“Shh,” I say, stopping his lips with my fingers. All thoughts have left me. I want this. To let him know I care for him too. To be close and feel something else besides panic and fear.
Todd’s hands secure my waist, gentle and barely pressing at first, and then he tugs me onto his lap. My breathing shakes more than ever, and to my surprise, the house makes no sound of protest. This is happening. And with Todd.
His eyes deepen with a sleepy, yielding light as he cups my jaw and brushes his lips against mine. The soft touch is like a match on gunpowder. Only instead of triggering more fireworks, the explosions take on a gooey texture and trickle all over me, like liquid sparklers.
The kiss doesn’t last long, and it’s not what I expect it to be, although I’m not sure what that is. I’m not even sure what I’m doing. His mouth is soft. It takes a few seconds figuring out how to move mine against it, but after a few tries we get the motion down before breaking apart.
He’s not shouting, “Gross!” or shoving me off, so I take that as a good sign. My hands hover. Todd doesn’t seem to have the same problem. His fingers rest on my thigh and my lower back.
His lips leave echoes on mine. I ache to have him back, but I want to know what he’s thinking before I do anything else.
“I can’t believe we’ve never done that before,” he finally says, touching his forehead to mine. Our breathing intermingles, and every part of his body calls me to move closer. As if he senses the same thing, his hands tighten around me. I meet his gaze. His breath brushes down my cheek.
“Come here,” he says, moving his mouth toward mine again. This time I’m more prepared for the feel of his lips, and yet I’m not prepared at all. They move slightly faster, and each of their traces sends tingles down my legs. They slow and open against mine, and I’m definitely not prepared for his tongue touching mine, though it makes me want to cleave harder to him than I ever have to anyone before.
A light gleams through my open bedroom door, illuminating the hallway. I grip Todd’s shoulders and pull away.
“Joel?” I say, breathless. Shadows play on the wainscoting, inching toward the glow coming from my open door.
“He’s not here,” Todd mumbles against my throat in a low, husky voice. His palm is at my lower back, pulling me into him.
But his embrace doesn’t have the effect I know it should. I’m too distracted. The light is there, but it isn’t changing anything. Todd is still shadowed in my room’s dim lamplight. He gives me a confused glance.
“What is it?” he asks.
I peck a quick kiss to his mouth and climb from his lap, roiling with unease.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hints of orange filter through the light, and though I step through it, my skin remains shaded. Voices rumble in the stillness, and I slam against the wall at the sight of two people arguing at the mouth of the stairs.
“Meet with me tomorrow,” Thomas says, catching Ada in the landing between the four upstairs rooms. He is as handsome as the first time I saw him and wears the same cream shirt, brown vest, and pants. This time Ada has a black, floor-length dress with a white apron and a white cap covering her tightly pulled back hair.
She fiddles with the lump of bloodied sheets in her hands. Some blood also smears on her cheek. “I cannot. You know I cannot.”
“Why? Have you given your heart to him after all?”
Ada looks to the door labeled Staff Only. “You know that is impossible.”
“Yet you will be his,” Thomas says as if he can’t believe it. I attempt to follow who they’re talking about. And why she’s holding bloody sheets. I peer back at Todd, but he’s lowered himself onto the pillow at his back. A lazy smile curves his lips. Go back to him. Don’t worry about Ada and Thomas. But I resist.
“You know he cares little for propriety where society is concerned,” Ada says. “The only reason he is revered and invited to events is for his money. It would be nothing for him to take a servant as his wife.”
Thomas grips Ada’s arms. His brow is a firm line. “And have you?”
Ada’s pouty mouth drops. “How dare you?” She tries to wiggle free.
“You cannot,” Thomas says with clenched teeth. His eyes gleam with a threatening dark edge. He turns away from her, one hand at his hip, the other in a fist at the wall. “I’ll die first.”
“This is how things are,” Ada says.
Shivers crawl along the backs of my arms. I shudder, remembering her voice say those exact words that first time in the basement. So it was her.
“We may not like it, but two servants in love can do very little where their master is concerned.”
Thomas faces her again. This time, a twinkle lays in his blue eyes, and a smile quirks at the corner of his mouth. “You do love me.”
Silence pulses between them. Ada never breaks from his gaze. Her irises dart between his. I’m warm from my knee-knocking kiss with Todd, but at the look they share, the temperature goes up a few more degrees.
“Heart and soul,” she says through her teeth, “and may I burn for the admission.”
“Then come away with me. This is America. We have just fought the war of all wars, freeing the slaves in the South. Who says we cannot have freedom as well?”
Ada shakes her head, clinging to the bloodied sheet in her trembling arms. “You know what he is capable of as well as I. We cannot attempt to run and remain unscathed.”
Thomas’ eyes grapple over her face and then his mouth crashes down on hers. Her eyes pop open for one tiny second and then she drops the sheet and wraps her arms around him, returning the kiss. Thomas forces her backward until she bumps into the wall.
“Then scathe me till I die,” he mutters against her mouth. His hands trace over her face like he’s trying to take in as much of her as he can.
Ada pushes him away, breathing heavily, and looks in both directions. She readjusts her white cap and picks up the sheet from the floor. “I’ll not be the cause of your death, Thomas. I tell you now, it cannot be.”
He huffs, hands at his sides. “So you will go on as we are now.”
Tears well in her eyes and her lip wobbles. She keeps one hand on the brass knob. “I will, so help me. Until the stars fall, I will.” And she pushes through the service door to the servants’ staircase, leaving Thomas alone in the hall.
Todd’s hand slips around my waist from behind, startling me. I let out a small squeal, wheeling in his hold until my chest flushes with his. My legs wobble.
“It’s just us,” he whispers in my ear. “What are you looking at?”
The hallway darkens, as if nothing happened out here minutes before. I’m overwhelmed. By Todd, by what I just saw. The house creaks, and I rip away from him, clenching my fists at the movement.
In seconds Todd’s arms are around me again. “What is it?” he whispers, but doesn’t wait for the answer. He moves his mouth close to mine. His breath brushes my cheek, but I’m too focused on wondering who they are and why I keep seeing them. I put a hand on his chest. He pulls back, a muscle twitching in his jaw.
“We’d better get to sleep,” I say, dashing to my bed. I want to kiss Todd again, but I have to think, to process why I’m seeing these visions. I’ve lived in this house my whole life, so why now? My breathing is double-time, and I have feelings going on that I can’t quite explain.
“Okay,” Todd says, sounding puzzled. He plunks down on the blankets with an arm resting on each knee.
I’m trying to regain my bearings. I rope my hair across my shoulder and twist it. We kissed. Holy moly, I kissed Todd.
“I just—” I don’t know what to even say. I just saw two people who used to be servants in my house kissing, too. And one of them eventually got boarded up alive here and died.
“Don’t.” He runs a hand through his rumpled black curls. “I don’t get you lately, Pipe. Not at all.”
Pipe? Seriously?
“You’re mad because I didn’t want to make out with you?”
“A little! You give me all these weird signals lately, you’re mad at me earlier, then you cling to me like I’m Hercules after seeing your mom. You beg me to sleep here. You kiss me and then just—” He scoffs like he doesn’t know what else to say. “I just wish I knew what was up with you.”
“You’re not the only one,” I say, burying my head into my hands. If only he knew half of it.
“You know what? Whatever. The phrase ‘like kissing my sister’ has a whole new meaning.”
His words stab straight through me. “What does that mean? You’re the one who kissed me!”
“Forget it,” he says, standing up. “I’m going to go brush my teeth.”
“Why, because I tasted so gross?”
He mutters something under his breath, but heads out through the darkened hallway.
I sit in my covers and gawk at the floral wallpaper in my bedroom. Todd’s right, something is off with me lately. But that look in his eyes…he wanted to do it as much as I did. He said it was like kissing his sister, but it couldn’t have been.
As far as first kisses go, it was pretty awesome for me. His mouth, his touch, the ultra-electric tension sizzling between us—everything was perfect. I don’t get why everything has to go screwy now.
And Ada, and Thomas. I shake it off, try not to think about them. Even if I knew what was going on, there’s nothing I can do about it. They died a long time ago.
Every time I close my eyes Mom charges at me again, jolting my lids open so I can’t escape the image. Todd’s gentle breathing is a staple in the silence. I consider kicking him awake, spewing more of the crazy truth, but I’m too drained. He probably wouldn’t want to hear it anyway, not after basically telling me he regretted our kisses.
I know Joel isn’t here, but I go into his room anyway, as if being there will help me feel closer to him or figure out where he’s gone. I wish I knew where he was.
Though it lacks any modern touches—except for the guitar leaning against the dresser—his room is pretty similar to mine. The same four-poster bed, the wash table with a porcelain bowl at its top. Striped wallpaper, floral rug, clouds painted on the ceiling. Moonlight spilling through the window reflects from the full-length mirror in the corner near Joel’s fireplace.
I’d thought this would make me feel better, that maybe being in his room I’d get some idea of where he is. But I’m struck with how alone I am in the darkened space, my only company the sliver of light spearing down the center of the rug from a gap in the curtains.
More than anything at this moment, I wish for my mother. Her smile, her patient way of explaining simple concepts like how to tie my shoes, the night she snuck a sandwich in to me because Dad had sent me to bed without dinner—they all strike my chest like the reverberation of standing too near thunder or directly under a colossal display of fireworks.
I sink to my knees at the side of Joel’s bed, cleaving to one of the four posts, unable to stand under the weight of who my mother has become, what she did. What she’s lost because of it.
Pain so sudden strikes my chest; a mingle-mangle of hatred, betrayal, longing. Sadness. I reach for Joel’s phone on his marble-topped nightstand. His phone. His phone shouldn’t be here—it should be wherever he is. Thoughts pile one on top of the other, and the worry I felt for him last night gushes in again, worry so thick it cakes in my chest like mortar.
Maybe if Joel didn’t have to take care of me he wouldn’t have disappeared like this. If Mom were around, Joel wouldn’t have so much pressure on him. I scroll along his contact list through tear-streaked eyes, as if seeing all these names would give me any explanations. And the anger grows because I know the one name I won’t find among the myriad of others.
Marian Crenshaw. Mom.
In a fit of rage I cry out and chuck the phone as hard as I can. It bangs to the wall with a heavy thud. Words claw from my throat, caged, distressed animals dying for freedom at last:
“Why aren’t you here? WHY AREN’T YOU HERE?”
I fall to the floor, sobbing. Before I know it, Todd’s arms crash around me, restraining and protecting.
“Shh,” he soothes.
“Why did she leave me?” I ask, clinging to him. And it’s no surprise that he has no answer, because I have none either.
He holds me there forever and not at all at the same time because flashes of her deranged eyes, her lurid riddles, they take me to some other realm, a realm where nothing else exists but me and these unanswered questions.
“You okay?” Todd asks.
I do a weird sort of nod as I lay on his chest on Joel’s bed, hearing the steady thrum of his heart. “Sorry you had to see that.”
“Piper. ‘Sorry’ does not even apply to what I’m sure you’re going through right now. I was a wreck when my dad left. It’s like parents condemn you to a never-ending baggage claim when they do crap like that, where the thing just keeps spinning and spinning and you have no choice but to keep collecting carry-ons.”
I chuckle, snuggling in closer to him. “In that case, I’m hauling around the entire plane.” A short pause ticks. “How did you get through it?” I ask him. “Your dad leaving.”
“I don’t know. I just did.”
“That helps a lot.”
He laughs. “I’m not really qualified to give a diagnosis for this stuff.”
“I already know what my problem is. I need the solution.”
He breathes in deeply, and his chest rises, lifting my cheek with it. “Football helps. Staying active. That way I know if he ever comes around again I can hold my own if he tries anything.”
I’m not really in the mood to take on any more heavy subjects, so I skip back to his first comment. Football. “I’ll just take up pro sports, then.”
“You? Playing sports?”
“Hey, it could happen.”
“Yeah, and I’ll take up dressing in drag.”
We both laugh again, and I savor the safety I feel in his embrace. Todd hugs his arms around me and presses a kiss to my temple. “Look, this might be bad timing, but I’ll be right back. Nature calls.”
I sit up, watching his form move in the darkness. I don’t want to be alone right now, but I don’t really have another option. Since my breakdown my chest feels lighter, like a huge load has been lifted. Mom is gone. She did what she did. And maybe I’ll never know why, but it helps to have this extraordinary impression of relief.
I realize I’m glad the kids at school know about it. Now I have nothing to hide. I don’t have to be ashamed.
I take a breath, staring across the floral rug. Joel’s lamp offers a pale glow to the room. The wash table and its porcelain bowl stand as sentinel beside the door. I stare at the decorative etching along the wash table’s front panel. Any minute now Todd will come back in, I tell myself. He’ll be right back.
Noises scrape along the wall. My body tightens, heart drumming against my ribs. Oh no—the house; our kiss. It is upset after all. Please don’t land us in the basement. I can’t bear to go down there again.
Fear ripples over me, and more creaking noises come from the wall, but this time it sounds like they’re coming from outside.
Fighting my inclination to stay put, I dip my toes to the floor, pressing my tongue to the top of my mouth to keep from screaming at the mere thought of something attacking from below the bed.
I force my steps, pulse thrashing like the repeated shots of a gun. Fingers quaking, I part the curtain and peer into the darkness outside. It could be Todd, playing a prank on me or something.
The pounding in my body fades, and I become enraged. Jordan and Sierra are climbing a ladder leaning against my house. A ladder leading directly to the floating door.
No doubt, they have no ide
a Todd is here. They probably wouldn’t dare do something like this with him around.
I crank open Joel’s window, getting a breeze of cool air. Sierra swears, and Jordan steps on her hand, nearly dropping the axe in his. My pulse catches, and I think of the fake profile picture. An axe. They’ve got to be joking.
“What are you doing?” I ask, though it’s obvious. Come on, Todd. Hurry back so they can see you here. On the other hand, that might not be a good idea, to see him with me in a darkened bedroom. I scald inside at the memory of his kiss.
Jordan grins. Grins! “Out for a stroll,” he says.
He must be here because I called. Because he knows Joel is gone. “I told you that door doesn’t open. Get out of here or—”
“Or what? You’ll sic your freaky house on us?”
“I’ll call the cops!”
He keeps climbing. “How do you know it doesn’t open? You’re too scared to try it.” Then his voice lowers, and I hear him mumble, “Keep climbing, Sierra.”
“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she mutters, her glance darting to me. The dark night is thick, but I peel my eyes for some sign of acne on her. I can’t tell if it’s still there or not.
“It’s all a hoax. The freakiest thing about her house is her!”
Eyes twisted in a glare, he climbs until he reaches the door. At the exact moment his hand touches it, something brushes my side. The hairs on my arms raise, like a feather trickles over them.
Panic cords through me like a prickly web. I stare behind me. But I’m alone in the room. Todd, where are you?
“We’ll see if nothing is in it,” Jordan says, lifting the axe. My stomach leaps in my throat. He wouldn’t dare.
“Don’t!” I shout. But it’s too late. The blade hacks into the side of my house with a thwack. And I gag, slamming into the wall. Pain screams at my side, and I goggle at the warm, dark wetness on my hands.
Todd strides into the room, rubbing his hands together. “Who are you yelling at—Piper!”
My stomach slick with blood, I blank out and barrel over the window ledge.
The Forbidden Doors Box Set Page 16