The Twisted Veil: A Twisted Sisters Anthology (The Twisted Sisters Anthologies Book 1)

by Riley Ross, Sally Slayer, Kaydence Rayne, & Dovey Mayali Cralk

  Chapter Two

  The next morning Pippa awoke to the sounds of birds singing. Making her coffee, she went to the bathroom and cleaned up, changing into jeans and a Halestorm t-shirt, getting ready for the day. Her sofa was supposed to be delivered before lunch, and she was nervous. At least when dealing with Griffin she knew he couldn't even touch her, let alone hurt her, but knowing that men were coming frightened her. She tried to ignore it, and sat down to a breakfast of fruit. When her bowl whipped across the table and to the floor where it shattered, she rolled her eyes and put her spoon down, picking up her coffee before the ghost could steal that away as well.

  "Morning, Griff," she muttered.

  "What are repeats?"

  Pippa sighed. It was too early in the morning for this. "I'm sorry?"

  Griffin popped up sitting cross-legged on the table directly in front of her. She jumped, spilling her coffee in her lap and almost tipping the chair backwards. "Bloody hell, did you have to do that?" she shouted.

  "What are repeats?"

  "God, what is wrong with you?" she screamed as she dabbed at her pants with a towel.

  He began to sporadically pop up all over the kitchen, making the dishes rattle and the cabinet doors and drawers open and close. "What are repeats?"

  Pippa tossed her head back and screamed in frustration before storming out of the kitchen. Digging through her suitcase and muttering curses at him, she ignored it when he started making things bang around in what would soon be her bedroom. Finding a clean pair of jeans, she stomped to the attached bathroom and slammed the door shut, screaming at him that he'd better not watch. She changed clothes and emerged a few minutes later, feeling calmer now that she had put some cool water on her skin. Luckily for her, the coffee had had a little time to cool off and didn't burn her very badly.

  Griffin stood outside the door, his quickly becoming customary crossed-arms and glower in place. Pippa didn't look at him, but said something as she walked past him and through the door. "A repeat is when something so emotional happens to a person, either during life or at the time of death, that it leaves an imprint. The energy from the emotions just repeats itself over and over again, replaying the event. Some are good scenes, some are bad. Do your worst, you could never be as bad as the first one I saw." She tried to keep her voice flat, but the tortured tone at the end was unmistakable to Griffin's ears. Pippa cleared her throat. "If you want to apologize for making me get burned, hang around when the delivery men come."

  Griffin looked puzzled. "What?"

  "Do it or don't, I don't care. I'm going to get more coffee, let me drink it in peace, please."

  He tried to figure how to react to her sudden sullen mood, and decided to get angry. It was what had always worked for him before; it was where he felt safe.

  Back in the kitchen, he made a few plates fall out and crash to the floor, sent a pan fly across the room to shatter a framed photo of flowers. He made sure not to get anything too close to where she was drinking her coffee - he was angry, not an asshole who wanted to actually hurt her.

  Pippa ignored his antics, just kept sipping at her steaming breakfast and staring out through the bay window by the table. He became more enraged the more she pretended nothing was happening, and had all of the glassware in the cupboard broken by the time she finished drinking from her oversized old mug. He watched as she placed it in the sink and walked silently to the living room to finish unpacking and getting ready for the delivery men. Unhappy with her lack of reaction, he continued to wreak havoc around her, making a mess everywhere she had just straightened up.

  She simply continued to pretend nothing was happening, just kept putting things away over and over again until she heard the truck rumbling up the drive. She sighed. "Okay Pips, here we go," she muttered to herself.

  Griffin stopped his rampage, noticing the sudden tension in her body and voice. He faded back into the shadows to watch.

  Pippa was already on her way to the door when heavy knocks sounded out. Pulling it open with a fake smile plastered on her face, she greeted the men and showed them where the sofa was to go. Seeing that there were still movie cases scattered across the floor, she stooped to pick them up and get them out of the way, and heard one of them, a short man with thickly muscled arms, let out a low whistle. Pippa shot back up to standing and tried to find a way to hide. Having nowhere to go, she forced herself to calm down and put the movies away.

  Seeing her unease, Griffin wondered if he should step in. He didn't know why she was so nervous, but remembered that she had said something about sticking around when these men were here. He was still debating it when the other man, taller than the first and built like a body builder, strode toward her and leaned in a little too close.

  "Hey sweet cheeks, what's a pretty little thing like you doing out here all alone? You need a man around!"

  Pippa tried to move away, and he backed her against the wall, making her feel trapped. "No, no I'm fine," she stuttered.

  He grinned lecherously and started to move his body closer. "Oh, come on! You need a man, and I'm willing to fill the position, you know?" She could smell alcohol on his breath, and wondered how someone could be drunk this early in the day, besides being on the job.

  "No, I'm really fine, could you please get the sofa?" she was beginning to panic now, and was sure she was going to freak out at any moment.

  The other man, who had been ogling her before, spoke up nervously. "Yo, Pete, we've got more deliveries to do before noon, let's get this show on the road."

  "I'll be there in a minute, Randy, I'm trying to get acquainted with this little lady, here!"

  Randy shuffled nervously. "I think you're scaring her, man. Let's just get her stuff and head out, okay?"

  The man called Pete swung his head around angrily. "Will you shut up?"

  Griffin had had enough. The tiny brat of a woman was nothing to him, but he could not stand by and watch this any longer. Stepping from the shadows and walking quickly toward her, he said, "Hey honey, sorry it took so long, I walked out farther than I realized."

  Pete quickly dropped his arms and stepped back. He might have been big, but Griffin was even taller than he was, and his strength was evident in the way he carried himself. Griffin walked right up to Pippa and whispered for her pretend he was hugging her. She was too shaken up to question him, and pulled her arms up in front of her, making sure they were positioned to look like they were resting on his chest. Pete said nothing as he rushed out the door, and the two men had the sofa shoved into the living room in record time before tearing down the road in their truck without another word.

  Pippa let out her breath in a whoosh, feeling relieved. She dropped her arms and went to the couch, collapsing on it.

  Griffin went to her, concerned. "Are you all right?" he asked.

  She was still taking deep breaths, shaken. "I'm okay now. Thank you for helping me back there." She looked up at him, tears of gratitude in her eyes. "I...I was really scared," she admitted in a rush.

  "So I noticed," he teased gently. "Guys like that are just asshats, you know? You can't let them know they have that power over you, or they'll never ease up."

  Pippa just nodded, feeling drained. The couch was still sideways in the large archway entrance, and she needed to move it. With a sigh, she stood up.

  "What are you doing?" Griffin asked.

  Pippa cast a look at him. She was in his debt for helping her, but the evidence of his temper tantrum was still everywhere. Luckily the delivery men hadn't noticed. "I have to move the couch where it belongs, of course." She began doing just that, pushing and pulling, and finally got it where she wanted it before flopping on it once more.

  "You got an orange couch?"

  She smiled and rubbed her hand across the soft fabric, "Pretty, isn't it?"

  He huffed. "Don't quite see the point since you won't be staying."

  "Pardon me? I already
told you, this is my house, so why wouldn't I be moving furniture in?"

  Griffin became angry with himself. He didn't want her getting comfortable, and he shouldn't have helped her, but he wasn't the kind of person who could just let something bad happen to a person. Now she probably thought they were friends. "Get out."

  "No."

  "Dammit, woman! Why won't you just give me peace?!"

  She sat up to look at him. "Look, I'm having a rough day in case you haven't noticed. If you don't want to hear me talk, then stop starting conversations, yeah? I'm going to finish in here, then I'm going to do my bathroom, then I'm rewarding myself with a nice adult beverage. If you don't like it, then piss off."

  Griffin didn't what to say, so instead picked up his tantrum where he had left off. He didn't break anything this time, figuring that since he had destroyed all of her dishes already he had done enough of that. He did, however, make sure to follow her around the house and annoy her as much as possible. If he couldn't scare her off, maybe he could make life so unbearable she would leave.

  This continued for the next few weeks, Pippa ignoring him and eating off of paper plates, drinking from her only remaining coffee mug, while he tried to think of new things to taunt her with.

  Pippa would vacuum, Griffin would make the electric cord wiggle loose.

  She would start water to boiling, and the pot would fly off the stove.

  After printing out her orders and stacking them up, he would send them flying all over the room.

  He had taken to resting during the evening, giving her a short time of relaxation, before making everything in the house rattle and shake so she was unable to sleep. Every night she would cover her head with a pillow in an attempt to block out the sounds of cabinet doors slamming shut, the TV blaring nothing but static, and her stereo cranked up to full volume. He would sing made up songs at the top of his lungs directly into her ears. Every once in a while he would make her bed, delivered by much more polite moving men, shake and rumble just to keep her off balance. By the time a month in her new home had gone by, poor Pippa was pale and had bags under eyes, carrying out her work orders on auto-pilot. She was exhausted, but refused to give in and leave her home. With the cost of moving over here, she couldn’t have gone even if she had wanted to. The night time attacks became worse and worse as Griffin got more frustrated with his non-existent rate of success at driving her away.

  One afternoon, as Pippa sat at her sewing machine to piece together a new quilt, Griffin made the table jump at just the wrong moment, causing her finger to slip under the needle. She shrieked and jerked back, sticking the bloody finger in her mouth as she ran to the kitchen. He felt horrible as he watched her run cold water over the wound, tears pouring down her face.

  "Shit, Pippa, I am so sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen!" He forgot momentarily about his lack of a physical presence and tried put his hand on her back, only to have it go right through her. She didn't notice though; her vision was too blurry. "Does...does it hurt that bad?"

  She shook her head and turned the water off, wrapping a paper towel around the finger. "It hurts, but that's not why I'm crying."

  Griffin looked down at her, confused. "Then what's wrong with you?"

  Her head whipped around to pin him with a watery glare. "Just because you can't live, doesn't mean that no one else should! I know you don't like that you can't do things like take a bloody breath, but you don't have to make every one of mine a living hell! You're driving me batty, yes, but guess what, Griffy old boy! I'm not leaving! I will stay here in this house, use it for my own personal insane asylum, and you will never hear the last of me, not until I'm dead and buried in the ground right there with you!" She turned her back on him and sobbed quietly, trying to regain control of herself. She had just had too much, and had been pushed to the point where a good old fashioned melt down was the only solution.

  Griffin didn't understand this, and wanted to help her. He suddenly realized that he had, indeed, put her through more hell than any one person deserved. All of his shenanigans and pranks, and she was still here. He thought of all the times she had spoken kindly to him, and this was the first time she had ever really screamed at him like this. He had gone too far.

  "Pippa, I'm so sorry," he said.

  She took a deep breath. "Listen, I think it's time we had a talk. If you don't stop, I do know ways to get rid of you..."