by Delilah Hunt
Falling For A Monster
Delilah Hunt
Contents
Falling For A Monster
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
About the Author
Untitled
Falling For A Monster
Copyright© 2017 Delilah Hunt
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used, reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations for book reviews.
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.
Prologue
Thirteen Years Ago
Chase was supposed to be hunting. Right now, his blade should’ve been dripping with blood. From which animal? It didn’t matter. It could’ve been from the wild boar he’d been intent on finding, or better yet, the fat niglet who’d ran from him, causing both of them to land right on their asses in a sinkhole that had loosened near the thick roots of a tree.
Instead of heading home to show off his kill, he was forced to breathe the same air and share the same space as that creature sitting inches away from him.
Larke. That was her name. And of all the stupid names he’d ever heard, hers had to be the worst. Chase wasn’t sure how long they’d been inside the muddy sinkhole, just that it was way too long, since she was no longer cringing away from him even though he still had his knife.
Curling his lips, he canted his head and scowled at the girl, trying to figure out why she thought telling him her name would make a difference.
As if he cared! In fact, he didn’t know why she’d even started talking to him. Larke was ugly with boring dark eyes and tight curly hair that was held in what he guessed was supposed to be pigtails, although they didn’t hang. Worse, around her neck, she had on a fake pearl necklace. He knew it was fake because the beads were much shinier and plastic-like than the ones he’d seen on those rich ladies him and Gramps had eaten dinner with in Alabama last winter.
Chase shook his head with disgust. Dark as she was, he hoped she’d soon begin to blend in with the dirt that matched her nasty skin color. Then he’d be able to concentrate in peace and try to find a way out of this situation.
He scratched his head while eyeing the approaching night’s sky. Fuck. There were too many clouds in the sky for his liking. Big fat puffy clouds, that looked as if they were waiting for the right opportunity to burst open and drench the ground with weeks of pent up rainwater. If that happened… Chase squeezed his eyes shut. It wouldn’t rain. Wouldn’t, he reassured himself. And if it did someone would find him before it began to pour.
He glanced at the girl again. Someone would find them, he thought angrily. When everyone found out he’d been so close to a stinkin’ nigger he’d definitely be in for a beating.
“Do you think it’ll rain before anyone finds us?”
“Don’t talk to me,” Chase snapped. Moron couldn’t even tell when someone was ignoring her. She rolled her eyes then glanced at the book bag beside her foot. He ground his teeth and went back to ignoring her.
Should’ve killed her before we fell in.
He’d tried, though, hadn’t he? And that was what led to all of this—the two of them trapped here; about to spend the night in the cold with the possibility of storm showers beating down on them and worse.
After Chase spied her standing near the woods, on property she’d had no business being on, he’d reached for his knife and took off after her. Despite looking like she’d eaten too much candy and ice cream when her parents weren’t watching, she was a fast runner. She’d screamed for him to leave her alone while pounding the moss-covered ground.
He hadn’t. How could he, when she was intruding on their land? Just like that chink reporter who’d come sneaking around his grandfather’s office last month. Chase had been determined to mete out his own justice to the little intruder. But once he’d caught a hold of her shirttail, everything else happened within a blur. One moment he was running on solid ground, the next his feet were sliding from beneath him in mud with the girl’s screams echoing in the woods as they landed inside the sinkhole.
Tired of standing now, Chase sank to the cold damp ground as far away from Larke as humanly possible—which meant there was a tiny space between his shoulder and hers. He groaned inside his eleven-year-old head while sneaking a peek at her reaching down into her bag. She pulled out a candy bar and then another. Hunger and jealousy gnawed at his empty stomach. She had something to eat and he didn’t.
He turned his head, hating her even more. Probably thought she was better than him. She wasn’t, he reminded himself. As everyone in Lee’s Fortress would say: If the color ain’t right... Well her color wasn’t right. That alone made him superior. Among other things. Lots of other things that she was probably too dumb to understand.
Reminded of his pride, Chase puffed out his chest, determined to ignore the faint scent of chocolate and peanut wafting in the air. He was doing good, until out of nowhere, something hit him on the leg. Jaws clenched, he jerked his head, teeth bared, intent on reminding her that he was one step away from finishing what he’d started earlier. And he wasn’t the least bit afraid of getting into trouble because she was black and absolutely no one would care what happened to her.
He said nothing, however. There was no need. Chase felt the anger drain right out of him as he spied the candy bar beside his foot. The one Larke had tossed his way. The urge to reach for it, tear the wrapper open and stuff it inside his mouth ate at him. His stomach growled, a not so subtle reminder that he’d left home all day, after eating only a bowl of cereal sometime near midday and it was now nearing night.
Leaving the candy in the spot it landed, Chase stared back up at what was definitely storm clouds rolling in. He had no doubt the girl’s family was searching for her. As for his family... He wasn’t sure. Maybe they hadn’t noticed he was missing. When he’d left the house earlier, his mother and stepfather Trevor had been arguing. She’d grumbled again about being tired of housework and too many other things for Chase to remember. His grandfather was somewhere in Louisiana meeting with important people, who were afraid to be seen with him in public but were glad he’d founded Antebellum Resistance. AR, as they called it, was a group that wanted to help make life better for white people since the government was favoring everyone else. Gramps said things would be a whole lot better if America went back to more traditional ways and that included the coloreds being put in their place once and for all.
Everyone needed a place, Chase supposed. Last month his place had been to follow orders and clean up blood, without backtalk or questions. He curled his fingers into a fist and fought the wave of nausea inside his stomach that made him want to throw up. It happened every time he recalled the sound of the bullet cracking the reporter’s skull.
The blood splattering on the wall and the scent of bleach they’d used afterward. He’d been forced to watch his grandfather shoot
the man after they’d caught him lurking around, peering through a window of AR’s main office. His grandfather and Trevor had then convinced the reporter to come inside. There’d been promises of an interview in the privacy of the basement. They had told him he’d learn all about white supremacy and the ins and outs of their neo-Confederate movement that was headquartered in the small town of Lee’s Fortress, North Carolina.
“Aren’t you going to eat the candy?” The girl’s annoying voice cut into his thoughts. She was staring at him, frowning. “Maybe the sugar will put you in a better mood.”
Chase turned his head ever so slowly, glaring at her. She shrugged and reached for the candy, pushing it out to him. “Here take it.”
Simply because he was so damn hungry and irritated that he was still thinking about what happened last month like a wimp or fairy, Chase snatched the wrapper, making sure not to touch her hand. He bit into the Snickers candy, unsure at first what it would taste like, but uncaring because it meant his stomach would no longer be empty.
After taking the first bite and liking it, he turned to Larke and asked, “Are you fat because you eat this type of stuff all the time?”
“That’s not a nice thing to say.” She gazed at the ground then lifted her head. “I don’t eat candy all day long. I um... Sometimes I eat pizza and bacon too.” She snapped her chin up and tossed her head to the side. Now she was ignoring him. Whatever. He was happy she finally got a clue... Until he saw her dip her hand in the bag again. This time she had pulled out even more candy than before. How was that possible?
His stomach rumbled at the sight of all the sugary treats he was never allowed and had never tasted. Why did she have so many and did her parents actually allow her to eat all of it?
She moved to face him, her eyes narrowed. “I really should let you sit there and starve for everything you did to me today, including calling me a monkey baby before you went insane and came after me with a knife you probably stole from your daddy.” She stuck out her chin again. “But you’re lucky I’m not as mean as you are.” She dropped a handful onto his lap.
Chase ignored her at first, simply staring at his sugary stash meant to ward off hunger. Then before he could stop his big mouth from talking, he asked, “Why do you have so much candy?”
“Birthday party,” she said, mouth stuffed with chocolate. “A girl in my class brought them in to share with everyone. Don’t they do that at your school? At my old school, I brought in cupcakes for my class. My mom and I baked them together.” She touched her necklace. “I also got this for my birthday.”
He didn’t care about her stupid necklace. Now was his chance to make her jealous. “I don’t go to school,” he said smugly. “My mom teaches me when the mood strikes her. Or I teach myself sometimes. Real useful stuff too.”
She frowned. “Don’t you ever get bored?”
“No.” It was a lie. Sometimes the boredom drove him crazy. Still, it wasn’t that bad, because he did get to sneak time in to improve his carving skills, whenever his mother left him alone to learn math and all the other subjects he hated. Other times, Chase was too busy hanging out and driving across states with his grandfather, learning the important things he needed to know. Gramps had even said one day Chase would be the one in charge of AR and everyone in Lee’s Fortress would respect and depend on him to help preserve their strong Confederate heritage. He was looking forward to that day when everyone would listen to him.
As for now, Larke seemed satisfied with his answer and had somehow managed to keep her mouth shut for a couple of minutes. Chase rubbed his hand along the sleeve of his shirt. The temperature had begun to drop. He wondered if that was her reason for not talking anymore. Not that he minded. Wasn’t like he was getting used to her yapping, or anything foolish like that.
He watched her reach into her wonder bag again. This time she pulled out a yellow sweater that he guessed belonged to her mom because it was much too big and long for her. The sweater was definitely for someone older than a... It suddenly hit him he had no idea how old she was, only that she had to be younger than him. Didn’t matter, he reminded himself. He hadn’t asked or planned on asking for her age.
Instead of putting on the sweater as he’d expected her to, Larke threw it over her chest and held out one side. She was silently inviting him underneath it. Chase hesitated for all but a second before grabbing a hold of the sweater and scooting closer while pulling his section up to his neck. Maybe if he was braver and tougher he would’ve turned down her offer, but freezing didn’t seem like it would prove anything at all. So he held himself as still as possible, trying not to accidentally brush up against her. When that proved impossible, mainly because of her constant fidgeting, he lowered his head, determined at least to not make eye contact with her.
Some time later, they pushed the sweater away to stand and call out into the night, hoping that whoever was out there searching for them might be close enough to hear. When that failed and their cries were met by the hooting of an owl and the distance grunt of deer deep inside the woods, both sank back to the ground with their knees drawn up, huddled beneath the big sweater.
“I hope it doesn’t rain,” she said, worried.
“Me too.”
His honesty must have awakened the chatter bug inside her because soon she was starting up again. In no time at all Chase had learned that Larke and her mother had recently moved to North Carolina from Missouri after her parent’s divorce. Even worse, when she’d asked him about his family, he hadn’t hesitated to tell her all about them, including his father who had died in a car crash on his way home late one night.
There was a long stretch of silence before Larke finally said anything to him again. “Now I know why you said those mean things and tried to…” She let the sentence hang and Chase was glad. Because if she tried to make him feel guilty he’d more than likely end up saying other things she definitely wouldn’t want to hear. Like how one day life would go back to the way it used to be, when people like her would stay in their own neighborhoods and everything would be separated again. Gramps said since people didn’t like hearing talks of slavery and because it made neo-Confederates look bad if they discussed it as a positive thing, that it was best if they focused on bringing back segregation. In time, they’d also deal with all those immigrants coming in to destroy the white race. Chase wasn’t sure he believed any of those would ever happen, but his family and everyone else around him sure did, including the wealthy people who sometimes gave money to AR.
As the night wore on and continued to get colder and scarier, deep in the back of his mind, was also the worry of that wild boar he’d been after. What if the animal came running through the edge of the woods and fell into the sinkhole with them? He knew it was probably a stupid concern, but still, it was there. Along with the damn rainstorm. For a second he thought about sharing his worry with Larke, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted was for her start acting stupid and get all panicky about something that wasn’t going to happen anyway.
But she didn’t panic once since we’ve been down here.
Chase ignored the voice in his head, the one that was trying to make it seem as if he doing something good by not giving her another reason to worry.
“Do you want to hear a story?”
No. He shrugged. “Why ask? You’ll still keep talking even if I say no.”
He thought he heard her laugh. He wasn’t sure. Didn’t care. On second thought, maybe her story would be a step above listening to the annoying chirping of crickets and all sorts of critters occupying the woods.
“A hedgehog and a firefly lived in the same building. Every single day they saw each other but never ever talked…”
The last thing Chase remembered was the sound of Larke yawning as she finished her childish story. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he realized they’d both fallen asleep. Also, it wasn’t as dark as before. The other thing he noticed was the weight on his shoulder. His first instinct was to push her a
way, uncaring if she hit her head in the process. But he didn’t. Since being trapped down here, somehow it no longer seemed to make much of a difference that he hated or was supposed to hate the girl next to him. They had bigger things to worry about.
Like the loud clap of thunder and the fat drops of rain hitting their cold skin, that caused Larke to suddenly wake up screaming. Bolting upright, Chase turned to face her. Their gazes locked and held. Larke’s eyes were huge and wide with fear. He wondered if she could see the same in his, despite trying so hard to remain brave.
“It might not last long. Sometimes we get these five minutes rain,” he said, unsure if he was trying to make Larke or himself feel better.
It wasn’t a five-minute rain shower. A flash of lightning split the early morning sky, in a violent display of might. The clouds ripped open, pelting them with drop after drop of torrential rain. In unison, they both began shouting, frantic screams as they tested their luck of escaping before the water piled in, filling the sinkhole. Not a single sound came back except for the violent downpour pounding the dirt.
Soaking wet, with the rain coursing down their faces, they stared at each other. Larke was crying, her shoulders jerking up and down. “I don’t want to die in here, Chase. I want my mom. I just want to be home with my mom.”
He wanted to cry too. Chase looked down, wondering how long it would take for the hole to completely fill with water if it was already on his knees. He raised his head, numb and unsure if he was crying or not. His mind became a tangled mess. For some reason, he was thinking about that dead chink reporter again. His death had happened so fast. The man hadn’t really…suffered. He and Larke, though… They were so young. And drowning would mean a whole lot of suffering. Painful and slow, he imagined. His heartbeat thumped inside his chest as he inched closer to Larke. Chase stretched out his hand, reaching for hers. She was gazing up at him, her lips trembling as she continued to cry. His eyes burned the moment his fingers brushed lightly against Larke’s. He opened his mouth to lie, assure her that drowning happened quickly. He never had the chance.