by R. L. Weeks
He looked into my eyes as we paused for breath. “I didn’t expect this.” Axel’s eyes looked amber.
“Your eyes, they’re a different color.”
He blinked twice and moved away from me. Panicked, I reached out and pulled him close again. “I don’t care,” I said because I really didn’t.
In the moment, he looked vulnerable, if only for a few seconds.
Gentler this time, he slid his fingers down to my panties.
I let out a long moan. Feeling his fingers press against me through my panties made me wetter.
He let out a low growl, then moved my panties to the side.
He thrust two fingers inside, and I rocked against his fingers. Heat surged through my body, and he pulled his fingers out.
“I want to wait,” I blurted, even though it had felt so good. I bit my lip, anticipating his reply.
He leaned into me and kissed my cheek.
I flushed red.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
The words escaped my lips before I could make sense of them myself. “I don’t want to feel comfortable anymore.”
A microexpression of surprise flashed across his features. He wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me close to him. “For now, this is perfect.”
***
It was almost nighttime when I arrived home where I was met with a frantic Jackson. She ran straight up to me and hugged me tightly. “Whoa.” I laughed. “What did I do to deserve this?”
She looked up at me with a serious look. “There’s a serial killer on the loose, and he’s killing young girls like us… like you.” She looked at my hair. “There’s a curfew. I was wondering where you were today.”
She went on to fill me in on all the details she’d heard. It took me a while to process everything, but with everything I had read about the town, I wasn’t surprised. Everything I had been experiencing with Axel was quickly pushed to the back of my mind, and instead, those precious feelings were replaced with fear and uncertainty.
I trudged to my room, my eyelids feeling heavier with each step.
As the sun set, the curfew took hold of the town. I was suddenly the girl who needed protecting the most, all because of the color of my hair.
I took a deep breath, eyed the locked window, then closed my eyes. Sleep was a comfort tonight. With sleep came no fear and no responsibility, just a blissful period of unconsciousness before reality needed to be faced. All the questions, everything I had learned—Axel and the gruesome past of the town—floated in my eyes until the heaviness of sleep took me away from them.
I was standing alone in the forest when I opened my eyes. Something felt out of place as I looked around the misty trees. I was in the thick of the forest. The mossy mattress under my feet moved with hundreds of bugs scuttering under the safety of the canopy above. Dappled moonlight reached me. I shuddered when an icy breeze swept through the trees.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood erect as I turned full circle. I felt eyes on me from all angles, but I couldn’t sense any clue of a person hiding close to me. I pressed my lips together, holding in the whimper at the back of my throat. Slowly, afraid to make any sudden movements, I reached down to my pockets and felt for the outline of my phone. There was nothing except the outline of something small and heavy. I reached in there, and my fingertips hit the cold metal.
Suddenly, the forest fell dead silent. The absence of any background noise, in this case owls hooting and bugs crawling, was ironically deafening.
My own breaths were too loud. I covered my mouth with my hand and carefully treaded forward. I had no idea how I ended up in the forest late at night—when a curfew had been set—after I’d fallen asleep, but all that mattered to me now was to find a way back to the manor.
Close by, a scream rang out. My adrenaline spiked, coursing through my veins. I took off in a random direction, moving as quickly as I could manage so I wouldn’t slam into a tree. Twigs snapped under my shoes, and bugs crunched under the weight of my steps. My breath rattled by the time I reached a clearing. I rested my hands on my knees when I bent over and tried to catch my breath.
Snap.
A twig cracked. The sound was unmistakable against the eerie silence.
I ran the opposite way from where the sound had come from.
Leaves, golden and red, floated to the ground around me, beginning to decay. The icy winds prickled against my cheeks, instantly drying the tears trickling down my cheeks.
I felt like my heart leapt out of my chest as I halted at the edge of the cliff. I swallowed hard, trying to remove the lump from my throat, and looked down into the black abyss. Devoid of color, only shades of darkness existed down there. I couldn’t see a thing. I whipped my head around, aware I had been running away from something or someone possibly. A minute felt like an eternity as I waited for something to happen. I was lost, left to freeze in a never-ending sea of trees filled with silence and things I couldn’t see. My sight was murky, but my other senses had heightened. An earthy scent reached my nostril, laced with what smelled like rotting meat. It was enough to make me pinch my nostrils.
With care, I walked away from the cliff’s edge, realizing if something did jump out at me, I would topple over.
The stench of rotting meat and earth got stronger as I walked. I felt dizzy, wanting desperately to get home. I missed the mildew smell of the house.
I pulled myself back when I reached what appeared to be a hole. My gaze darted to my feet, and I fell backward and landed on my backside.
I blinked twice. Time slowed, and shock pulsated through me in waves of numbness.
It couldn’t be… but it was. It was exactly like my dream.
On all fours, I crawled to the edge of the shallow hole, dragging myself through mounds of damp earth. I wanted to gag. I could taste the stench. I coughed and scrunched my mouth in disgust.
“Breathe, Pierce…” I said aloud as I mustered the last ounce of courage I had left and climbed down.
An owl hooted nearby. Sound returned to the forest… Yellow eyes watched me from the tree line and hissing sounded near the edge of the cliff.
I got to my feet and looked down to take in the scene more.
In the freshly dug hole was a coffin—not too expensive, plain wood with an engraving.
Pretty One.
Holding my breath, I lifted the lid.
My hand shot up to my mouth. I dropped the lid, and it landed with a thud. I stumbled away, desperately trying to climb out of the hole. My hair wiped tears from my cheeks. The roots reaching out from the dirt entwined around my arms and legs. Panicked, I tried to break free of them, screaming as I did. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was having a heart attack.
I fell backward in my struggle and landed on top of the casket. I looked up at the starry sky, more tears on my cheeks. That was when Jackson appeared with Tommy. They stood over the grave, looking down at me. Vera joined them, along with Axel.
“HELP ME!” I screamed, but they couldn’t hear me.
A man lifted a shovel and began filling the hole with dirt. It got in my eyes and mouth. Maggots climbed all over my body. The girl in the coffin was me, and now I was watching my own burial… alive.
I awoke with a gasp. I kicked the blankets off me, then jumped out of bed. Breathing heavily, I looked around. Sweat dripped down my forehead. I wiped it with the sleeve of my pajama top.
“Pierce!”
Jackson’s voice made me jump. She was standing in the doorway, holding a box of chocolates. Her dark hair tumbled down to her waist, and her brown eyes shone as she cocked her head. “Are you okay?”
My bottom lip was shaking. “Bad dream,” I said quickly, but I couldn’t shake the feeling it had really happened. It had been so vivid.
“Oh.” She stepped forward and handed me the chocolates. “Thought you might like these. Tommy gave them to me today, but I’m not hungry and thought of you. I couldn’t sleep.”
; I forced a smile and took the chocolates. “Thank you.”
I didn’t know what else to say. I felt like I was still somehow trapped in the feelings of the nightmare and hadn’t fully woken up. My body was poised and alert. I could swear, although it was silly, I could taste dirt in my mouth.
Jackson finally let out a long sigh and proceeded to walk to my bed. She slumped herself on top of the heap of blankets at the end and crossed her legs. “I’m worried about you,” she said. I could tell this was difficult for her. For a moment, she looked older, like she had grown five years overnight.
Where was my playful little sister?
“You’ve been acting strangely recently.” She ran her hand through her thick locks. “You’ve been erratic and not yourself. You keep going missing, then you came back the other night covered in soot and said you didn’t remember being outside. When we were out that night, you sent an electric shock through me. It was unlike anything I’d ever felt, and your emotions have been giving me whiplash.”
Her words hit me like a knife. I dropped to my knees and cried into the palms of my hands. “I’m sorry, Jackson!” I cried because the worst thing about it all was I was no longer someone my sister could rely on, and she needed me now more than ever. “I’ve been a terrible sister.”
She climbed off the bed, then knelt in front of me. She pulled my hands from my face and took them in hers. “You have always been the best sister! I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just worried about you. I want you to be okay.”
I wanted to break. Every bit of fight I had in me had deteriorated overnight. All the optimism, the calmness, the reasonable side of me, it had disappeared and what was left was enough to scare Jackson. Hell, it was enough to scare me. I didn’t know who I was anymore.
“I just need a good night’s sleep,” I lied, deciding not to burden her with my internal crisis. “I’ll be fine. I guess Mom and Dad’s deaths hit me harder than I thought.”
I felt guilty using their deaths as an excuse because the truth was the grief hadn’t been too much to bear. World’s worst daughter here.
“Get some sleep,” I told her and stood. I helped her to her feet, then squeezed her hand. “Try not to worry about me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “It’s a bit hard not to, with a killer on the loose that has evaded capture and is killing girls with red hair.” She reached out, then took a piece of my hair in her hand. “You need to be more careful than anyone right now. You’re exactly the right profile for this serial killer!”
They weren’t her words. She must have spoken to the police or someone else who’d told her. She never spoke that way.
“I won’t go out on my own,” I promised and looked into her eyes. “They’ll catch him soon with everyone looking for him, I’m sure.”
She looked back at me sternly. “If anyone tries to take you away from me, I will kill them.”
I waited for a smirk or laugh, but nothing came. I believed her.
“Get some sleep,” I said again and walked her to the door. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
She side-hugged me before leaving. I breathed in the smell of her coconut shampoo and smiled. She was the only good thing in my life.
“Good night.”
“Night.” I watched her walk to her room, then closed my bedroom door.
I sat on the edge of my bed for an hour, mulling over every aspect of my dream. I thought about the key, about everything I had read about this town, the serial killer, and the holes in my memory. Something was going on, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. Since we had arrived, I felt like I had been thrown in a Tim Burton movie.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
I woke up at seven in the morning. It was the first day of school, and I was terrified. At least I had Tommy, which made me feel tons better.
I grabbed a hair tie, pulled my hair back into a messy bun, and rubbed my eyes. My sleep had been short, but restful at the least. I walked to the bathroom, my bare feet cold against the marble floor, and looked in the mirror. My plain reflection looked back at me with disgust. “You’ve let yourself go, Jackson!” I told mirror me. I missed my expensive creams and MAC makeup, but I was poor now. I let the realization sink in. I was also an orphan, another punch to the ribs. Everything was shitty.
“Make the most of it,” I said aloud to the room.
“You absolutely should!”
I whipped my head around. It was Grandma standing in the doorway, leaning on her cane. Her eyes looked around aimlessly.
“Uh, right.”
She scoffed. “You’re hot-headed like your Dad.”
“Like you would know.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness out of my tone. Pierce was much better at playing nice than me. “I’m getting ready for my first day at school.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out some cash.
“This is for you.” She held her hand out.
She’d handed me two hundred dollars. Back in Manhattan, a few hundred bucks was nothing, but here, it was everything. I shoved the bills into my bra to make sure I wouldn’t lose them and started to work on my hair. I was going to get some new clothes today after school! I needed some, and some new makeup.
I needed a shower, and to wash my greasy hair. Pierce’s hair never got greasy. I always envied that.
I wrapped the towel around myself and dried my hair. I walked back to my room, dumped my dirty clothes at the end of my bed, and carefully put the two hundred dollars on the nightstand. I needed to do some laundry when I got home. I wondered if the place even had a decent washing machine. I guessed I’d find out later.
I pulled my makeup bag from my suitcase, adding a mental note to unpack when I got home tonight.
After moving my hair away from my face, I got to work applying primer, foundation, then concealer. I put on some banana powder, then translucent powder before spritzing my face with finishing spray.
I curled my eyelashes with the hand-curler, missing my heated one I’d left back at home, and applied eyeliner. For the first time ever—it must have been a record—both eyes came out perfectly. Perhaps it would be a good day after all. You know, if I didn’t think about the serial killer, my crazy sister, my parents’ deaths or the strange things happening here. I laughed aloud. It was all too insane to believe, but it really was my reality. I had to find humor in my situation because if I didn’t, I was worried all of it would swallow me whole.
I applied a light-pink lipstick, so not to upstage my eyes, and finished with mascara.
Nodding, I gave myself a wink in the mirror. “Not too shabby today!”
Pierce knocked on the open door. “Morning, weirdo.”
I grinned up at her. “Morning!”
“Excited for your first day?”
I nodded and turned back to the mirror. “I just need to straighten my hair, then I’ll be on my way.”
Pierce looked at me proudly. “I wish I had your optimism.”
I blushed. “Thanks.”
“You look great.”
I smirked. “I know.”
She rolled her eyes. “I made breakfast. When you’re done, I’ll walk you to school.”
I scrunched my face. “That’s kind of lame. Besides, Tommy said he’d walk with me.”
She left with a hint of a smile and shouted, “Meet you in the kitchen!”
***
The halls bustled with people. No one even noticed me. Everyone in my old school loved me, but maybe it was because I’d had money.
“Nervous?” Tommy asked.
I nodded softly.
He squeezed my hand. “I’m right by your side.”
I smiled. It did make me feel better. I squeezed his hand back. “Not for chemistry,” I said.
His lips set into a hard line. “We will meet at lunch! I promise. On the steps.”
“Okay.”
He kissed me on the cheek, making me flush red, then left, leaving me alone in my new world. My gaze landed o
n a group of cheerleaders. Here goes nothing. I waltzed up to them, whisked my hair back over my shoulder, and smiled my most prize-winning smile. “Hi, I’m Jackson. I’m new here.”
A blonde girl, with her hair tied back tightly, looked me up and down. She was much taller than me. “I’m Blaire. We’re actually in the middle of mourning right now.”
I looked near their feet. A picture of another girl with red hair had been placed in front of a locker. I assumed it must have been the girl who had died in the forest.
“Sorry! I’m worried. My sister is the only redheaded girl under twenty-one left in the town.”
Blaire seemed to have some pity for me because she looked side to side at the other girls and sighed. “Her name was Stephanie,” she told me. “She was the bottom of the pyramid, but she meant so much to us.”
The other girls nodded.
I bit my bottom lip. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Blaire, who didn’t look too upset standing at her dead friend’s locker, looked me up and down. “It’s a little late, but are you thinking about trying out?”
I couldn’t help but grin even though I was aware of the morbidity around me. “I was on the squad at my last school.”
“Where did you go?”
“Mayborn Academy.”
Another girl, with brunette hair and blue eyes, spoke up. “Isn’t that like the super elite school in New York?”
I nodded, feeling uncomfortable.
“What did you say your name was again?” Blaire asked.
“Jackson. Jackson Harrison.”
Her face lit up. “Oh my God! I read all about your dad in the papers. You’re like… famous.”
I took a deep breath. Talking to these girls had been a mistake. Ugh, my stupidly vain self and caring about popularity meant everyone would know what happened to me now.
“Not really,” I replied and cast my eyes to the floor.
“You should try out!” Blaire said again. “We should go. Nice to meet you, Jackson.”
They hurried off in their group, leaving me alone next to Stephanie’s—the dead girl’s—locker. I looked at her picture and choked up a little. She looked so much like Pierce. I couldn’t bear to think about Pierce just being a picture somewhere, a memory left behind by time.
