Finally, his home came into view around a green patch of holly bushes, the long driveway wound around a series of cherry trees leading up to the house. He steered the BMW past the entrance gate, knowing that his presence had just been announced inside the house. Following the path between the cherry trees, he brought the car up the driveway and around a late nineties model Camry he was unfamiliar with, probably his car.
He tore his eyes from the Camry and tried to peer into the house through the large glass front door. It was frosted, a useless effort he knew, but he still felt he should try. Pressing the garage door button above the rearview mirror, he drove on as the garage door opened and then swallowed his car whole.
Dalton brought the car to a stop and cut the engine. He sat still, eyes glued to the door. Behind it was the kitchen and then behind that he assumed he would find Mara and Lenore, and Nathan, trapped in his own home with who knew who. His hands shook. His mind went to the hedge clippers just feet away from him in the storage closet on the opposite end of the garage. He wanted a weapon, he needed a weapon. But, he knew better. Instead, he emptied his pockets into the center console. A set of black and blue pens he always carried, his wallet and lastly his phone, his one chance at reaching someone. He stared down at the device and huffed.
He stepped out of the car and shut the door. What am I going to do? His whole body shook as he approached the kitchen door. Standing with his hand outstretched, hovering over the doorknob, he inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.
Then he turned the knob.
CHAPTER 9
Raucous screams shrieked from the neighboring room. Aiden jerked a step back and peered around the corner, trying to seeing past the writhing bodies and flashing lights. Finally, the screams died down to riotous laughter and he found the source.
A tall boy. A senior if Aiden was right. The boy had his body pressed tight to a younger girl dressed in a skin-tight black dress that was lucky to reach below her ass and a set of cat ears atop her head. He was nibbling playfully on her neck before he pulled back revealing a set of large fake vampire teeth to go along with his overly dramatic Count Dracula cape. The two had apparently been playing out a scene from the movies and it had garnered more attention than just Aiden’s. Half the room was in one state or another looking on at the spectacle.
“I guess some girls are into that,” Mason said.
“Guess so,” Aiden shook his head playfully, holding his cloth Spidey mask in his left hand. He returned his attention back to their small group. They stood over in the corner of the house’s living area by a mammoth black display case that held all manner of art. Aiden could not begin to fathom the point behind a single piece of it.
“So have you all seen that new Eli Roth movie?” Gage asked. He was a stocky guy, tall, football material if he would ever try out. The flashing orange and white lights muted his icy blue eyes and tea brown hair.
“Yeah, that’s some messed up shit, man,” Brian reacted before anyone else could speak up in his usual manner. His brown eyes matched his ear-length close-cropped hair. Brian's slender build extended up to his face, but it did not hold him back from being a star-athlete on the school baseball team. He held the third highest record in school history for homeruns in a season. He always said he was going to beat even that before he graduated.
Mason grinned before chiming in with his own thoughts, “Oh yeah, and the main woman in it. Talk about hot.”
The group’s collective gaze settled on Aiden, expecting his input. He sighed, “I’ve not watched it. You guys know my stomach cannot handle all the gore.”
“A little blood too much for you, Aiden?” Gage jested.
“You call that a little blood?” Aiden asked. “Didn’t they say it made his last movie look like child’s play or something?”
Mason patted him on the back, “Yeah, and they meant every word of it.”
Aiden intentionally shivered at the thought. His stomach just could not take it. The guts, the flying pieces of meat, the hands ripping at tender flesh, blood pouring from open wounds. It made his insides roll at the simple thought.
“Well, it was great,” Brian chimed back in.
The conversation continued along the same avenue for the next five minutes, recounting every gory detail and psychotic mental element. Aiden let his ears drown out their voices with the thumping beat that enveloped the room and the unintelligible voices from neighboring conversations or high-pitched giggles. The occasional nod was enough.
As Gage switched gears to another recent movie, Aiden let his eyes scan the crowd behind him. So many familiar but unfamiliar faces. People he had went to middle school with and now attended high school with for years but had never spoken to. Others that he was well aware of. Jacob from biology class stood in the corner with a questionable beverage in a red solo cup talking to his girlfriend, Sarah, who was dressed in a naughty nurse outfit. At least they were talking, if people could communicate through mouth to mouth. He wondered when the two took the time to breathe.
Next to them were two faces he had never seen before. Maybe they went to Northwest Cabarrus, maybe not. A few feet more and Aiden found a group of girls sitting along a vast set of black leather couches in the center of the room. All Aiden knew for sure was that they were juniors, gorgeous juniors. Lots of long blond and brown hair, slim curvy bodies and short skirts. Behind them was the unofficial dance floor. He counted at least four couples doing one dance or another, or some excuse for a dance. Most of the dances were more an excuse to twist and rub body against body without calling it foreplay.
A gap opened in the “dance floor” and his eyes locked onto Faith Moreno. She stood across the room, cup in hand, talking to one of her friends. He smiled, then smiled even more when he noticed her costume. She was dressed in the iconic Wonder Woman outfit. He could not help but move his eyes over her. Strong tan legs, small waist above an ample posterior. She held her chest high, exaggerating her already appealing form which the low-fitting costume held back. Thick flat crimson painted lips, broad jaw. And emerald green eyes that Aiden could not get enough of yet he could never manage to maintain eye contact with at the same time. Her long brown, nearly black, hair hung in gentle waves below her shoulders.
Step aside, Gal Gadot and Linda Carter. You’ve got nothing on Faith, Aiden thought.
“Aiden. Aiden!” Gage’s voice managed to pierce the cacophony of noises that competed for Aiden's attention.
Aiden turned in surprise, “Yeah. Sorry, I got distracted.”
“Yeah, why don’t you go talk to her rather than standing here awkwardly staring at her,” Gage suggested with a raised brow.
“I’m with Gage,” Mason piped in. “It’s about time you finally did it.”
“You better hurry,” Brian jumped in on the peer pressure. “Otherwise I’d be happy to let Wonder Woman over there lasso me in.”
“Slow down there, Brian,” Aiden put his hand up. “If that lasso’s getting anyone, it’s me.”
“Then you might want to go on over there then,” Mason urged. “We’ll be all right without you for a little bit. I promise.”
Aiden grinned at Mason and shook his head. Mason had tried in one way or another to get Aiden to talk to Faith for the past two years. And failed. If Aiden was honest, he was glad his friend was persistent, but at times he just wished he would shut up. Now was not one of those times. It may be just the incentive he needed to finally speak to her, to really talk to her.
“Okay,” Aiden said.
The surprised expressions on his friends’ faces, mouths hanging open as wide as their eyes, said all he needed to know. Aiden shook his head. Before he could second guess himself, Aiden about-faced and started off across the large space. He angled between everything from a Mike Myers look-a-like to a massively bloated Minion. He involuntarily jumped a step when an ample-breasted witch decided to slide a palm over his butt. He glanced behind him at the grinning witch, gave her a nervous grin and swallowed before turning and resuming
his calm walk.
Finally out of the most crowded area, he made his final approach. What do I say? Hello, Faith. Hey, Faith. No. Faith, I’m surprised to see you here. No, that’s stupid, she told you she’d be here at school today.
“So how’s the Amazon these days?” Aiden blurted out. His voice was as awkward as the choice of phrase was cheesy. He kicked himself. Anything would have been better than that. Anything.
She turned and locked eyes with him. Her emerald green eyes were easily the most beautiful green he could fathom. She may not have the height of the Amazonian, but she honored the grandeur and dignified presence of any Amazonian, past or present.
“It’s good,” Faith replied with a large smile. “How’s Queens?”
Suddenly, he no longer felt stupid. She was perfect, just as she had always been. Aiden laughed.
“I’ve just been hanging around.” He put a hand to his mouth and coughed. “Ah, now that was cheesy.”
Faith laughed, not at him actually, but rather with him. Aiden captured the sight of her smile like a photograph, an image he would keep on record.
“Yeah, it was,” she said between laughs. “But that never stopped you before, now did it?”
“No, don’t think so.”
For a moment the two stared awkwardly at each other. A multitude of shared childhood memories sprung into Aiden’s mind. The silly antics of elementary school kids. Building elaborate blanket forts in Faith’s playroom. His old red bike imagined as a car in hot pursuit of her imaginary vehicle.
“So,” Faith ventured. “What do you think of the upcoming DC movie?”
Saved from his utter despair at having actually wandered over to see her without the words to say, Aiden nodded his head vigorously. For minutes they talked about the newest installment in DC’s comic to movie series, The Flash. Aiden failed to realize how easy his words flowed, how he was actually talking to her again, and he didn't absolutely suck at it. It was an act he thought he could not manage just ten minutes ago.
After exhausting the upcoming movie's many rumors, Faith looked down nervously. Her mouth twitched subtly. When she looked back up, she was no longer smiling brilliantly as she had been just seconds ago. A serious demeanor had taken over.
“Why did you stop talking to me?” she asked. Her smooth voice held an almost hurt tone.
“What do you mean?” Aiden asked, confused. No. Don't ask that question. Please don't.
“No, I mean why did you stop talking to me after eighth grade?” she clarified, boring her eyes into his, searching for an answer.
Aiden looked away skittishly. He had hoped the question would not surface, that they could just glaze over it. So much for hope. The truth was simple, but he could not speak it, not to her.
“I don’t know. I just did,” Aiden said without meeting her eyes. “Things just got awkward for some reason.”
“Awkward?” she dug.
“Yeah, awkward,” he said. “I don’t know why, they just did.”
Fighting the urge to tuck tail and run, Aiden punched himself inside and lied to her. Well, maybe not a lie. An omission. No, he knew it was a lie, the real reason was integral to the whole, not some outlier. They had been best friends since before he could remember. They grew up together, pre-school, elementary school and middle school. Only high school had been different, separate. It had been at the end of their eighth grade year when he distanced himself, and it really was simple. He thought of her as more than just a friend, a friendship that could be more maybe. But, there was always a but, he had felt too foolish to say anything. Instead, he built up a wall that ended in the empty chasm that stood between them now. He felt like a coward standing in front of her now.
“Well, that’s just nonsense,” Faith grinned again, tossing a deep brown lock back over her shoulder. “I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me again. Even if I do happen to be dressed like Wonder Woman."
The door cracked open to reveal the kitchen much as it had been when Dalton had made his exit for work earlier that morning. The sink was empty, as were most of the cabinet tops with the exception of a lone glass that came into view at the far end of the room and the toaster oven. There was no sign of anyone.
Dalton let out the breath he was holding. His eyes scanned as he stepped up on to the threshold and entered the kitchen. He stole a look back into the garage where his BMW sat, engine beginning to cool. For a brief second his mind urged him to retreat, to bolt back to the car and down the road. To go anywhere but right into certain trouble. But Mara was here somewhere, scared and distressed. Her blue eyes and big smile flashed through his mind. Mara. And Lenore, she needed him, too.
What am I going to do? What can I do?
His mind rushed with question after unanswerable question. No scenario was certain, and every action he devised was sure to end less than desirably, even disastrously. He wanted to call the cops, retreat back into the garage and wait. Dalton’s thoughts went to the knives stashed in the utensil drawer, his eyes followed and he stepped toward the drawer.
If I so much as think you’re trying some brave heroic shit, I’ll slit both their throats. Right in front of you. The words ran through Dalton’s mind like a neon light. He stopped, losing his gaze to the tile floor. He took a breath and stepped forward. His heart beat hard against his ribcage, its rhythm thrumming in his ears.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Dalton,” a raspy but youthful voice called from around the corner. Dalton froze. It was the voice on the phone. “Come on in, I’m just dying to begin.”
Willing himself to move his feet, Dalton trudged forward. He glued his eyes to the dividing wall that would soon reveal the living area, and whoever dwelled behind it. Five feet felt like five miles, like a tight-wire strung taught between the roofs of two skyscrapers.
He exhaled carefully as he breached the corner and Lenore came into view. Tears stained her face, fear stamped across her eyes. Dalton’s heart sank an inch, then he saw Mara in the same disheveled state and his heart dropped. He had not been there for them. The need to protect prompted him to step out into the open. Immediately he found the masked intruders standing just feet from his life. He took in every detail.
The figure closest to Mara was the thickest of the three, but for his height, his build was average at best. The jeans and band t-shirt indicated either a male or extremely flat-chested female, of at least fifteen or fourteen years. Dark gloves concealed their hands. The creepy Freddie Krueger mask was overly theatrical but did its job, only revealing the smallest bit of the boy's eyes.
Standing in front of Lenore, the next figure was largely in contrast to the former. Visibly shorter, a male, boy, Dalton thought. His black skinny jeans betrayed his thin frame and made him an unusual candidate for the large curved blade in his right hand. The red skull mask only further made the boy behind the mask an enigma, casting a demonic glare to his spindly presence.
A step behind the other two stood the last intruder. Dressed in black jeans, a simple black t-shirt and a white mask with a bullet hole in the forehead, he was adorned in the simplest disguise. Yet, the sight of his large black eyes staring back at Dalton in contrast to the white mask jarred Dalton. Then he spoke.
“Welcome, Dalton,” he said, affirming Dalton’s assumption. His voice was the one on the phone, that raspy devil that rung in his head like some tormenting demon.
“It sure did take him long enough,” Skull-face rattled.
Dalton checked another point off in his mind. Teenagers. The immaturity in their voices betrayed them. Maybe he could use that to his advantage, he thought. Maybe they were just on a momentary high, drugged out, or just out for a few kicks. The sight of Nathan lying barely conscious on the floor complicated his theory, though. Still, drugs were a possible culprit.
The faint rising and falling of Nathan’s chest assured Dalton he was still alive despite the bloody gash across his neck. Dalton cringed, diverting his eyes to Mara and then Lenore.
“Are you okay?
” he pleaded more than asked.
Neither spoke. Lenore nodded sporadically while Mara whimpered, her eyes digging into Dalton’s heart and then shooting back to Nathan on the floor. Dalton held back the tears that their looks caused to well up inside of him. His heart broke as quickly as it burst into a fury of flames. It burned hot, a hatred he had never felt before, all aimed at the three kids that threatened his family. His eyes shot to the middle boy, the one who seemed to be at the lead. Dalton stepped forward aggressively.
“Slowly now,” Bullet ordered. Before Dalton had time to think, the boy placed his feet squarely in front of Lenore and lowered the tip of his long silver blade precariously under her chin. “You wouldn’t want me to accidently slit her throat now, would you?”
Dalton froze, his feet steeled in place. He reached out as if by some mere will of the mind he could stop whatever ill intent the boy had ravaging through his mind. Lenore’s eyes widened and her chin lifted in a futile attempt to put space between skin and blade. Her breathing quickened, as did Dalton’s.
“Come on now.” The words came from Skull-face. It took Dalton a moment to connect the octave-too-high voice with the red mask. “Sit.”
Following the spindly digits on the boy’s hands, Dalton stepped carefully forward. He came around the recliner where he was expected to take up residence. The boy did not move as Dalton stepped inches from his body. He was confident in his status as captor and Dalton’s as captive. Dalton slowly took a seat and sank into the cushy leather recliner. He kept his eyes on those of the skull mask, wondering what face lie beneath it. Something deformed and hideous came to mind, something that matched the boy's outward character.
He let his eyes meet Lenore’s and then Mara’s, trying to console them. He knew that simply being here could do little to assuage their fears, but he would still try his best. Dalton’s eyes fixed on Lenore again. Had she been calling all night, confined here by these…these freaks? He grinned sadly at her, trying to apologize. No apology could ever make up for that. Never. Just under the frown he saw her force a tiny smile. It was barely perceptible to the naked eye, but enough. He knew he didn’t deserve even that.
To Watch You Bleed Page 10
