by Evelyn Glass
The rain began to pick up again and the ivy leaves, lush and green, started to tremble with the weight of the downpour. In the dark, they looked like a massive swarm of bats, sucking the life right out of the building.
“You’re sure it’s safe? The place looks like it is about to fall in.”
Jess snickered. “Just follow my lead. I’ve been in there dozens of times.”
“Let’s get inside then,” Scott said, restarting the bike and maneuvering it up the curb and closer to the front door. “Were getting soaked out here.”
He parked his bike and she slid off, waiting while he eased the bike onto the stand and made sure it wouldn’t tumble to the ground.
Jesus, what a dark little fairy tale this is turning out to be, she thought. She took his hand and was surprised when he didn’t let go. Rather, he allowed her to lead him up to the cracked stone steps to the massive double front door.
“Do you have a key?” he asked, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes.
Jess thought for a second he sounded a bit nervous. She smiled to herself. This is how slasher movies started. He didn’t know her any more about her than she knew about him, and although she could hear her mother and Val’s collective voices screaming in the back of her head for her to stop, she ignored them completely. “Watch and learn,” she replied with a grin. Leaning against the right door, she pushed her hips into the spot beside the lock and then gave it a firm hip check. There was a loud bang and Jess stepped back for dramatic effect as the scarred oak door swung open with a creak. She was pleased when Scott laughed, pleased not only because of what she did, but because of that understated chuckle of his, more of a tiger growl than a laugh.
“I’m impressed,” he said. “Truly a woman with talented hips.”
She giggled and without thinking, took his hand and led him inside. If he played his cards right, he might find out what else I can do with my hips. “Just you wait.”
Walking into the dark, she could hear Scott catch his breath beside her. She had to admit it was still an impressive sight. They stood in an enormous entry, the oak paneling and black marble floors dust-coated and scarred, but it was impossible to hide the opulence of the place. Before them, as if inviting the two to journey up, was a broad staircase of the same icy black stone that covered the floor. Back in its heyday, it must’ve been magnificent.
Scott looked around dramatically as if looking for something. “Why do I feel like I just stepped into a slasher movie?”
Jess giggled in delight again, enjoying that he was thinking the same thing she was. “This house was built in 1887 for James Scott. He created the Scott Foundation. The style is Victorian, or maybe Richardson Romanesque. Can imagine this place, back when it was new?”
Scott looked at her, impressed that she seemed to know so much about the house, recalling facts with ease. “You seem to know a lot about it.”
She looked down and smiled. “Yeah. I love these old places. I used to explore them when I was younger. I would give a lot to see this place restored to its former glory.”
He looked around again, taking in the place. It was no doubt impressive, but to restore it would probably cost millions. He looked up, watching the rain dribbling in through the holes in the ceiling and puddling on the marble with splatter. He let his hand slip out of hers as he moved, transfixed by the place, stepping over debris and dodging drips. He walked past the rotting sofas, piled with beer cans from a party long ago, and ran his hand along the peeled wallpaper. There were dark spots where pictures had once hung, now replaced by gang tags and amateur graffiti, but in the pale light from the city he could just make out the pattern. He was awestruck that a home such as this could be sitting, abandoned and forlorn, in the middle of the city. Even Detroit.
Jess nervously waited for him to say something. Would he demand they leave? Would this decrepit castle be enough to send him packing? He stopped at the foot of the stair, staring up them. Even in the dark, Jess could see a broad smile across his face when he turned and her smile joined his in relief.
“This is quite the clubhouse you’ve got here. We used to hang out in barns where I grew up, but you hung out in a castle,” he said, his voice loud and full in the empty room. He looked back up the stairs and stepped up onto the first tread. “I want to see it all.”
Chapter Eleven
She left her room for last. Out of every crumbling part of the house she took Scott through, steering him around the weak points in the floor, it was the one room that had the most emotional impact for her. She hadn’t been back since the night her mom had appeared above her, shining a flashlight into her face and filling the empty house with her wailing. Her mother told her later she had been missing for three days, but, to Jess, it had only seemed like hours.
Indulging her love of history, Ron had taken her by this house many times when she was growing up. She had always planned on living in it one day. If they had bothered to tell Ron she was missing, he probably would’ve found her right away. As it was, Kat and Val had exhausted all possible spots before remembering her obsession with this place. When the bright light of Kat’s flashlight had exploded into the room and into her eyes, it was like being shaken awake from a deep sleep. It was only then that she noticed the blood that seemed to cover her from head to toe, dried in spots and still moist in others. She hadn’t even noticed the injury that would take seven stitches to close and more than a month to heal. Had she even gotten off the bed? She had tried to piece together those missing days many times, but she never got much further than a few memories of the house. She could tell you how many pigeons had cooed to her from the broken rafters, and the exact pattern of the wallpaper she had stared at, but beyond that, she was lost.
Now, one year later, she stood outside the door and hesitated. By opening it and taking Scott inside, she was exposing herself to him. I’m putting it all at risk. Why do I feel like I have to tell him? Why do I want to so badly? Is it because he is a Grim Angels? Is that why I want to let him in?
He had walked, slowly and with a quiet reverence, throughout the entire mansion, stepping where she told him to step, never questioning her authority. Through every burned out room and every dark hallway, from the flooded basement to the attic, he had held her hand and let her lead him as she told him about the place. She had met him only two hours before, but for some reason felt like she owed him her story.
“What’s behind door number one?” He had been staring at her, watching her as she chewed on her lower lip, her hand hovering above the tarnished doorknob.
Open it and everything will come rushing out. Open it and he’ll know. That’s ridiculous, Jess thought. He’ll only know what I tell him, and by the jacket that he wears, he wouldn’t be best choice for a confidante. He was connected to what she had done, whether he knew it or not. In fact, she was the reason he was here.
“How long have you been with the Grim Angels?” she asked, speaking before she knew what she was going to say.
He looked taken aback at her sudden switch in tone, and she immediately regretted the question. “Ever since I was a kid. Ten years or so. You know about them?” Jess stared into his eyes as if judging him. He found himself unable to think about much with those massive, velvet-painting eyes, pinning him where he stood.
“You could say that.”
“You don’t like bikers? Afraid I’m the big bad wolf?” he asked, his tone carrying a bit of worry, nervousness even. Normally a girl couldn’t wait to leap onto bike and piss off her parents. But this one, she was different. He tried to be charming but it was lost on her. She was still staring at him like she was in the middle of making some crucial decision.
“I have a lot of experience with big bad wolves.”
She turned the knob to the room and swung the door open before letting go of his hand and walking slowly into the room. It looked like every other room they had been in that night, but there was something in the way she moved that told him there was something more here.
The walls were covered in elaborate antique wallpaper, some of it peeling in waterfalls, some of it torn off in chunks. The city light shone through two massive windows and down from a sizeable hole in the roof, cutting into the darkness like a spotlight. The only real difference Scott could see was a sizable bed against the far wall. Whoever had done the looting over the years seemed to have missed it. And no wonder. By the size of it, it would take at least four men bigger than him to even shuffle it across the floor.
As if in a trance, Jess moved to it. She ran her hands over the elaborately carved footboard, tracing the design with her fingertips before dragging her fingers along the moldy mattress. She stopped near the middle of the bed, her hand hovering over dark stain.
“What the fuck happened here?” Scott asked, moving to her side, stepping around the dripping rain. It looked like a bloodstain, and a big one. It was an old stain, however, the kind of dark and crusted maroon that signaled that more than a few months had gone by.
Jess looked up suddenly at the hole in the roof. “They’re still here,” she whispered.
Despite himself, Scott was starting to get a little creeped out. Between the decrepit old mansion, blood-stained beds, the far off rumble of distant thunder and the haunted look on this girl’s face, he could feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck. Any other time he would’ve branded this evening as some weird Scooby Doo shit and called it a night. But he couldn’t let it go, not tonight. “Who?” he asked, involuntarily checking to make sure his weapon was still at his back.
“The pigeons. Can you hear them? Listen… ”
He could. Their gentle bubbling murmurs came from the hole in the roof, almost lost in the constant tapping of the rain on the floorboards.
Jess smiled softly “It’s been a year and they’re still here.”
“What happened in here, Jessica?”
She looked at him again and he could tell that somewhere between opening the door and hearing the birds, she had made a decision. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped the jacket from her shoulders and dropped it onto the mattress where it almost covered the stain. She took both of his hands and silently pressed them to her neck, wrapping them around her thin throat.
The touch of her skin sent a shock through him and before he could think about it, he pulled her toward him. Inches apart, he could feel her breathing rapidly, soft against his own lips. Every part of him wanted to kiss her, to be inside of her, to touch every inch of that incredible, lithe body, and to understand every part of her. Gently, he kissed her lower lip. Still holding her throat and jaw, he could feel her heart beat, thumping surprisingly strong against his hands. He deepened the kiss, reveling in the feel of those full lips against his.
She returned the kiss, tentatively touching his tongue with hers, her mouth opening wet and warm against his. The house and room fell away around them, everything disappearing except for the kiss.
Feeling her tongue against his sent heat roaring through his body. Starting at the back of his head and radiating downward, a wave of lust unlike anything he’d felt before almost made him dizzy. So this is what it was like. She took his hands from where they still held her and moved them down to her breasts. Despite himself, despite the countless other breasts he had fondled in his lifetime, he found himself gasping into her open mouth. He cupped one, full and firm beneath the still moist fabric of her shirt, and gently squeezed.
She pressed herself against him harder, returning every fevered kiss he gave, gripping the back of his head to keep herself from falling to the floor and taking him with her. She could feel him growing harder against her stomach, his erection pushing against the button fly on his jeans. She wanted to touch it so badly, feel it thick and warm in her hand. She wanted to tear those jeans open, tug them down over his hips and feel him in every way imaginable. She moved her hand from the tangled wetness of his hair and slid it down over his chest, tracing the solid contours of his pecs, his ribs, and each individual muscle that fluttered in his stomach as she moved her hand lower. When she got to his belt, he let out a low moan.
“Oh Jesus, Jessica.”
“Jess…” she whispered before taking his lips again. The sound of his voice, ragged with arousal, sent a knee-weakening throb to her clit. She felt herself moistening, throbbing deep inside with every artful swirl his tongue made around hers. She wanted to devour him. She wanted to fill her mouth with the taste of his salty skin.
He had slipped his hand under her shirt and traced the lace of her bra where it lay against the roundness of her breast before pushing it back, exposing her nipple. Already hard with her arousal, it grew even more so against the warmth of his palm. Unable to control himself any longer, Scott suddenly picked her up and tossed her onto the jacket. This girl…what was it about her? Her eyes bright with arousal, her cheeks rosy like some kind of erotic Snow White, there was nothing he wanted more than to bury himself as deep inside her as he could. He wanted to plunge into her, drive the length of himself through her and fuck the mystery right out of her. The skirt she had fiddled with so much earlier had bunched up and the sight of her deep red panties blinded him with lust. He found himself uttering words that he had never spoken to any woman before her.
“You are so fucking beautiful. So beautiful,” he whispered as he crawled over the bed and on top of her like some kind of jungle cat, parting her legs and swooping himself between them in one movement.
She kissed him again, slamming her mouth against his ferociously, her need consuming her like a wildfire.
His cock ached against the denim of his jeans and he ground himself into her. She began to rotate her hips instinctively, the beautiful arc of her hipbones pressing into him. If she kept that up, he knew he’d come in pants like a teenager. He broke off the kiss and lifted himself up on his elbows to get a good look at her. He needed to slow down. Something about the idea of this ever ending was making him nervous. He’d had too many one-night stands and quickies in his life. He had to know.
“I want to see you again,” he murmured, staring into her eyes, trying to read what he saw there. Once again, he seemed to have no control of what he said around this woman. That made two things he’d never said to a woman in less than ten minutes.
Jess’s eyes widened before she smiled. “Like a date?”
“Yes, like a date. I want to know about you. Buy you a soda, a beer, I don’t know. Make love to you somewhere where there isn’t a blood stain.” The look in Jess’s eyes changed the instant the words were out, the warmth replaced with the same darkness he had seen before they entered the room.
“Oh my god!” she whispered. “You’re right! Oh my god! I shouldn’t even be here! Can you…” She pushed at him furiously and then practically jumped out of the bed. She yanked her skirt down and nervously tied her hair back where it had fallen out.
“Okay, no date. That’s fine,” Scott whispered frantically, trying to repair whatever damage he had done. “What did I say? What’s wrong?”
She wouldn’t even look at him. “We should go. It’s late.”
“I don’t want to go, Jess. What is going on?” He stood up and tried to pull her toward him but she stepped back.
“I’m not who you think I am, Scott. I’m connected.”
“Connected? Connected to what?” What could she possibly be connected to that would be a cause for such drama?
“To the Grim Angels, the same as you are.”
“What? Are you dating someone? Are you someone’s old lady? Is that it?”
She rolled her eyes and nearly stomped her foot in impatience. “No...it’s not that.” She sighed and looked up at his lovely face. “I’m part of the family. Look, can we just go? I need to get home.” She turned away, her head down.
Scott reached out and took her by the shoulders, and gently turned her to face him. Her arms crossed, she did her best to avoid his intense gaze, but he gently tipped her face up until she had to meet his eyes.
“So what? I’m
a part of it, too. Why does that make a difference?” Scott was surprised to see Jess’s eyes reddening and filling with tears. She looked so vulnerable and felt small under his hands.
“I did something, Scott. I did something that caused a lot of trouble.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “Who hasn’t?”
She wiped the tears from her face and took a deep breath, “I…want to tell you. I probably need to, but not tonight. Please.”
She kissed him again, soft and sweet. He could feel himself becoming aroused again, his heart and his mind racing, but he wasn’t sure he could take any more of this confusion. “Okay, but…”
“Please, just take me home.”
Chapter Twelve
“Never too early for the good stuff,” Val said and then breathed cigarette smoke out of his nostrils like a dragon. “Beats the shit out of milk and cereal. You want ice?” he asked after he tipped the bourbon bottle and filled the three glasses he had lined up in front of him, sliding the farthest one over to Scott.
