"Hey, what could be better than being invited to a picnic by the bay on a sunny afternoon?" she teased. By the hottest and definitely most charming guy in town.
"Maybe this..." he said, and leaned over to kiss her.
Peyton closed her eyes, feeling certain she had died and gone to heaven right then. His lips were soft and the kiss amazing.
When she opened her eyes, Bryant was gazing at her.
"Well, was I right?"
Peyton's pulse was racing. "Yes, you were."
"Do you wanna try it again?"
"You have to ask?"
He smiled and they kissed again, keeping it going for what seemed to Peyton like forever.
She wondered if the tingling feelings that had surrounded her like a magical mist were the first stages of falling in love.
* * *
Later they stood by the water, putting their bare feet in as if to test the temperature. It felt just right to Peyton and she ventured a little further in with Bryant so the water came up to their ankles.
"I've been asking around about the girl you described," Bryant said.
"And...?" Peyton was more than a little curious.
"Came up with zilch. Whoever you saw down there, she's not from around here."
Maybe so and maybe no. Peyton twisted her lips thoughtfully. "You're probably right."
Bryant's eyes widened. "Still think you saw someone?"
Peyton stared at the question, feeling the heat of his gaze. She went against her true feelings for fear of turning him off.
"I don't know. I probably just lost it down there, not used to the bay and all.
"It can happen," he said, seemingly buying her explanation.
But why did it have to happen to me? And why was it still happening?
Peyton changed the subject. "So do you have friends here?"
"Yeah, a few."
"Male friends?" She looked at him.
"Some. Why? Getting tired of me already?"
Peyton chuckled. "Hardly! I was just wondering because I have a friend, Lily, who's in Shadow Bay for the summer--just down the street. She wants to meet a cute guy.
He grinned. "Cute guy, huh?"
Peyton flushed. "That a problem?"
"Not at all." Bryant grinned. "Is she as pretty as you?"
Peyton kicked water at him. "No!"
"Didn't think so." He kicked water back her way.
"But pretty enough for someone other than you."
Bryant laughed. "Hey, don't worry. I like you, Peyton. We'll find someone else for Lily."
He really does like me, beyond the kisses. Peyton was jubilant.
She looked forward to giving Lily the news.
"I like you, too, Bry."
"Yeah?"
Peyton got courageous and kissed him, holding his cheeks with her hands. "Does that answer your question?"
"Sure does."
"Thought so."
They exchanged more kisses before getting out of the water.
"I guess we should probably head back now," Bryant said. "I've gotta feed Hugh."
And I've got to go back to a house where my mother and stepfather are becoming more and more like strangers to me.
Not to mention some other possible inhabitants.
Peyton hid her dissatisfaction. "I suppose you're right. I've got a few unfinished chores, too."
Bryant walked her to the porch. Peyton was certain that their goodbyes would probably be interrupted. But, thankfully, no one came out.
"I had a great time," he said.
"Yeah, so did I." If she could, Peyton would have shouted it to the world.
Bryant looked down at her face. "Maybe next week we can check out a movie."
"That sounds good." Peyton imagined that going anywhere with him was something she was sure to enjoy.
"Cool." He smiled and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "Bye."
"See you later, Bry."
Peyton could still feel the tingle of Bryant's mouth on hers long after she had gone inside. He was a great kisser and so much more. The summer was taking on a new meaning for Peyton in romantic ways she had not anticipated when they moved to Shadow Bay.
But even that wasn't enough to keep her from feeling that something was very wrong in this household. And she doubted it would go away easily.
No more than the mysterious girl, who seemed determined to keep Peyton guessing.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Following a morning run the next day, Peyton returned to the house. With Vance at work, she expected her mother would be working in her office. But she wasn't there or in the kitchen.
Peyton wondered if maybe her mother wasn't feeling well and had stayed in bed.
But she wasn't in her room.
Since her mother's car was outside, Peyton knew she hadn't gone into town.
So where could she be?
Not that Peyton wanted to sound the alarm bells or anything. Then again, maybe she should.
Maybe that girl in the mirror had done something bad to her mother.
For an instant, Peyton considered the possibility that her mother might have gone to see Luke, even if it seemed somewhat out of character. But her mother hadn't exactly been in character of late and she did seem to like Luke and vice versa.
"Mom...are you home?" Peyton called out.
"Up here," Melody answered in a hollow voice.
"Where's here?"
"The attic."
Peyton ambled towards door that led to the attic. She had gone up there once after they first moved in, but found it too drab, cluttered, dusty, and plain old creepy to want to go up again anytime soon.
She spotted her mother practically buried between boxes.
"What are you doing in here?"
"I thought I'd come up to see if I could straighten out some of this mess." Melody sighed. "Instead, I found a treasure trove."
"Such as?"
"Clothing that looks like it could still be worn today." She stood up, holding something. "And pictures that speak of the history of this house and its occupants. Like this one--"
Peyton saw the back of an antique wooden frame. Her mother turned it around, revealing an old black and white photograph of a family. Upon closer inspection, Peyton was taken aback, putting a hand to her mouth.
The man, woman, and girl in the picture were the same ones in her dreams. Peyton was sure of it, honing in on the girl in particular.
So I wasn't losing my mind. Not exactly anyway.
"What is it, Peyton?"
"I've seen them," she said.
"Who?"
Peyton pointed at the photograph.
Her mother looked at it again and back to Peyton. "Where?"
She sighed, almost afraid to say. "In my dreams..."
Melody's brow creased. "That's not possible, honey."
"Yes, it is!" Peyton shook. "That girl...is the one I saw in the bay...and--" She held up from revealing that she'd also seen her in the mirror.
Melody sat the picture down and touched Peyton's cheek. "We agreed that whoever or whatever you saw in the bay was either a neighborhood girl or--"
"No, you agreed, Mom--with Vance," Peyton snapped. "Bry asked around and didn't come up with anyone who fit the description or is even missing from around here."
"Then maybe it was something else," her mother suggested. "Like a log or--"
"A dead person--" Peyton's eyes grew large.
Melody stiffened. "Listen to me, honey, if the girl you say you saw in the bay was dead, then she wouldn't be the same girl in the picture. Why, it must be at least fifty years old."
"I meant dead, as in a ghost," Peyton said uneasily. "I know it sounds crazy, but I think her ghost is haunting this house...haunting me."
Melody sighed. "There's no such thing as ghosts."
"How do you know?"
"I just do."
"But what if you're wrong?" Peyton challenged.
Her mother peered. "Why on earth would this girl haun
t you, Peyton?"
"I don't know. Maybe because she was killed by her father--along with mother and another man--and can't find peace or something."
Peyton had read once about spirits trapped in a void between life and the afterlife because of unsettled issues. But never really believed it was possible till now.
"You have a vivid imagination, Peyton. But that doesn't make it right."
"I saw it in my dreams...nightmares..." Peyton sucked in a deep breath. "I'm sure it really happened--in this house in another time."
Melody frowned. "It did not happen, sweetheart! And the people in the photo are not the ones in your nightmare. Haunted houses and restless spirits simply do not exist in the real world, no matter how much you may want to believe they do. You couldn't have dreamt about a family who lived in this house many years ago. For one thing, they may all still be alive today and much older than the people in your dreams."
"You think so?" Peyton hadn't considered that. Was it possible her mind was playing tricks on her? And that no one was really murdered in this house?
"Why not, if they had a normal life span and the picture was taken within the last fifty years or so," her mother speculated. "Certainly the girl would not be a teenager anymore. She could be a mother or even a grandmother today."
"Maybe you're right," Peyton allowed, though still not convinced.
"I know I am." Melody's eyes crinkled. "Now that's enough in this attic for today, I think. Let's go get something to drink."
She took Peyton's hand and led her out of the attic.
Peyton looked over her shoulder at the picture sitting on a small table, seemingly staring back at her. She wondered if it was truly possible to dream--or even daydream--images that seemed to resemble real people she had never met. Or dream about people who actually lived in the house in another time, but in some ways never left.
* * *
Caitlyn watched as Peyton and her mother left the attic. She moved over to the picture, studying it like she once had her schoolbooks. The photo was taken when the family had gone to visit her aunt in Michigan. Everything seemed so happy and loving then.
But it would soon all fall apart. Everything she had dreamt for her family had been destroyed. So had her future.
And now it was happening all over again. A new family had assumed all the dark forces that existed in the house. History was bound to make the same mistakes with deadly consequences, unless she could combine forces with Peyton to defeat the enemy within. But it would not be easy, for Caitlyn's father was as angry and vindictive today as he was so very long ago, as though time had stood still.
Caitlyn refused to back away from her self-appointed mission to make the outcome different this time. It would soon all come to a head and she prayed that the curse would be broken forever.
Caitlyn suddenly froze when she sensed her father coming. He would be very upset if he found her in the attic where she wasn't allowed.
With great willpower, the girl vanished, just as a looming figure appeared. He scowled while looking around. His eyes focused on the framed photograph. Whereas once the picture had meant everything to him, now it only inflamed his hatred.
He made a sweeping motion with his arm, knocking the picture over.
She would pay again for what she had done. Pay dearly. And only then might he exact some retribution.
For now, he intended to keep an eye not on only his family, but the new ones who occupied the premises.
Right up to the day they died.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Do you believe in ghosts?" Peyton asked Lily the following afternoon.
They were sitting in a café eating ice cream. She had hesitated to broach the subject with her new friend, but decided to anyhow.
Lily batted her eyes. "You mean like spirits who only come out at night?"
"Yeah. Or even during the day."
"You're serious?"
Maybe she'll think I'm nuts. "Well, some people do believe in that stuff, you know."
Lily spooned a generous scoop of ice cream from her banana split. "I guess I don't really believe that ghosts are lurking around us, but I'm not saying it's impossible. Why? Did you see a ghost?"
Peyton swallowed a spoonful of strawberry ice cream. She thought about the girl in the bay, mirror, and her dreams. Was she just a figment of my imagination? Or was she something more ghostly?
Was it was possible the girl in the photo and the girl Peyton had seen with her very own eyes were one and the same?
"I might have..." she said.
Lily's eyes widened. "Really? Where?"
Peyton told her. "Then my mom found this decades old photograph in the attic that had a girl in it who looked just like the one I saw."
"Wow!" Lily sat back and stuck her spoon in the banana. "So you think this girl is after you, or what?"
"I don't know. I thought she was trying to hurt me in the bay, but maybe not. Maybe she just wanted to get my attention...you know, sort of like to keep her company, or maybe help her somehow."
Peyton checked herself, realizing how this must have sounded to Lily. "I know I'm babbling--" If she ran away from me as quickly as she could right now, I wouldn't blame her.
Lily tossed back her hair. "This is pretty much over my head, but my Nana is into ghosts and supernatural stuff."
"Really?"
"Well, she's not a ghost hunter or anything, but she definitely believes that spirits exist all around us. Nana's told me lots of stories over the years."
Peyton was intrigued. "Think I could talk her about it sometime? Maybe she could help me understand what's going on here."
"Sure. But be careful what you ask for. My grandmother's pretty lonely, though she'll never admit it, and will talk your head off if you let her."
Peyton laughed. "Sounds like my friend Erica. She lives in San Diego and boy can she talk."
"Do you want to go to the bookstore?" Lily was clearly ready to move past the ghost chat. "We can get some coffee and people watch."
"Sure, I'm game." Peyton was only too happy to enjoy some girlfriend fun, without the specter of ghosts and evil spirits hanging over her like a dark cloud.
* * *
That evening Peyton was sitting at the dining room table for dinner. Her mother and stepfather were sitting at opposite ends, as if on different planets.
"I'd say we're finally settled in enough to call this place home," Vance said. "What do you think, Melody?"
She smiled faintly. "You're right. My garden is still a work in progress, but even it has the makings of home to me."
"What about you, Peyton?" Vance's voice deepened. "Getting comfortable with the surroundings?"
Peyton looked up from her salad. She thought about Bryant and Lily. They had made her feel at home, but she still missed San Diego, their old house, Erica, and her other friends.
Then there was her possible brush with the supernatural that had Peyton questioning a number of things, including her sanity.
"Yeah, I am starting to like living in Shadow Bay," she told her stepfather in what amounted to a half-truth. Peyton met her mother's eyes and wondered if she was truly happy there. Or was it more that she desperately wanted to be, in order to make her second marriage work half as well as the first one?
"Good," Vance said. "Once you start school, you'll get even more acclimated and can start to focus on your future."
"What's wrong with focusing on my present?" Peyton challenged.
"Nothing, per se. But there's more to life than having fun and being waited on hand and foot. You'll learn that as you get older."
"Uh, I think I know that now, Vance." She sneered. "And I'm certainly not aware of anyone around here waiting on me hand and foot!"
"I'm sure he was only trying to make a point," Melody said, circling her fork around her food.
"Why are you always defending him?" Peyton glared at her mother.
"Oh, honey, I'm not taking his side over yours."
"Sounds lik
e it to me."
"We're all on the same side, Peyton," Vance insisted. "I'm just trying to prepare you for life beyond the one you have today. In less than two years you'll be eighteen, off to college soon after, and we won't be there to guide you every step of the way."
"Who says I'll need you to?"
"Now you're being childish," Melody said harshly. "Vance isn't your enemy, Peyton. He only wants to help you."
"Then maybe he could help by not trying to run my life so much--as if he's my real dad!"
"Peyton..." Melody's eyes narrowed.
"It's okay," Vance said. "She's right. I'm just the stepfather and not entitled to Peyton's full respect as a father. But I am still the man of this house and I'll continue to do the best I can for this family, even if it sometimes makes me come off as the bad guy."
Peyton wasn't sure what had come over her. Normally she didn't allow herself to get so easily riled. She wondered if it had something to do with the notion of growing up too soon when she was perfectly happy right now at sixteen. Hopelessly attracted to Bryant Neville, Peyton just wanted to freeze-frame this moment in her life, as though it would soon vanish forever.
Another part of her felt trapped in a time where she was unsure what was real and what was her imagination, wanting only to get past it and see what else life had in store.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was a feeling of déjà vu for Peyton as she crept into the house. Her soaked nightgown clung to her like a second skin and her bare feet ached like she'd been walking on hot coals.
Peyton padded across the floor of the darkened house and up the stairs, guided only by the sounds from above. She moved down the hall till she reached the master bedroom. The door was wide open.
In a trancelike state, Peyton stepped inside. She saw a man standing at the foot of the bed holding a shotgun. He was shouting at someone she could not see.
The man stopped talking and turned in Peyton's direction. She quivered, expecting to be shot. Instead, he seemed to look right through her. She turned her head and saw another man sprawled on the floor. A gaping bullet wound spewed blood from his chest.
Horror-struck, Peyton faced the one holding the shotgun. Again his fierce gaze did not regard her directly, but seemed to go beyond her. She heard footsteps and saw a teenage girl rush past her. Their eyes locked and Peyton felt like she somehow knew the girl, even if not sure how. She watched her move brazenly up to the man at the foot of the bed.
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