I would have opted for a better pair of shoes,” Katie gripes, tugging on Jerry to keep up. I decide not to mention “along with easier to escape in when we all have to run for our lives.” Jim regards me curiously, but I shrug and keep walking. I’ve always loved Katie, but better her than me. I’ve never been to Paris or sky dived. She has—it’s only fair.
By the time we make it to the top, Jerry is wheezing, and I’ve broken into a sweat. We all take in the house, which is gigantic, still screaming, Addams Family lives here!
“I knew it. The lights are a ploy,” I say, studying the mansion, two strange stone creatures sitting on each side of the pillars at the bottom of the steps leading to the front door. Jim squeezes my hand, assuring me everything’s gonna be fine, when the front door opens and the owner steps onto the wrap around porch. “Stop this insanity right now.” The man from earlier today comes out dressed in a vampire costume.
Hell no.
I’m out.
I go to leave, but Jim spins me back around.
“Welcome, welcome. I’m glad to see you’ve made the right decision.”
“Which is what? To die?” I mumble, and Katie kicks me.
“What was that?” the man asks.
Jim tucks me into his side. “She said she could use a glass of wine.” He steps forward, shaking Gomez’s hand, who introduces himself as—weird—Herman.
Smiling, he opens his arms to our group. “Well, you’ve come to the right place. My wife is a wine lover herself. Hope you like a deep red.”
And…I’m out.
Jim grabs me as I pull a one-eighty to run and pulls me forward, forcing me to walk up the stone stairs.
Or not…
As we step over the threshold, I search behind me and see nothing but excited faces. My friends are idiots. Am I seriously the only one with my head on straight? I mean look at—
“Ah, hello! You must be the young group staying at The Rodge Lodge.” An attractive older woman approaches us, dressed to the hilt in black, all but her lips, which are painted a blood red. My mind automatically assumes it’s the blood of their previous victims. Since when did I become so morbid? Since I walked into an episode of the Addams Family.
“And you are?” The woman sticks her hand out, waiting for me to take it. I’m too busy staring back at Morticia, so Katie does the honors, pushing me to the side.
“Hi, I’m Katie. Great place. Super…gothic-chic,” she says, surveying the place, admiring the décor. I give Katie my side-eye. Gothic chic? The place is like a tomb for dead things. The house opens into a large room with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, hence why the darn place was glowing from the outside. But on the inside, gothic wouldn’t be my word of choice. A dreary cemetery is more like it. Besides the large living room and kitchen, I spot an obnoxious number of hallways and stair passageways. Where the heck do all these lead to? Probably death traps. I stay close to the group, making sure I don’t fall through a secret trap door when something catches my attention. Herman begins introducing us all to their other guests. While I vaguely hear introductions for Lurch, Uncle Fester, and Cousin Itt, I walk off until I find myself in an enclosed hallway, the walls covered in hanging glass cases filled with strange… “Is that a head?” I gasp, leaning in closer, trying to figure out if it’s real.
“An old artifact.”
The intruding voice startles the color right out of me. I spin around to see Gomez standing a bit too close for my liking. “Dug right out of the deepest part of Ancient Egypt. Found it myself while doing work in the most secluded desert.” Yeah, where my heart is now since it just exploded out of my chest.
“Wow, you dug up…a head?” My voice is a bit shaky. He looks like he’s mentally measuring the circumference of my head. Frack, he’s probably wanting to see if it would fit in one of these glass cases.
“I did. I was on a trip in Cairo. Thirty-seven-hundred-year-old burial site. Her head was wrapped in cloth. History tells us after her death, they took the ancient steps of mummification. Preserved her. She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” My mouth wants to say something, but it’s too busy catching flies as it hangs open. “Now, come. Let’s get you that wine.”
He extends his arm to lead the way back into the large kitchen area. I take one last glance at the mummy head, hoping I look a little better when my head ends up next to hers.
“Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!” Jason shouts as Wednesday—or, to be fair, Herman’s daughter, Redelle, passes around a tray of shots. Besides having black hair, she also looks nothing like The Addams Family’s daughter, since she stands at a solid six foot plus. The daughter of a linebacker would be more fitting.
Speaking of the Addams Family, it’s funny how one minute I’m fearing for my life, and the next, I’m taking down mystery shots with Uncle Fester, who, in fact, turned out to be a cool dude. Kind of strange and keeps staring at my chest, but he keeps refilling my wine, so it’s all good in my book. I take another swig of my 1943 Chateau Cheval Blanc red blend and scan the crowd for Jim. After having to fend off Red, who kept trying to personally feed him shots, he snuck off to use the bathroom, but has yet to return. I place my empty glass on the counter and walk off in search of him. I’m light on my feet as I take a left down the dark hallway leading toward the bathroom. After spending the last couple hours drinking with Gomez and his family, I’m less worried they’re going to have my head on a platter for tomorrow’s dinner. Black is technically my favorite color, so the dark decor does kind of do it for me. Gothic chic to the core. I giggle at my own agreeance to Katie’s earlier comment and sway on my feet, pressing my open palm against the wall for support. A painting of a medieval graveyard shifts on the wall, and I grab at it before it plummets to the ground. “Yowzers, that was close,” I mumble, picking up the pace and heading farther down the low-lit hall.
I’m not even sure what I’m doing, or why I’m searching Jim out. What do I plan on doing once I find him? Ask him if he needs any help? Make sure he washes his hands like a good little boy?
I burst out in a fit of giggles. Okay, grow up, Casey.
Got it.
I shake it off, putting my mature face back on. The hallway seems to never end as I walk past a handful of doors, opening each, but none leading to the bathroom. I tell myself I should knock, in case he’s doing his thing, but the thought of getting a peep show has me practically throwing my body into each door.
Pervert.
Never said I was anything less.
I chuckle again as I pass a double door entryway. It’s closed, and I’m about to continue walking when the soft strumming sound of a guitar followed up by a low, husky voice filters through the slit beneath the door. There’s a melodramatic tone to it, sad yet beautiful. Knowing I might miss out on Jim and his peepshow, I stop and quietly lean in to steal a peek at who’s inside.
What I wasn’t expecting to find was Jim.
My breath catches when, to my surprise, I see him standing in the back corner, of what seems to be the music museum, holding a guitar in his hands, strumming along the chords while quietly singing. My lips part slightly as I take him in. His voice is beautiful. Melancholy. His fingers glide back and forth as if he’s a master. I’m not familiar with the song, but it seeps into my ears, warming every part of me, down to the tips of my toes.
I’m completely transfixed on his lips, watching him, until a soft hiccup betrays me, and he lifts his head to my presence. “Woops sorry…I, uh…”
He chuckles, placing the guitar on a stand next to him. “By the glaze in your eyes, you want more than just my autograph.”
“No, uh…wow. I didn’t know you could play,” I say, still in a trance.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and peruses along the wall, taking in all the signed photos and memorabilia. “Oh, you know…one of the many things I do, when I’m not jet-setting to Paris or eating fancy steak while gobbling up billion-dollar investments.”
Okay. I felt that jab.
I walk into the room and stop next to him as we both face the wall. He’s admiring a signed Bon Jovi record. “I used to have a huge crush on him when I was a kid,” I say, trying to break the tension.
“You and me both,” he replies. I almost give myself whiplash jerking my head to face him. He chuckles and moves on to the next framed record. “Come on, who didn’t? It’s Bon Jovi. That long hair? The way he made sweet love to that mic. You give looooove a bad name,” he sings the title. I stare at him. More like at his lips. Jesus, where did that voice come from? “Looks like that song did it for you too.”
I snap out of my haze and smack his arm. “I was more of a ‘Living on a Prayer’ kinda girl.” Which is a lie. I’d sing that song to my Bon Jovi poster so hard, I’d cry simply thinking about being his girlfriend.
Jim raises a questioning brow but doesn’t say anything further. He brings his attention back to the wall. “Motley Crue.”
&
nbsp; “Hedonists,” I spit out, knowing the insane backstory of the band and their pleasure-seeking addictions. This time, it’s Jim’s turn to look my way in surprise. “Yeah, yeah. I know my music too, show off. I was huge into them in high school. This one time, I got suspended for refusing to take my fishnet stockings off during gym class. Coach sent me to the principal’s office. Long story short, the school secretary left the intercom unattended and someone started singing, ‘Shout at the Devil’ to the entire school.”
His eyes light up, a smirk so sexy across his face. “You?”
“I still claim my innocence…” I wink and face the shirt with all the band’s signatures.
“Always been trouble I see.”
I shrug. “I guess so.” Also still waiting for it to pay off. You know, the whole live free or die trying motto. I’m living all right, but the whole payout seems to be lost in the mail.
We move on and stop at an autographed Neil Diamond record. In unison, we both sing the chorus of his most famous hit, 'Yesterday'. We cut off, our eyes landing on one another, and bust out laughing.
“My favorite song!” I say.
“Mine too.”
“I mean, Saving Silverman has to be one of the best films to come out of 2001.” I laugh in return. He holds the humor in his eyes, a glint of approval in the way he smiles back at me. There’s no hiding the spark of attraction that’s buzzing between us. We’d both have to be fools to think we can continue to hide the fact that we’re attracted to one another. I’m sure if we touched right in this moment, we’d both get shocked.
“So, uh…” I start, not sure what else to say. What I don’t say is kiss me senseless, because I fear if he did, the high voltage sparking between us, I’d probably electrocute him.
“This place is pretty cool.” He breaks the silence, raking in all the memorabilia.
“Yeah, Jason wasn’t lying when he said they had a music museum. Crazy to think he had all these famous musicians here.”
He nods and continues walking, his eye catching something in the corner of the room. I follow him. Soft explicit words fall from his lips as he reaches down to pick up another guitar. “Holy shit,” he curses, his fingers brushing against the mahogany wood.
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