by Minard, Tori
“I don’t know what you want from me, Max.”
His gaze flicked up to meet mine again. “Yes, you do.”
My face began to burn. “I can’t talk about this right now. I need to get ready for class.”
He wisely left me alone after that.
Chapter 14
Max
The familiar nightmare about Carter woke me in a tangle of sweaty sheets. The silence in my room was so thick it almost hurt my ears. I stared up at my ceiling. A different ceiling from the one in the dream, plaster instead of drywall, an old house in a small college town instead of a giant suburban log mansion built in the nineties. But my heart raced, my hands shook as if the gun had just gone off.
I covered my face. Why had I been playing with that goddamned gun? Why had I thought it was unloaded? If I’d had any common sense at all, Carter would still be here. He’d be seventeen by now, just starting his senior year of high school. Football games and homecoming and prom. Girlfriends. Instead he was rotting in the ground.
With stiff, awkward motions, I pushed myself into a sitting position on the mattress. That was when I noticed Frederick sitting on the floor next to the altar below my window. Odd. He never sat on the floor.
He wasn’t wearing the sack suit, either. Instead, he had on a pair of loose denim pants, not jeans exactly but something similar, and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looked like a lumberjack.
His hair wasn’t slicked down the way it usually was, either. Or maybe I’d just assumed he slicked it down, because he normally had that derby on and today he didn’t. His head was bare. His hair looked so much like mine...his eyes were almost identical to the ones I saw in the mirror every day. It gave me a really creepy feeling all of a sudden, like I was seeing a nineteenth-century version of myself.
“Morning, Fred.” My voice sounded rusty.
“You were dreaming,” he said, his dark-blue Max-like eyes sad.
“Yeah.” The less said about that, the better.
“It wasn’t your fault, Max.”
“Sure it was.” I looked away from his knowing gaze. “I was the one with the loaded gun.”
“You thought it wasn’t loaded.”
“Isn’t that what they all say? I didn’t know there were any bullets in it. It’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”
“What was your father thinking, keeping a loaded gun in a house with three boys? Have you ever thought about that?”
I shrugged. “That doesn’t relieve me of the responsibility of what I did.”
“You’re determined to blame yourself.”
“Because I’m to blame.” I threw back the comforter and crawled out of bed. Time for some coffee.
What a life I led. My closest friend was a ghost no-one else could see. I spent my time studying, working on my computer, and talking to said invisible friend. It hadn’t been this way in Seattle; I’d known quite a few people up there. Here in Avery’s Crossing, the only person I wanted to spend time with was my stepbrother’s girlfriend, and that wasn’t happening.
Dressed only in my underwear, I stumbled into the bathroom. Luckily, Fred chose not to follow me. He could have come right through the wall, but he’d learned over the years that I liked to have at least an illusion of privacy.
Now for coffee. He was waiting for me, leaning against the counter of my cramped kitchen. I measured beans into my grinder and tried to ignore him. After a dream like the one I’d had, I didn’t want to talk or think. If I could have erased myself, I think I would have.
I gave my ancestor a reluctant glance. “Coffee?”
“Hah. Don’t taunt me.”
“You look like a farm laborer or a lumberjack. What’s with the clothes?”
“My suit needed cleaning.”
I laughed in spite of myself.
“How did you get hold of that gun, Max?”
My laughter died. “It was in my dad’s office.”
“Yes, but why did you go in there and get it?”
Thinking about that terrible day made everything in me hurt like hell. I didn’t want to remember. But Fred was looking at me expectantly as I ran the coffee grinder.
“I’m not sure. I think Trent had asked me about it.”
“Trent asked you to play with it?”
“No. I don’t know. I’m not sure, all right?” I sighed. “It was a long time ago, and I’ve done everything I can to forget.” Even though the image of Carter’s broken body covered in blood would be engraved on my brain cells forever.
“I don’t want to cause you pain,” he said. “But I think it might help to remember everything you can about that afternoon.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure. Something is missing.”
“Weren’t you there?”
He shook his head. “No. Do you think I would have let you do something like that if I’d been around to prevent it? I wasn’t aware of you until after the accident.”
I tossed the freshly ground beans into my coffee maker and added water. Coffee was really the only thing I knew how to make, except stuff that could be heated up in the microwave.
“Fred, I appreciate that you’re trying to help me, but I don’t want to remember anything about Carter’s death. Remembering won’t change anything; it won’t bring him back or make me any less guilty. I just want to let it go. All right?”
“I understand, but I think you’re making a mistake.”
To hell with the coffee. I abandoned my efforts at cooking and went back into my bedroom for my clothes. The last thing I wanted right now was a heart-to-heart with Fred about the worst moment in my life.
My jeans and t-shirt went on fast. I stuck my feet into my shoes and made for the door. He stood in the middle of my living room, watching me but not doing anything to stop me. His eyes still looked sad, and I didn’t want to see that.
Outside, rain fell. I’d forgotten my jacket, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going back into my apartment for it because then I’d have to talk to Fred. Out here, if he showed up I’d just ignore him. Easier to ignore him when I had the excuse of not wanting to look like a madman to the other people in the vicinity.
By the time I made it to the local coffee house, my shirt and hair were soaked and I was starting to shiver. It was Caroline’s coffee house, the one she’d brought me to that day we walked by the river. I got myself a bagel and coffee and sat down in the back. Early on a Saturday morning, there weren’t many people here, which left me too alone with my thoughts. I looked around for a newspaper or something to take my mind off my past.
A mom came in with two kids, a boy and a girl. They both had pale blond hair. My stomach cramped. They looked so much like Carter it was painful to see them, chattering and laughing just the way he always had. The boy was tugging on his mom’s arm and pointing at the pastries on display in the glass cases next to the cash register.
I looked away. Damn it. I couldn’t even go out for coffee without being reminded of him. When was it going to stop? Twelve years hadn’t been enough—not nearly enough—to take away the pain of what I’d done.
If I could to back to that afternoon and trade places with him, I would. Except then he’d be the one with the murderous burden of guilt on his shoulders. He’d be the one wishing his life away, and I would never do that to him. To anyone.
“Max?”
I looked up to see Caroline standing next to my table. She wore a damp navy-blue pea coat and a blue hat with a down-turned brim. She had a little smile on her face, like she wasn’t sure whether I would acknowledge her or whether maybe I’d pretend she wasn’t there. This weird surge of yearning and annoyance came over me, a crazy desire to snap at her for being so inconveniently taken and kiss her at the same time.
“Caroline.”
She had a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate with a piece of cake in the other. “Mind if I join you?”
“Um...no. Go ahead.”
She sat down across from me. “I never come i
n here. And when I finally do, you’re here.”
“You want me to leave?”
“Oh, no. That’s not what I meant at all. It’s just kind of strange. Do you come here often?”
“I usually make my own coffee.” I tilted my head, studying her. “Should you be talking to me? Trent won’t like it.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I know.”
“And...”
“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” Her gaze narrowed. “Why are you soaking wet?”
“I forgot my jacket.”
“Max, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” My voice came out in a bark.
She recoiled slightly. “Maybe I should go.”
“No, don’t go,” I said with a regretful sigh. “Sorry, it’s just been a weird morning. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not especially.”
She bent her head and sipped her coffee. I could tell I’d made her uncomfortable. It pissed me off that she was with Trent when I wanted her. Dumb, I know, but I wanted her so damned much it was all I could do not to reach across the table and caress her hand. The fury of my frustration made me growl low in my throat.
“I’m surprised you’re here after Trent told you I’m a devil-worshipper,” I said.
Her head jerked up. “How did you know he told me that?”
“It’s what he says to everyone.”
“I didn’t believe him. Should I have?”
My grin was without real humor. “That’s up to you.”
“Well, is it true or not?” She frowned. “You said it wasn’t.”
“Did I?” I couldn’t remember saying anything about it until now.
“Or...no. You said I should believe every word he said about you. So is it true?”
I shrugged. “I don’t believe in the devil.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
What was I talking about? Was I trying to start a fight with her?
I shook my head. “I’m a freak and you should stay away from me.”
If I stayed here any longer, I would do something we’d both regret. Standing abruptly, I took my coffee and bagel and headed for the door. I could feel her gaze following me all the way out of the coffee house, but I didn’t look back. I plunged out into the pounding rain.
“Max, wait!”
Gritting my teeth, I turned to see her hobbling after me through the downpour, moving as fast as she could with that brace still on her ankle. Didn’t she understand? I was a killer. Not the kind of person she should be hanging around. Still, I couldn’t allow her to hurt herself trying to run after me, so I waited.
“What?” I said, my voice full of all the confusion I couldn’t discuss with her.
“I just—why haven’t you talked to me?” Her face turned pink. “I mean, I haven’t seen you at all since the party, except that one day in class.”
The words “since the kiss” hung in the air between us. But I wasn’t going there.
“Like I said, I’m not a good person for you to be around.”
“But why?” she said, frowning.
“You know why.”
Her lips pressed together, the corners turning down. “I’m pestering you. Sorry.”
She rotated her body away from me. I’d hurt her feelings. I didn’t want to hurt her; I’d only meant to warn her what kind of guy she was trying befriend.
What the fuck was wrong with me? I was supposed to seduce her. I should be celebrating the fact that she sought me out on her own, not trying to run her off.
“No.” I caught her by the wrist as she turned to go. “You’re not pestering me.”
The touch of her skin sent hot shivers through my body. And it was only her wrist, nothing intimate. What would she do to me if we were to kiss again? My own face heated and I knew I was blushing.
“I’m sure you have better things to do than stand around talking to someone like me,” she said.
That made no sense. “Someone like you? What are you talking about?”
“I’m boring. Not like you.”
“Caroline, you’re anything but boring.”
The pinched look of her mouth relaxed and a tiny smile hovered around her mouth. “You don’t think I’m boring?”
Had she noticed my blush? “I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met.”
Her face went blank. Shit. I’d gone too far, way too far. We’d only kissed that one time and she was already taken anyway. I should never have told her that.
“I, um, I want to know more about you,” she said, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
“You do?” Celebrating. I should be celebrating.
“Yeah. Can we maybe talk a while?”
Screw celebrating—I should be studying. It was Dead Week, after all. I couldn’t bring myself to turn her down, though. She might never make the offer again.
“Okay, sure. I’d like that.”
She smiled at me. “Great! But you should get a coat. You’re soaked.”
I glanced up at the sky and rain fell in my face. Our conversation had so absorbed my attention I hadn’t even noticed the water falling on me.
“Let’s go back to the coffee place. I think they’ll let us in.”
“Okay.” She nodded, a little shy. “Yes, I’d like that.”
“All right.”
They didn’t even seem to notice us as we came back into the restaurant and chose a table. My coffee was still hot, but Caroline’s cake looked mushy with the rainwater it had absorbed. I got up and bought her another piece.
“Thanks,” she said when I put it in front of her.
“No problem. The first piece didn’t look edible.”
“What, you don’t like chocolate cake soup?”
We laughed and it sounded forced. Then we sat without talking as we took exploratory sips of our respective coffees.
“Have you seen Retro-girl lately?” I said into the awkward silence.
“No. I haven’t seen her since the day at the student union.”
“That’s good, I guess.”
Right. We stared at each other for another minute or so.
“I’m sorry Trent is so rude to you,” Caroline said. “I tried to get him to go to coffee with you, but he just got mad at me.”
My forehead puckered at the bizarre thought. “Coffee?”
“Yeah. I thought it would be neutral if we met here, or some other place like it. You know, so you could maybe get on better terms with each other.”
I didn’t want to embarrass her by smiling at the idea, but it was so unlikely, so improbable I couldn’t help myself. “Um...that’s sweet of you, Caroline, but I think we’re good the way we are.”
“That’s what he said.”
“I guess Trent and I agree on one thing, then.”
“It just seems sad, you know?” Her dark eyes were soft with concern. “I don’t like thinking of you being alone.”
I could feel the heat in my face. “Why? You hardly even know me.”
She blushed too. “I don’t have to know you well to be worried about you, do I?”
“I don’t know. Evidently not.”
“People need families. That’s all.”
“I haven’t had a family of origin since I was ten. Not one I wanted, anyway.” Fred was my family now, and he wasn’t even alive. And I had Brad and Marie. They were all I needed.
“Family of origin?” She sounded puzzled.
“My foster parents and my working circle are my family now.”
“Oh.” Her eyes were wide and watchful. “I didn’t know you had a foster family.”
“They helped me get off the street.”
She pushed a bite of cake around her plate. “What’s it like to be alone?”
I shrugged. “It is what it is. I haven’t known anything else, so I can’t really tell you. I hitchhiked west to Seattle and like I said, I was on the streets for
a while before I met Brad and Marie. They took me in, helped me get my GED and a job. When I had enough money, I decided to go back to school.” That was more than I’d told anyone about my life in a very long time. I felt like I’d taken off all my clothes and done a series of naked back-flips or something.
“You’re very independent.”
“Yeah. I am.”
She still looked worried. “Do you miss them? Your family of origin, I mean.”
“No.” Kinda hard to miss people who despise you.
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped a little. “That’s...too bad.”
“You don’t need to worry about me or try to fix me. I’m fine. Honest.”
Her gaze shot to mine. “I’m not trying to fix you.”
“Good.” I hated it when women thought they could change me, make me into some domesticated animal who would fetch their slippers for them. That wasn’t me. I’d been on my own too long for that kind of shit. Even before I’d run away, I’d been essentially on my own.
“So, um, you believe in ghosts.” She gave me an embarrassed-looking smile.
“Yeah. Why?”
“I’ve just never met anyone who was open about it. It’s...unusual.”
How much could I tell her without freaking her out? I didn’t want her running away and screaming, or more likely since this was her room, kicking me out. Some people got extremely worked up when they found out what I did.
“I’m interested in paranormal phenomena,” I said after a pause. It was the most neutral way I could think of to describe it.
“Do you believe all that stuff they do on those ghost TV shows?”
“I think they exaggerate a lot of stuff on those shows. But that doesn’t mean ghosts aren’t real.”
She seemed to ponder that for a minute. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. It’s just...in my family, nobody believes in that stuff. They make fun of it.”
“People tend to make fun of things they don’t understand. Especially if they’re afraid.”
Her brown eyes met mine. “Yeah. That sounds reasonable.”
“I usually don’t talk to people about it if I know they won’t understand. It’s easier that way.”