I felt horrible. I should have kept my mouth shut. It was none of my business, and he should have never felt as if he had to tell me that.
“I’m sorry.”
He grabbed his pen and made a few marks on the pages in front of him. “It’s fine. The doctors are optimistic.”
“How about you?”
He dropped the pen and ran both hands over his hair. “I have to be. For my wife. I think she’s more torn up over this than I am.”
“I can imagine.” The words fell flat. I didn’t know what else to say. I was horrible in these situations.
“Let’s get back to it, shall we?”
I grasped my coffee cup and put it to my lips before nodding. It was chilled now. Not very appealing, so I put it back down without taking a sip.
“In the event of your death, shall your granddaughter be contacted to handle all the legal work and burial arrangements?”
“No.”
“But Frank—”
“Under no circumstances should Piper be contacted. I don’t want her coming back to Alabama. She shouldn’t even know when something happens to me. A close family friend named Sandy Gillmore will handle everything.”
Ben scribbled something down, making sure to take notes. “Would you like to be buried in your hometown near your brother, or where?”
Next to Gayle was the only place I wanted to be. She’d wanted to be cremated, and she had been. Her ashes sat beside our bed to keep her near me. The urn would be buried with me since I preferred to be put into the ground.
“I never want to be back in my hometown. That place holds unspeakable memories for me.” My fingers looped through the handle of the mug. I inhaled deeply, dragging in the smell of the coffee. “The cemetery at the end of Old Colleen Road will do just fine. I already paid for a lot there years ago.”
“Devil’s Gate Cemetery? Do you really think people want to go there for your burial? Most of the people in town are creeped out by it.”
“It’s called EverLife Cemetery. Devil’s Gate Cemetery is just something the teenagers in town cooked up years ago. It’s a perfectly nice place.”
“It’s at a dead end of a road that’s undriveable now. Far from nice.”
I threw him a dagger-sharp glare.
He held up his palms. “I’m not trying to argue with you. You get what you want. But can I ask why you don’t want to be with your family in your hometown?”
I stretched my neck, not wanting to think back to that place.
I hated when my thoughts drifted back there. If I could block it completely, I would. I looked back at the frames. An old black and white photo rested there. One of me at the age of around eleven and my six-year-old brother. Someone I would lay my life down for. Someone I had tried to lay my life down for.
“That place…” My voice faltered. “…it just isn’t good.” Guilt, remorse, and sadness were only a few of the emotions I’d experienced on the spectrum, staring at my dead brother.
“Aw… come on, Frankie Boy. It wasn’t all bad. Was it?”
My eyes darted back to Ben. The thinning man whose suit hung off him, showing his weight loss was still there, but his eyes … milky white. The corners of his mouth pulled up, drawing his cheeks into wrinkled waves that matched his creased forehead.
I jumped up, shoving the chair into the baker’s rack behind me. Plates shattered from their spots, sending dust flying about the room. His smile didn’t falter. He sat perfectly still with it plastered across his face. It was pulled so tight it looked painful. It had to be. I was sure on the inside Ben was screaming, but there was no way this thing was letting go of him until he was done. Even then, he probably wouldn’t survive.
“How did you— What are you—” I couldn’t form a complete question. I thought I had gotten away. I thought I would never have to see it again. But here it was, sitting at my kitchen table in my lawyer’s body.
He gracefully pushed back from the table; letting his hands rest on the edge a moment before standing. “Normally, I would’ve picked a healthier body for this type of thing.” His eyes rolled up toward me, giving me that thousand-watt PR smile again. “Because you know I don’t like to travel. But the year has come to collect on what was promised to me.”
My body shook. I closed my eyes, fighting to stop it. But I couldn’t. I pinched them harder; trying to convince myself this wasn’t real. He wasn’t real. I peeled them open, just enough to peek through the lashes.
He stood like a poised statue.
“She isn’t yours. You’ll never have her!” I screamed at him.
He lurched at me, losing his elegant composure and replacing it with malice. An inch from my face, he stopped, grabbing a handful of my shirt. His brows curved in toward the bridge of his nose as his lips were barely visible due to being pulled so tightly across the teeth.
“You know as well as I do that isn’t true. Where is she?” His grip around my collar tightened, cutting into my skin.
“I’ll never tell you.”
He released my shirt and took a step back.
I flinched as his hands clapped my shoulders and patted a few times before inching down my arms as if he were straightening my shirt.
“You know I have my ways, Frankie Boy! Why make things so hard?” His head shook with a smirk.
Moving to the side, he gave me a view behind him. I saw them. The children. One in the middle nearly brought me to my knees.
“Thomas?” I cried out. I reached for him. My hand was slapped down within a second.
“That isn’t your Thomas anymore and hasn’t been for over fifty years.” He was right. The boy still looked just like the brother I loved, but he was an empty shell. Empty as his cold black eyes.
“I’ll find her. She will be mine,” he hissed near my ear.
Pain radiated up my left side, reaching my neck and jaw. It hurt so bad I couldn’t move. My body locked into an abnormal position as I cringed. Pressure built in my chest to the point I thought my heart would explode. I dropped back, managing to stretch out for the baker’s rack behind me for support. I doubled over as a wave of sickness hit my stomach.
“A heart attack now? Really?” He walked away from me and began pulling drawers out from the bar. Papers were tossed into the air, littering the floor. “Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.”
He stopped as another wave of pain hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew what he’d found. A letter I had folded and kept from Piper. It was from when she’d graduated from college. In the middle was a picture of her in her cap and gown. He flipped the picture over, a smile spreading across his wicked face.
“Quite beautiful,” he hissed as he put it to his nose. With a deep drag, he inhaled the scent, puffing his chest slightly. The milky eyes rolled in the back of his head before they closed. “Thanks for this, Frankie Boy. You can die now.”
I fell to my knees then completely collapsed, unable to stand any longer.
He stepped over me, followed by the children. He would find her.
And there was nothing I could do to stop it now.
I huddled in the corner, shaking uncontrollably. “He was here, Nolan. The man from outside.” I rocked, hugging myself. I closed my eyes only to see his face in front of me again. I screamed, cowering closer to the wall.
“Can you please shut her up!” Vivian said.
I looked up to find three sets of eyes staring down at me. One was laced with concern; the other two sets were stony.
“There’s no one here except you. Do you expect us to believe that ridiculous story about him bursting into black feathers?” Her arms flayed out to the sides as she stomped around the study. “Where are the feathers then?” She spat. “All I see is our expensive belongings scattered about the room and broken … by you!”
“Now, Vivian…” David started. He reached for her, but she instinctively jerked away and surveyed more of the possessions I’d knocked over in the dark. “The lights were off. Maybe she thought she saw someone.” David couldn�
��t care less about trying to come up with a reason as to why this had happened. He didn’t want to deal with his wife acting so hostile. The two of them began bickering, moving the broken items. Nolan squatted in front of me, taking my hand.
I wiped a tear away, causing a flinch. The pain in my arm made me choke. “My arm…”
Nolan’s eyes pulled together as the gently moved my elbow so he could get a better look.
I gnawed at my cheek to keep from screaming again.
Carefully he rolled my sleeve up, his mouth dropping as he saw the bruising.
“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he said. He reached under my legs and effortlessly scooped me into his arms. “You should call the cops,” he told his parents.
They stopped arguing and turned in our direction. “Where are you going?” David asked.
“I’m taking Piper to the emergency room. She has a wound on her arm, so I think she needs to get checked out. Someone was here.”
They followed us through the house, still arguing the fact that no one could have been in the room considering the window was down and locked, and they’d been on the outside of the door.
“Be careful. It’s still pouring out there,” Vivian said. She skirted in front of us and stopped at a table beside the door. “Here, take mine. It’s in the garage. At least that way you won’t get soaked getting to the car. Especially since you’re having to carry someone.”
Nolan took the keys and went out, leaving his parents behind.
“I can walk.” I said.
“We don’t know what injuries you have. I’m not chancing anything.” His grip tightened as if letting me know I didn’t have a choice but to let him carry me.
I closed my eyes again, my throat tight with fear that the man would reappear. But he didn’t. I clutched Nolan’s shirt as he put me in the passenger side and secured my seat belt.
The drive to the hospital was slow. The rain wasn’t letting up, and the streets were flooded, which caused the Mercedes to slide every so often. I gripped the seat belt with both hands, making the injury ache. The glow of hospital lights finally illuminated the car as we pulled under the awning away from the downpour.
Nolan jumped out, leaving me alone in the car while he went in the door. I leaned back, apprehensively closing my eyes, not wanting to think about being by myself again. Something soft hit my chest. My eyes shot open as I recoiled in terror from whatever touched me. I glanced down, staring at the object that had innocently landed there. The gasps tumbled helplessly from my lips as I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A faint unease coursed over me. With trembling fingers, I plucked the black feather from my lap and held it close to my face.
A movement in front of the car caught my attention. I gripped the feather tightly in my palm, sweat forming at my temples. A small silhouette that could barely be seen stood in the shadows at the corner of the brick building. I pinched my eyes together, hoping it would go away. Slowly peeling them open, a wave of despair struck me as I noticed the figure was still there. Every few seconds a movement would change the shape of the unseeable blackness. I reached for the lights, my hand resting against the lever, undecided as to whether to turn them on.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A second later, the door flew open, and the rushing sound of rain poured down around the awning. Nolan held the door firmly along the top as a gust of heavy wind pushed it toward him and the wheelchair beside him.
A nurse looked on with the utmost curiosity, her lips pulling into a thin line when my current state apparently didn’t seem to interest her.
“You ready to move?” he asked, giving me an onceover.
He reached in, but I stopped him. “Nolan, what is that over there in the shadow?”
He stepped back, looking in the direction I pointed.
The nurse looked too. Her eyes widened with what looked like new interest.
“I don’t see anything.”
I focused, unable to make out the figure any longer.
“Was it the man?” His jaw clenched as he reached for his cell.
“No!” I yelled as the wind began to howl. “I must have seen something being blown through the parking lot.”
Nolan didn’t look convinced. Neither did the nurse.
“I’m ready to go in.”
After shooing my attempts of moving to the wheelchair alone, Nolan placed me in the seat and carted me to the registration desk.
“Name?” a stout nurse asked, not bothering to look up from the paperwork she pushed through. She stamped something more aggressively than necessary and placed it in a tray to her right.
“I’ll take care of the registration, Beverly,” said the nurse behind me.
The stout nurse looked up, gave a grunt, and began her assault on the paperwork again.
“Mr. Foast and his parents are generous donators to the hospital, so it’s important they are well taken care of,” my nurse continued as if she needed to explain her actions.
Beverly tossed her the registration papers and waved us away.
My nurse skipped along in front of us, motioning Nolan to wheel me into a large room on the corner. “I’ll grab the doctor.” She left, shutting the door behind her.
“Seems like you’ve got some pull in this place,” I said, pushing myself into a standing position.
Nolan was at my side in a flash.
“You don’t need to walk.”
“Nolan, I think I can walk. It’s just my arm.”
“That you know of,” he interjected.
There was no point in arguing with him. He wouldn’t listen to me. He was waiting on a professional to tell him that I got a bruise from someone squeezing too hard. Because that’s all it was.
I lay back on the thin bed and stared up at the blinding-white ceiling. A brief knock on the door stiffened my posture.
The doctor came in with my chart in hand.
“What seems to be the problem…” His eyes scrolled up the paper. “…Ms. McAdams.” His gaze shifted to Nolan, and a warm grin spread over his face. “Nolan, nice to see you. How are your parents?”
Nolan’s shoulders slouched forward as his hands pushed farther into his slacks. “They’re fine. But can we get back to Piper?”
The doctor nodded, turning this attention back to me.”
“Well, someone grabbed my arm rather harshly.”
His mouth hung open slightly as if waiting for more. When I didn’t answer, he looked back to Nolan.
“Someone broke into my parents’ house tonight. Piper was locked in the room with him.”
The doctor crossed his arms and looked to Nolan, obviously forgetting about me once again. “Did the police catch him?”
Nolan’s head tilted down to the floor. “Not exactly. He was gone when we got into the room. No windows were open, and my parents and I were blocking the only door.”
Why was he telling him all this? Without saying another word, they seemed to be exchanging a conversation. Did he think I’d done this to myself?
I slowed my rapid breathing, which had become erratic during this conversation. I made myself talk calmly. “Can you please just look at my arm so I can leave?”
“Yes, yes. Certainly.” He walked over to the side I pointed to and began moving the sleeve.
“Doctor, I want you to check everything out. Even if she says it doesn’t hurt. Cat scans — everything. She could’ve hit her head and not remember. She was on the floor when I found her.”
“Oh my. That’s quite a bruise. You said this was just from someone squeezing it?”
I nodded.
“Looks like something more than just the strength of a man. It’s larger than a hand also. Odd. I’m going to press on your abdomen now, okay?”
The doctor did as Nolan had requested before he left the room. He examined me from head to toe along with every machine the hospital owned only to come to the conclusion that it was simply a bruised arm.
“Nolan wants us to keep you overnight. J
ust to be safe,” he said after I had been poked and prodded. He closed the door, talking to someone out in the hall — Nolan, probably. He had gone for coffee.
A little while later, I was comfortable lying in another bed, watching Chopped on the television. The door pushed open, but stopped before I could see who was behind it.
“Piper McAdams? It’s Officer Lopez. I was wondering if I could come in and have a word with you about the incident that occurred over at the Foast home tonight?”
Shit. Why did I tell Nolan it was okay to go home? I don’t want to have to deal with this tonight.
I pushed the button, making the bed move into a seated position. “Sure. Come on in.”
A tall guy with a form-fitting suit came into the room. The corners of his warm eyes crinkled as he smiled down at me.
“Have a seat.”
He looked around the room and sat in a chair at the foot of the bed, taking a small notebook out from his inside pocket.
“I’ve already spoken with both David and Vivian Foast—”
“I’m sure they’ve already told you that I was crazy then, huh?” I rolled my eyes, picturing the two of them enjoying the opportunity to bash me to a stranger.
He chuckled. “Not in so many words. But I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
I clenched and unclenched the sheet while biting my lip. He would think I was crazy too. Hell, I was beginning to think I’d made the entire thing up. I glanced to the side table, the black feather sitting there. No. It had happened.
“Well, it started with me seeing a man outside the house. He was just standing there, staring.”
“At you?” He wrote something down on his notebook.
I shook my head. “I don’t know what he was looking at. It was hard to see.”
“The security guy from the guard shack was able to get me a clear snapshot of the man from surveillance cameras. He reached into his pocket again and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He stood and walked to the side of my bed to hand it to me. “Is this the man you saw outside and in the house?”
I shivered, unable to take my eyes off the photo. It was blurry, but there was no denying it was him. “Yes.” I handed the picture back. My fingers locked in my lap to hide the shaking.
Chosen (The Urban Legends Series Book 1) Page 3
