***
I pulled into my driveway to find Chrissy sitting on the porch swing, waiting for me. She was staring at the ground, her limp black hair covering her face, but I would recognize her anywhere.
“Chrissy, I wasn’t expecting you this early,” I called out to her as I stepped out of the car. She didn’t react.
I sighed, popping the trunk to unload the groceries. Even though I had already spent some time in my car jotting down notes about what happened with Rich, I had still hoped to have another hour or so to decompress. That didn’t appear to be the case. Instead, I’d moved from one difficult encounter to another.
I hoisted the grocery bags, balancing them on my hip while I closed the trunk, and headed up to the porch.
Chrissy stood up as I moved past her to the front door, although she still didn’t look at me. I bit my lip as I took in how loosely her clothes hung on her. Mia was right. She was way too thin. If she didn’t gain some weight soon, she would likely end up hospitalized. Maybe I ought to talk to Margot, her foster mom. How could she let it get this bad?
“You hungry?” I asked. Without waiting for an answer, I bustled around pouring potato chips into a bowl and opening up a sour cream and onion dip, along with a Coke. I knew none of that was healthy but I didn’t care. She just needed calories, empty or otherwise.
I found myself holding my breath as she moved to the table. To my great relief, she helped herself to a couple of chips and dip.
It was a start. Although, the more I watched her, the more convinced I was of the necessity of that chat with Margot. The sooner the better.
The doorbell rang, making me jump. I wiped my hands on a towel. “Are you expecting anyone?”
Chrissy slowly shook her head.
I forced a smile. “Well, I guess I better go see who it is.”
It was Daniel. And he didn’t look happy. Crap.
“Can I come in?”
“Ah,” I threw a quick glance over my shoulder before I could stop myself.
He noticed and started to crane his neck. “Do you have company?”
“Let’s sit on the porch,” I said, trying to push him aside before he saw Chrissy, but it was too late. I saw his eyes darken. “Becca, what in God’s ...”
I shoved him aside so I could step onto the porch as well, and firmly closed the door behind me. “What can I help you with?”
Daniel glared at me. “Have you lost your mind?”
I grabbed his arm to lead him to the porch swing, although neither of us sat down. “Lower your voice. She’ll hear you.”
“There is just so much wrong with this,” Daniel said, much more quietly. “You do see that, right?”
“Have you seen her? She looks awful. She needs me.”
“She needs therapy.”
“Yes, she does, but she also needs to be around people who love her. I don’t know if Margot is doing enough for her. Has she seen a doctor? I need to find out.”
“Talking to Margot is a good idea. Having Chrissy here is not.”
“But ...”
“But, nothing. Chrissy never hurt Margot. And,” he continued over my protests that she wasn’t going to hurt me either, “she’s safer with Margot. Did you think about that? No one has tried to break into Margot’s house.”
I hadn’t considered that. “I guess ... well, I just assumed if there were two of us, we would be safer.”
“What?” Daniel stared at me in horror. “Are you kidding me? You do realize she’s sixteen, right? As the adult, you’re supposed to be keeping her safe, not the other way around.”
I squirmed. “That’s not … look, I would never put her in danger. But, Mia ...”
“Mia? This was her idea?”
“No. I mean, Mia agreed with you I shouldn’t be here alone. I’m just rotating who stays with me.”
“Rotating? What? Becca, when I suggested someone stay with you, I meant an adult.”
“I guess ... I just thought it was only one night. And we haven’t had any problems. I figured if there were two of us, it would be less likely someone would try something. And, yeah, I hear you about Margot’s house and no one trying anything, but she IS with Margot most of the time and she looks like death warmed over. How safe is she there? Truly? I’m just ... I’m just worried about her.”
Daniel sighed. “I know that. But, Becca, you have to see what a bad idea this is. Maybe I should spend the night as well.”
“No!” It came out a more sharply than I intended, and Daniel gave me a surprised look. I couldn’t handle having him in the house with me, not after that kiss. I tried to soften my words with a smile. “It’s supposed to be a girl’s night. You don’t want to be here.”
“God,” he rubbed his forehead. “You call me, then. I don’t care what time it is. You hear or see anything suspicious, I mean anything, you call.”
“Scout’s honor,” I said. “Phone will be with me at all times.”
He looked only slightly mollified.
“So,” I said quickly, wanting to take advantage of this pause to change the subject. “Is this why you stopped by? To check on my safety?”
“Well, partly,” he said, looking away. If I didn’t know better, I would say he seemed flustered. “Actually, I have something else to talk to you about. Are you busy tomorrow?”
I paused. Was I busy? I wasn’t, but I also wasn’t sure I wanted to see him. “I should be able to make something work,” I said cautiously.
“What about dinner?”
Dinner? Was he asking me out on a date? “You want to have dinner with me?” I said stupidly.
He grinned then, lighting up his entire face and causing my heart to leap into my throat. “Well, we both have to eat. So, why not dinner?”
“Okay,” I found myself saying, mostly because I couldn’t figure out a good reason not to.
“Great. I’ll pick you up at seven?”
“Ah, why don’t I meet you somewhere?” That seemed safer. Then I didn’t have to worry about things like him walking me to my door, or worse yet, having him come inside. I had no intention of being in an empty house with him until I sorted out precisely what my feelings were—about him, about dating, about relationships, about everything.
He smiled again, a little wolfishly, almost like he was reading my mind. I could feel my cheeks start to burn. “How about The Terrace?” he suggested.
The Terrace? That was Redemption’s fanciest restaurant. Why would he want to go there unless ... it was a date. “What’s wrong with Aunt May’s?”
He cocked his head. “You really want an audience while we eat?”
Good point. “Are you sure you want to go there?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to go to The Terrace?”
Crap. Was he really going to make me say it? “Because that’s where you would take ... a date.”
“That’s true.” He regarded me thoughtfully. “But it’s also a great place to go if you’re looking for privacy.”
Is that what this was about? Privacy? I didn’t know if I felt relieved or disappointed.
“Although,” Daniel continued, smiling that lopsided grin again. “Would it be so terrible if it were a date?”
“Does that mean it is a date?”
He shrugged. “We can talk about that tomorrow, too. See you at seven.” Before I could answer, he turned and headed back to his car.
Great. Just great.
Chapter 17
In the darkness, I heard the rasp of a match being struck. A moment later, three candles burst into flame. Black, red, and white.
Black to vanquish the bad energy. Red to draw in fresh, new energy. White for truth.
Aunt Charlie shook the match, blowing it out. She leaned forward so the candles lit her face from below, throwing dark, jagged shadows against her face. “Have yo
u remembered yet?”
I scowled at her. “I’m trying.”
Aunt Charlie sighed. “You’re running out of time.”
“Then why don’t you tell me?”
She sat down heavily. I, too found myself sitting, at the kitchen table across from her. The flames from the candles danced between us. “It doesn’t work like that.”
“Why not?”
“It just doesn’t.” She stared directly into my eyes. “This is something you have to remember yourself.”
I was feeling more and more grumpy. “Sounds like a cop-out,” I muttered.
She shrugged. “Perhaps. But that doesn’t change anything.”
“Whatever,” I grumbled, reminding myself of Chrissy.
As if reading my mind, Aunt Charlie shot me a disapproving look. “You must do a better job of reaching that girl.”
“What girl?” Although I knew who she was talking about.
“What girl do you think? Chrissy. She’s wasting away.”
“I know. I’m doing my best to reach her. I’m going to talk to Margot. What else should I do?”
“You’re not trying hard enough,” Aunt Charlie pursed her lips. “Things are going to get much worse for that child and, if you don’t do something soon, she might not make it.”
I felt an icy chill run down my back. “What do you mean ‘she might not make it’?”
Aunt Charlie leaned forward, the flames flickering in her eyes. “What do you think I mean?” Her voice had an ominous edge to it.
Oh God. I couldn’t let anything happen to Chrissy. I just couldn’t. “Could you maybe share some specifics?”
Aunt Charlie shook her head. “If you don’t remember, none of it matters.”
My irritation came back. “I told you, I’m trying. It’s not working and I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”
“Have you lit the candles?” She swept her hand over the table in a grand gesture, the flames eagerly leaping up in response.
I made a face. Candles? Really? “No, I haven’t had a chance to buy any.”
“You don’t have to buy them.”
“If I don’t buy them, then how am I going to light them?”
She chuckled softly. “Ah, Becca. Sometimes you can be so willfully ignorant.”
“Have you seen the devil yet?” A different voice broke in as I opened my mouth to argue. Pat leaned forward from where she sat next to Aunt Charlie, twisted, dark shadows against her face.
“Um ...”
“The devil,” Pat hissed. “It’s here.”
Aunt Charlie turned to her. “Not now, Pat. You’ll scare the girl. She’s already moving too slowly.”
“You mean the devil really is here?” I broke in, my voice ending in a squeak. The flames grew higher, almost like they were laughing. The metallic taste of fear crawled through my throat.
Both women looked at me. “Of course it is,” Aunt Charlie said gently. “What do you think happened to Bear?”
“And to me?” Pat asked, pounding on the table. The flames stretched and grew, almost brushing the ceiling.
“Or to Jessica?”
“And,” Pat stood up, hands on the table, leaning toward me. Her eyes glittered with fire and madness. “What precisely do you think will happen to Chrissy?”
I awoke with a gasp. It was so dark that, for a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was. Was I still in the kitchen? Did the candles get blown out?
No, I was in my bed, sticky with sweat and twisted up in the blankets.
I untangled myself and got up. Oscar raised his head to watch me, his dark-green eyes faintly glowing, reflecting the dim light of the moon that slanted across the floor.
“At least you’re okay,” I said. He yawned, displaying an impressive array of teeth. I got the feeling he was letting me know he could take care of himself.
I headed to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my sweaty face when I noticed that the door to Chrissy’s room was pushed open a crack.
I stopped dead in the hallway, my mouth suddenly flooded with the metallic taste of fear. Just like my dream.
What precisely do you think will happen to Chrissy?
Oh God. Did this mean Chrissy was sleepwalking again? Or did Chrissy just not close the door all the way before going to sleep?
I crept down the hallway and gently pushed the door open to peer in, not wanting to wake her if she was sleeping.
No such luck. The room was deserted.
Well, maybe she wasn’t sleepwalking. Maybe she was just getting a drink of water or, even better, a midnight snack. But the pit of my stomach disagreed. The covers were thrown back the way they were the last time she had been sleepwalking.
Oh God, this couldn’t be happening again.
Could she be faking? I wondered as I padded down the stairs. It wouldn’t be the first time she had faked something. Although I don’t think she had ever faked sleepwalking.
But why would she? Stefan was in prison. What could she possibly stand to gain?
I shivered as I remembered the last sleepwalking episode—her empty eyes peering at me, the way her voice had changed, the distinct feeling that I was in the presence of a being other than Chrissy—something older and darker.
The evil that had been done.
How would she have even known about that?
I found her standing in the middle of the family room, as still as a statue, facing the bookshelves. The moon filled the room with a faint, silvery glow. I sucked in my breath. It was like we had gone back in time, before the hospital, before Stefan had betrayed me, betrayed both of us. She looked like an angel, with her long dark hair falling like a black waterfall down her back, and her pale skin shimmering in the moonlight.
“About time you got here,” she said, without looking at me. The taste of fear spread down my throat, curling up like a snake in the pit of my stomach.
That voice. Dark and smoky and ancient. It brought everything back.
She can’t be faking it. Can she?
I pushed away my inner doubts and took a step closer. “Chrissy, let’s go back to bed.” Maybe if I ignored it, this would all go away.
Her head slowly turned to stare at me. Her half-open eyes were blank and cold. I stopped, licking my suddenly dry lips. She looked like a skeleton standing there in the moonlight.
“You’re running out of time,” she said.
I reminded myself how it didn’t make any sense to have a conversation with a sleepwalker. “Maybe we talk about this tomorrow,” I suggested, taking another step closer. “It’s late. We should go back to bed.”
“You’re not listening to me,” she hissed, jerking her arm back, shocking me to stillness. She had never reacted like that before. “You’re running out of time.”
“Time for what?” I asked, before I could stop myself.
“Time to stop the evil that has been done.”
The dread curling in my stomach tightened its grip. “What evil?”
She smiled, a smile as cold and empty as her eyes. “You know.”
A surge of irritation rose up inside me. “No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me, so I can stop it?”
Her smile widened, revealing a hint of her teeth. “You know.” The moonlight glinted off her tooth, and suddenly she looked like a monster. Involuntarily, I gasped, taking a step back.
And just as suddenly, her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she collapsed. I lunged toward her, barely catching her before she hit the floor.
She was lighter than I remembered as I eased her to the ground. That settled it—I was definitely talking to Margot tomorrow.
What precisely do you think will happen to Chrissy?
I shivered, jolting Chrissy. She stirred, her eyelids fluttering open. “Becca?” Her voice was Chrissy’s again,
but a younger, more innocent version. Before her father had corrupted and tainted her.
“I’m here, sweetheart.” I brushed her limp hair away from her hollowed-out cheek, her pale skin stretched tight across her elegant high cheekbones.
Her eyes popped open. “Becca? What ...? Where am I?” She struggled to sit up, to push herself away from me but it was like battling a kitten. I didn’t know if she was really that weak or if she was still half asleep.
“You were sleepwalking again,” I said, gently.
Her eyes went round with horror. “Again? Oh no.” She slumped in my arms.
“Let’s get you upstairs and we can talk about it in the morning.”
She allowed me to lead her up the stairs and back to bed. My mind was flooded with questions.
What did it mean that she was sleepwalking again? Was there something medically wrong with her? Should I take her to a doctor? Was it a reaction to stress? Lord knows she was under a ton of stress when she was under her father’s influence.
Or was there something else going on? Something darker …
I tucked her back into her bed, wondering if maybe what I really ought to do is start sleeping in my aunt’s—no, my master bedroom—and move Chrissy to the room I was in now.
I fetched a cool washcloth, a glass of water and the bottle of ibuprofen for Chrissy, suddenly realizing it had been weeks since I’d had a headache. Could it be because I switched my allergy medicine?
But I used to have headaches in New York, too. And I didn’t have an allergy problem in New York.
I was distracted from this line of thought by Chrissy moaning and writhing on the bed. I rushed to her side. “What’s wrong? Do I need to call an ambulance?”
“No, I’m fine. Just leave me alone.” She weakly pushed my hand away.
“You’re not fine. What’s going on? Did you hurt yourself?” I tried to examine her, but that just agitated her more.
“No. Just stop. Leave me alone. I don’t want you here.”
“Chrissy, you’re not being reasonable,” I said, trying to sound firm. “You’re practically wasting away, and you were sleepwalking again. Have you seen a doctor? What does your foster mother say?”
Secrets of Redemption Box Set Page 48