I just need to go and secretly get it done, then I can show up at Maya’s house with a triumphant I survived, and I have the selfies to prove it.
I try not to think about creepy ghouls and Harvey’s broken ankle as I drive for sixty-five miles out of town. Apparently, he was so freaked out he ran on the busted bone all the way to his car, making the injury a hundred times worse. I don’t know how he made it back to Harborton, but when he pulled into his driveway, he slumped against the wheel and passed out from the pain. His mother freaked, thinking he was dead.
My grip on the wheel is making my fingers ache. I stretch out my digits as my phone instructs me to turn left down the next road. It’s so isolated out here. I hunch over the wheel and check out my surroundings, before pulling over to the very side of the road. I stare at the mailbox. It’s wonky on the frame, the painted BARRETT label fading and hard to read.
Gripping the wheel again, I gaze at the long driveway leading up to the house.
Murder.
That’s the rumor sticking in my mind. The one that feels right somehow.
One day, Ray Barrett was fit, healthy and working his ranch. Happy.
The next day he was dying in a hospital bed from a brain injury.
No one really knows what happened to him.
Some say an accident.
Others believe the boys did it. They turned on him, and that’s why you never see them anymore. They all got sent to juvie and jail.
I don’t know if that’s true. Nell murmured something about foster care once, but she wouldn’t look at me when she said it.
Nothing good ever comes out of the Barrett Ranch.
I heard our old neighbor say that once. He thinks the house is cursed.
I don’t know what to believe, except that something bad went down five years ago and now I’m supposed to walk up that long driveway and take a few selfies in a place that’s seen things I don’t think I want to know about.
But the picture.
I wince.
If that thing surfaces, I’ll never live it down. And in a small town like this, I just can’t handle the humiliation. There’s already been enough buzz about Spencer dropping out and disappearing off the scene. There’s too much scandal surrounding my family, we don’t need more.
“Just do it, Shay. Find your balls and do it.” Swallowing down the impulse to leave, I pull the keys out of the ignition and shoulder my door open.
I’m just slamming it shut when a car pulls up behind me.
It’s impossible to fight my grin when I spot Nate through the windshield.
“What are you doing here?” I ask as soon as he gets out of his car.
He adjusts his beanie and zips up his winter coat. “You didn’t think I was gonna let you go alone, did you?”
As much as that thrills me, I still feel obligated to roll my eyes. “I can look after myself.”
“I know you can.” He shrugs, his green eyes telling me he absolutely believes it.
Weird. That means more to me than the fact he showed up.
Do I even want him here? I was supposed to be doing this alone.
Pulling something out of his pocket, he holds out his hand and my heart wants to melt into a loved-up puddle when I spot the Caramel Cream in his palm.
My favorite.
Quietly unwrapping it, I pop it in my mouth and suck on the sweetness.
“Yep, I have no doubt in my mind that you are one hundred percent capable of doing this dare alone. But wouldn’t it be cooler to have my gorgeous face in those selfies with you?” His grin is too sexy for words. “Come on now.”
I snicker and have to bite my bottom lip to stop the laughter wanting to burst out of me. He starts wiggling his eyebrows and I give in to a soft giggle.
How the heck am I supposed to send him away now?
As determined as I was to do this on my own, the thought of Nate having my back is an offer too comforting to refuse.
Tipping my head toward the driveway, we cross the road together and I focus on the crunch of our boots on the gravel in an attempt to quell my thundering heart.
Nate smells so good.
He’s here. Tall and strong beside me.
I can do this. I can take these damn photos and show Krissy that I won’t be beaten.
Not by her.
Not by Alex.
Not by anybody.
Chapter 8
One Selfie’s Not Good Enough
NATE
Shay’s quiet as we walk up the driveway. I scan the surrounding fields. If the weather report is right, they’ll be covered by snow in the morning. It’ll look kind of magical. A fresh layer of white powder can make even the most desolate place look amazing.
I study the fence as we trudge up the hill, noticing places that need fixing. Wondering if someone will ever come and claim this property again. It’s weird that it just sits here empty. So much land and none of it is being used for anything.
I don’t know why that’s so creepy, but it is.
Gazing up at the overcast sky, I figure darkness will descend earlier than usual. We need to get these photos and get out of here.
Although, it’s kind of nice being alone with Shay for a change. We never usually get this. Someone is always around—Luke, Hailey, Maya, teammates. It’s kind of impossible to just hang out with her alone.
I should seriously make the most of this.
But what if she doesn’t want me to?
What if I’m alone in the whole crush department?
Damn, this is awkward.
We get to the top of the hill, the big ranch house coming into view. I swear if we were in a horror movie, this would be the perfect set. The large rectangular house is dilapidated, to say the least. A sinister vibe oozes from the weatherboards. The windows are black spider’s eyes peering down on us, questioning why we’re here.
I tense up beside Shay, reminding myself that ghosts aren’t real, and this is dumb.
“Krissy’s an idiot.”
Shay scoffs and shakes her head.
“You shouldn’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.”
“It’s not just about proof.” She scratches the top of her beanie, then runs her short fingers through the ends of her hair.
They’re shaking. From cold? Or fear?
I want to grab them and rub them between my hands, warm her up, squeeze her digits and kiss the tips of them.
But instead, I shove my hands in my pockets and mutter, “What is so bad about this picture she’s threatening you with?”
Shay’s skin goes milky white as she shakes her head.
“Come on, it’s just a photo. It can’t possibly—”
“It’s bad! Okay? No one was ever supposed to see it.” Her brown eyes burn bright when she turns to look at me. “He told me he deleted it. I can’t believe he showed it to Krissy.” Her wobbling voice gives away how much it stings, and I suddenly don’t know what to say.
What the hell is this photo of?
Anger at Alex simmers deep. I hate that they were together. I hate that he has anything on her. What were they doing?
Ugh! It better not be a naked photo or something. I will slay that guy!
When we get home, I’m hunting him down and forcing him to delete that pic.
Krissy will never use this as a weapon against her again.
I nearly tell Shay my plan. Maybe I can convince her to forget this whole thing and figure out another way around it.
“Besides,” she murmurs when we reach the porch steps. “I’m not scared. Even if the picture wasn’t involved, I wouldn’t back out on a dare. Krissy may have gotten my man, but she won’t take my dignity.”
Shay’s face is fierce, and this weird thing is happening in my chest. It’s like a blooming sensation that makes me want her more than I ever have.
Be my girlfriend.
I nearly say it out loud, but she turns away and heads up the steps.
The porch creaks
beneath us, and the second we step below the eaves, I’m swamped by that creepy vibe I’ve been trying to shake off.
It envelops me as I gaze at the cobwebs decorating the corners of the dirty windows. A cold wind rushes past us and we both shiver, inching closer to each other.
Shay swallows and grips the collar of her jacket.
“This’ll do, right? Just a photo here?” I glance over my shoulder. It feels like someone’s watching us, but that’s crazy.
There’s no one around for miles.
Maybe that’s what’s freaking me out. If we get into trouble, it’s not like anyone will hear our cries for help.
A jiggling sound makes me whip back to look at Shay. She’s testing the door handle.
“It’s locked.”
“So, just take a selfie from here and let’s go.” I deepen my voice, trying to hide my nerves. This is ridiculous. I’m not scared. No one’s watching us. Ghosts aren’t real!
“I doubt that will be good enough,” Shay mutters, pulling out her phone and taking a selfie. I photobomb last minute, and Shay’s giggle eases the tension in my shoulders.
“Ugh! Reception out here sucks. I’ve got like one bar.” She heads back down the steps and I follow her into the open, instantly feeling better. Although I still can’t shake that someone’s watching me feeling.
I keep scanning the area while Shay sends the photo. It takes a while, but then Krissy’s reply comes back within seconds.
I’m tempted to read over Shay’s shoulder, but she murmurs the text out loud. “Big deal. I want inside proof, scaredy cat. Or should I call you—?” Shay goes beet red and shoves the phone away.
I give her a confused frown, silently asking for an explanation, but she just gives me a closed-mouth smile and starts walking around the side of the house. “Help me break into this place, will ya?”
“This is insane,” I grumble, trailing behind her.
We skirt the house, looking for an entry point. I doubt we’re going to find one but am proven wrong when we reach the very back and spot a broken window.
I’m assuming the kitchen is through the door on our left. It looks like it.
Behind us there’s an old cellar-looking thing. I bet that’s where the ghost strings up his victims. I shudder and look down the road that leads to a big barn and fields beyond.
This place must have been pretty cool when it was a working cattle ranch. It’s kind of sad that it’s just been left here to die.
“Give me a boost, will ya?” Shay calls me over with a flick of her fingers and I crouch down, creating a step with my hands.
She leans on my shoulder, her hair getting in my face. I breathe it in without meaning to, the smell kind of intoxicating. She must have washed it this morning. It’s rich with blossoms or whatever the heck she cleans it with.
I steady her as she grips the frame of the window and shunts it open.
It scrapes in protest, but a few grunts later and she’s made a large enough space for us to wiggle through.
Steadying her hips, I help her through, not missing how sweet she feels in my hands.
As soon as she’s in, I jump up and pull myself into the house.
Shay’s eyes are large as she looks around the small office space. There’s an old desk in the corner with a chair that looks straight out of the 1800s. To my left is a bookshelf, stuffed full of dust-covered books. I want to run my fingers down the spines, but we can’t leave any evidence of our visit behind.
Not that anyone will be checking, but still… it feels almost disrespectful in a way. Like we’re disturbing a graveyard.
A creak from inside the house makes us jump and Shay takes a step closer to me, curling her fingers into my jacket.
“What was that?”
“Um.” I swallow, trying to sound brave. “Old houses like this creak. It’s no big deal. Everything will be fine.”
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and as tempted as I am to leave it there, I give her a friendly pat and then move for the door.
A ghost-ridden ranch house is not the place to make my move. Maybe once we’ve survived this and are walking back to the cars I can subtly wrap my arm around her or take her hand in mine.
“Aw, crap. I left my bag in the car. It had my flashlight and my…” Her voice trails off, so I turn to look at her.
“Your what?”
“My pepper spray.” She cringes and I snicker at her cute expression.
“Don’t think we’re gonna come across another living soul up here. Not sure the pepper spray is necessary.”
“It’s not the living I’m worried about,” she mutters under her breath.
I nearly tell her that she doesn’t have to do this, but I know she’ll just shake her head and keep going in spite of her fear.
The best thing we can do is get it done and then get on out.
I open the door and wince at the loud whine it makes. Shay curls her fingers around my forearm, gripping my jacket and trying to give me a brave smile.
“Let’s do this.”
Chapter 9
A Warning or An Invitation?
SHAY
Even Nate’s forearms are muscly. I can feel them tighten and flex under my death grip.
I should not be freaking out. This is ridiculous. But something about this place is giving me a major case of the heebie-jeebies.
Our boots echo through the open expanse of the living and dining room area.
It’s actually a really cool space. A massive, log-cabin style, with thick trunks of wood creating the ceiling above us. It’s a high stud, so there’s this huge cavity of space. I’m tempted to clap my hands just to hear the echo. I bet the acoustics in here are amazing.
Slipping out my phone, I take a picture of the inside space, the digital snap sounding loud and intrusive. I wince and grip the phone in my hand, letting go of Nate and walking into the living area. Two couches covered in sheets and an old dusty armchair create a U-shape, facing the fireplace, which is surrounded by rough stone that’s been concreted together to form the chimney.
“Man, it’s like this place could have been built by pioneers, you know what I mean?”
Nate nods, brushing his fingers over the massive dining room table. It looks hand-carved—the rough, natural edges making it a magnificent piece of art.
He leaves trails in the dust, then jerks away like he’s just realized what he was doing. Rubbing his fingers together, he looks up at the loft area above us. There are two access points—a chunky ladder behind the living room and a staircase running up the far-right wall on the other side of the dining room.
Everything is so homemade and rustic.
I’d love it if I wasn’t so creeped out by the eerie stillness and layers of dust.
“What do you think the Barretts were like?” Nate whispers.
“I have no idea. I mean, Nell...”
“Love that woman,” he murmurs with a grin. “She lets Hailey ride their horses sometimes.”
“She’s awesome.” I smile, then step around the dust-caked coffee table to run my hands over the stone surrounding the fireplace.
There’s a framed embroidery sitting on the mantle.
Barrett Family~
Live justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly.
It must be some kind of family motto or something. I like it. I wonder if Ray tried to embed those words in his grandson’s hearts. I wonder if they grew sick of hearing them.
I snicker, thinking of all the “lessons” my parents are still trying to teach me.
“Shay? What were you saying about Nell?”
“Oh.” I glance over my shoulder and smile at Nate. “She doesn’t talk much about it, but I heard her say once that Ray Barrett was one of the best men she knew. She cried when he…passed.” I rasp out the last word, still not sure what to believe.
“Did you know him?”
I shrug and start rubbing my arms. The chill in this place is seeping right through my jacket. “I’d see him in town som
etimes. He always ate at Dodgy Diner.” I’m referring to the old diner that was notorious for food poisoning, until it was taken over by Lyle Summers. It’s been fine ever since, but the name stuck with the locals. It serves amazing burgers.
Nate’s boots are loud as he wanders back past the long table and peeks his head into what I assume is the kitchen. “Do you think those rumors are true?”
“About his grandsons killing him?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t think so, but I never met the Barrett boys, so it’s hard to say. I just can’t imagine five children wanting to kill the person who was looking after them. Unless he was harboring some kind of evil personality behind closed doors. Nell said he was great, but you don’t always know people the way you think you do.” My voice trails off, my insides turning icy when I spot a dark brown stain on the edge of the stones that looks freakishly blood-like.
I step back with a quick gasp and catch my leg on the coffee table.
I’m about to eat hardwood floor when two strong arms appear out of nowhere and haul me back to my feet.
Our jackets rustle against each other and all I can do is remind myself to breathe as I slowly turn to look up at Nate.
“Thanks.” My whisper is wonky for some reason.
Maybe it’s the fact he smells so good.
Or that I’m close enough to lean my head against his chest.
Or rise to my tiptoes… and then if he bent down a little, we’d be…
I’m suddenly aware that I’m still staring at him. My skin has gone hot and prickly, and if any of my thoughts are showing on my face… aw, crap, kill me now.
I clear my throat and step away from him, crossing my arms over my chest and trying to avoid that brown stain again.
It can’t be blood, can it?
A rattle to my left makes me jump and I let out a chuckle to try and hide how tightly I’m wound.
I need to just get these selfies and get out.
Scanning the area, I’m looking for a good spot when the ladder catches my eye. I wonder what’s upstairs. As creeped out as I am, curiosity is vying for my attention and I’m kind of inclined to listen to it. Who were the Barrett boys? And why did Ray keep them hidden away from the world?
'Tis the Season for Love: A Charity Box Set Page 11