Pretend With Me (Midnight Society #1)

by Jemma Grey

  A mysterious smile pierced my lips as my eyes locked onto his face. “Why can't I sleep here, and you sleep in the guest bedroom, give me a chance to snoop and see what lies beneath the mask of Eric Wilson?”

  He dropped his hand, staring at me all serious now. “I've nothing to hide... Anything you want to know I'll tell you.”

  “Hmm...” I mused. “So Eric Wilson... what's your darkest secret? Something no one knows?” I teased, not expecting an answer.

  “Good question,” he chuckled, turning away from me and started to walk towards the bedroom door. Just as I was about to tell him I wasn't being serious about putting him out of his bedroom, he turned back to face me. “My darkest secret, Jen,” he whispered, pausing in front of the door with one hand already turning the knob. “I'm in love with the girl I'm engaged to, but the dark part is that she's in love with someone else, and just weeks after he died I'm the ass she's being forced to marry.” Eric opened the door then, and left.

  All I could think was 'what the fuck had just happened?' Did he really just say that? Eric loved me? Why? What was there left to love? I was confused. I couldn't wrap my head around it - Eric Wilson loved me. Me - a broken, damaged girl; a girl who could never love him back. What the fuck had just happened?

  * * * I kept my eyes closed, feeling tired. I hadn't slept a full two hours last night. At first, I couldn't fall asleep. Even though the day had been overwhelming and exhausting, Eric's confession wouldn't give my brain a rest. Instead, it played in my head like a song stuck on repeat, and when I did finally fall asleep the dreams attacked me, waking me up seconds ago. I knew trying to go back to sleep was a waste of time so I didn't try. Instead, I began to stretch, only to find that my movements were restricted.

  My eyes shot open at once as a mixture of fear and adrenaline pulsed through me. In the same second I sat up, too panicked and confused to care about not waking the sleeping person at my side.

  Instead of waking, the person bundled up to me, hugging me tighter. It was a girl; a tiny girl with hair that looked as soft as clouds. I tilted my head at her confused, trying to find her face, but it was buried halfway in my lap and the covers. All I could make out was her light golden– brown, soft hair and her fair, almost white skin.

  Just then Eric walked into the room, his head buried in papers. Without glancing in my direction, he walked over to his bookcase, shuffling through the bundle of papers for a moment, then found a file lying somewhere on the bookcase and placed them in it.

  “Eric,” I whispered not wanting to wake the sleeping child. He turned to me smiling and began making his way to the bed. Before he could reach me, I put a finger to my lips showing him to be silent and then pointed to the little girl on my lap.

  “Sorry,” he both frowned and smiled when he saw the girl. “My sister, Christy.” I stared down at the unknown sleeping girl as Eric stopped at my side and leaned over her, about to wake her.

  “No,” I whispered before he could, “don't wake her.” I slapped away his hand and in the process forgot that I should not be moving. Instantly, I went still when she began to stir.

  A moment later she raised her head, looking up at me. Her eyes were wide bright blue orbs that were too awake to suggest she'd just been asleep. She smiled at me, as if she already loved me unconditionally, yawned and nestled back on my lap, hugging me tighter.

  “Christy,” Eric said with gentle authority and she looked up at him, seeming to realize only now that he was in the room. “We talked about this, remember?” he said sitting on the side of the bed.

  “But... I love her so much already,” she said speaking to Eric but looking at me. “I screamed when you fainted. It hurt so much... I was so afraid something bad had happened to you.”

  It took me a moment to make sense of what she was saying. Then I remembered the horrible scream last night. It was the last thing I heard before blacking out. I bit my lip looking at Eric.

  He had told me what Christy could do and I didn't know what to say or how to respond to her. How could I show her I was okay, when I wasn't? How could I fake being happy when this child, who already loved me, could feel everything I felt?

  “Come on, Christy, let's leave Jen to rest” Eric said. He scooped her up in his arms and started for the door.

  “Goodbye, Jen,” she called as he carried her outside. I raised my hand to wave to her, but Eric was already gone. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, I dropped back on the bed. A moment later Eric, re-entered the room.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, “Christy can be a little overbearing sometimes.”

  “It’s fine,” I sighed sitting up, waiting for him to start asking his usual morning questions; how I was feeling? What I wanted for breakfast? Had I taken my meds already? Instead he only stood there for a moment smiling at me with calculated eyes that was filled with wonder. Instantly I knew he wanted to tell me something. Most likely something I wasn't going to like.

  “Spit it out, Eric,” I demanded when he remained silent.

  “Well I have a favor to ask,” he began, sitting at my side on the edge of the bed. “My mom wants to spend the day with you.”

  “What?” I blinked gawking at him.

  “Well tonight there's this thing… our engagement party actually and they're literally tearing downstairs apart so my mom thought while they did that you might want to go out,” he said in one breath. I had only heard the first part though. From the second he had mentioned 'our engagement party' I began freaking out.

  “Our party?” I squeaked, choking the words out.

  “Yes,” he nodded reaching behind his back and pulled out a rectangular piece of paper, placing it on my lap. I grabbed it up at once. The paper was thick, hard and rough. The script was smooth and elegant in a golden font. It declared that there would be a ball to celebrate Eric and I tonight. It looked like a very rich and lavish wedding invitation, the only thing out of place was a large, black widow spider imprinted onto the paper, but even this was tasteful. If this was the invitation to our engagement, I didn't think I could handle the actual wedding. I looked at Eric, beginning to panic.

  “It isn't going to be big, I swear, just a few hundred people,” he said trying to calm me. It wasn't working. My breathing was unsteady and my heart was about to give out due to being over worked.

  “Hundred?” I heard myself squeal.

  “Don't worry, it'll be fine. I'll be at your side all night. You might even get tired of me,” he laughed. I gave a nervous laugh and he took my hand in his. “It'll be fine, I promise.” I nodded even though I didn't really believe that.

  “Okay,” I swallowed. I needed to distract myself before I could go into full freak-out mode. “So about this favor...” I said hoping this would be enough to take my mind away from the upcoming hellish event.

  “If you do decide to spend the day with my mom... please be nice to her.”

  “You're giving me a choice?” I asked surprised.

  “She's giving you a choice, yes.”

  I thought for a moment and then nodded. “Okay.”

  “Okay, you'll do it?” he asked and I nodded again. A huge, bright smile spread across his lips as he cupped my face, pulling me to him. Instantly he planted a kiss on my forehead and hugged me. “Get ready and when you're done meet me in the kitchen. We'll have breakfast together and then you can leave.” He kissed me again on my forehead and then left the room.

  I took my time getting ready. Even though I agreed to spend the day with Eric's mother, I wasn't in a hurry to start that day. I had no idea why I agreed, but I already promised so there was no going back now.

  Finding the kitchen was surprisingly easy. Last night I had seen enough of this house - if it could be called that to know it was big enough to get lost in. What I hadn't thought of was the amount of staff it took to manage this place. I passed at least twelve different persons on the corridor alone, and they all knew exactly who I was and greeted me with a slight curtsy, like people did in those
old movies, and a bright cheerful 'Good morning, Ms Jenifer.' It was overwhelming, but without their help I would have gotten lost.

  At breakfast, Eric asked his usual questions and as usual, I lied through my teeth, telling him I was fine and I had already taken my pills and I slept well. All through breakfast I wanted to ask him something, but was too chicken-hearted to try. Now we were almost finished eating and I knew I had to suck it up and come out with it.

  “Eric,” I hesitated, not looking at him as I picked at the remaining piece of bread on my plate. “Why didn't you tell me about this party-ball-thing before we came here...” I asked backing out for the umpteenth time. “I mean they must plan these things months in advance... why didn't you tell me?”

  Eric stopped eating and turned to face me fully, his blue eyes burning my face. “You don't do well with stress... If I had told you, you'd have dwelled on it and freaked out about it. I wanted to give you as much of a stress free week as I could. I owed you that...” he trailed off.

  He was right, of course, but I still hated that he kept it from me. I didn't tell him this though, instead all I said was, “Thank you. Hawaii was nice...” I figured that since I was going to die soon, the least I could do for him was be agreeable. “So you said your mother could see a person's past... how does that work?” I finally got out as casually as I could.

  “Well...” he mused, “it only happens once. When she sees the past of a person... she can't see any more than she saw that first time.”

  I looked at him confused, not quite understanding. “Okay,” he began again, seeing the confusion clearly on my face. “So let's say my mom sees someone walking on the streets, that person's life will flash before her eyes,” he stopped making sure I understood so far. I nodded so he could continue. “If she saw that same person twenty... thirty years later and she tried to see their past, she would only see as far as she saw the first time.”

  “Okay,” I nodded again. My mind was buzzing with new questions and details now. I thought for a moment picking out the most important ones. “What if the first time she met someone, she didn't look into their past?”

  Eric was already shaking his head. “It happens automatically. It’s not something she can control. The first time she meets someone, she sees their past whether she wants to or not.”

  “Oh,” I said taking in everything he was telling me. There was a part of me that was relieved; now I didn't have to worry about her knowing I wasn't taking my medication through her freaky, supernatural gift. But that also meant Eric's mother knew about Daren, and what happened the night he and Brandon had died.

  “You look relieved,” he commented but didn't demand a reason why and for that I was glad.

  “I have one more question before I leave. When I agreed to this date with your mom, you were really happy... why?” He took my hand and pulled me off the chair. Then he began leading me out of the dining room. I followed willingly, waiting for a reply.

  “I want you to be comfortable around my family. They're your family as well and I want you to see that.”

  I couldn't help smile up at him.

  Eric walked with me to a sitting room that looked like it came straight out of a Jane Austen novel. I was beginning to realize that all the rooms in this house were big, beautiful and antique. The house itself was magical and almost like a fairytale scene.

  Eric's mother was sitting with her back to us and a book opened in front of her, and at the sight I got nervous. My heart shot into overdrive again, threatening to burst through my ribcage. At my side Eric gave my hand a gentle squeeze and I turned to him. He was smiling at me, encouragingly yet amused at the same time and I got the feeling he knew exactly how nervous I was.

  As soon as we entered the room, Eric's mother shut the book, stood up and turned to face us with a warm smile on her lips. She was just as I remembered, with waist length, blonde, straight hair, perfect skin that celebrities would kill for and piercing bright, blue eyes just like the rest of her family.

  “Good morning, honey,” she smiled warmly and at first I thought she was speaking to Eric. Her voice had held so much love and affection that only a mother speaking to her children could sound like that, but then she walked up to us and hugged me. The hug was gentle but still awkward because Eric refused to drop my hand. At the physical contact, my body had stiffened automatically. “You look absolutely lovely,” she stepped back, taking both of my shoulders in her hands as if to get a better look at me.

  “Thank you Mrs. Wilson, you too.”

  “We better leave now or we're going to be late.” She already had my hand in hers, leading me to the door.

  I looked back and saw Eric watching us. He waved to me and then the front door closed behind me, leaving me alone with his mother.

  * * *

  I had three women working on me at the same time, each poking at my body. One of the girl, a short, thin girl with dark hair was at my feet polishing my toes. Another was at my fingernails and the last was attacking my hair. Earlier today when the car had pulled up in front of the lavish, hellish place, I wanted to turn and run away screaming. I only entered because I promised Eric I was going to be nice.

  Unfortunately, I had not known being nice meant being pampered and all that crap, as Mrs. Wilson had put it when she saw the horror on my face as we walked into the place. My body had had enough pampering and any moment I was going to light one of those girl's hair on fire.

  They had painted my nails to a dazzling bright color that stood out too much, had waxed my eyebrows – which didn't really need waxing – and had insisted on cutting my hair. That I didn't allow. They could prod at me however they pleased, but it was going to be a happy day in Hell before those witches ever cut my hair.

  “Are you hungry?” Mrs. Wilson asked at my side. At once I nodded, too eager to get out of the torture den. Mrs. Wilson got up, said goodbye to the witches and then we began making our way to the car waiting out front.

  “That was not so bad,” she said smiling at me. I looked up to her frowning. “Are you kidding? That was horrible.” Her only response was a small, amused chuckle. The driver of the car was already standing with the door open waiting for us, and once we were inside the silence became deafening.

  “Jenifer,” Mrs. Wilson called kindly and I turned to face her. She took a deep breath and I could tell the very moment I feared all morning was here. “How much has Eric told you about us... his family, I mean?” Her question was casual, but I knew there was a deeper meaning behind it.

  I hesitated for a minute, not sure what to say. Was I supposed to know about their freaky yet somewhat cool, supernatural gifts? “It’s okay,” she smiled seeing my face, “secrets in our family are... well it’s hard to stay secrets for long.” I nodded. With Christy and Eric's gift it would be hard keeping secrets. It was easy to lie with words, lying with emotions and the mind was a complete different story.

  “Not much,” I admitted, “but I know what he can do... his mind thing,” I frowned, wondering if there was a special name for what Eric was.

  “And I suppose you also know what Christy, my husband, and I can do as well.” It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway.

  “I know what you've seen,” I said surprising myself. “About me, my past.”

  Mrs. Wilson looked at me and nodded slowly. I turned away from her, staring at the stores and buildings as they zipped past me. “I'm sorry,” she finally said.

  At once, I turned to her. “No disrespect Mrs. Wilson, but I don't need your sorry and frankly I don't want it. I'm not the one who’s dead, Brandon and Daren are.” I turned away from her so she wouldn't see my eyes fill with tears. “I don't deserve it,” I added under my breath, so low that I couldn't hear myself.

  I felt her grab my hand and automatically I stiffened, then forced myself to face her. She was leaning to me, her eyes wild and fierce, burning like blue fire. “You honestly can't believe that.” I stared at her confused. “What happened wasn't your fault Jenifer. It
wasn't.”

  “Oh, it was... I-” I broke off, my voice cracking. I cleared my throat, took a breath and then said “Well... it doesn't matter now, does it? I can't change what happened.” This time bitterness coated my voice thickly.

  “No... but it helps to know... It helps you move on,” she replied.

  I was silent for a long while. “Did you tell Eric,” I whispered instead of saying what I really wanted to. I didn't want to move on. I deserved all the pain I was feeling.

  “That story isn't mine to tell. When you're ready you can tell him. I've told no one, nor would I ever.”

  “Thank you,” I breathed out feeling as if a heavy weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

  Just then the car came to a stop and seconds later the door opened for us. I got out and stepped directly onto the pavement of a well-polished town. It was quiet and lovely with small, quaint stores, well-mannered, easy going people and petite apartments.

  Mrs. Wilson walked up to the restaurant directly in front of us. “Where are we?” I asked looking for a sign that gave some sort of hint.

  “This is my hometown.” She turned around pointing at something. “Do you see that church?”

  I followed her hand and a grey antique looking church greeted me. Even though it was partially hidden by buildings, I could tell it was huge. I looked back to Mrs. Wilson waiting expectantly. “My dad was the pastor of that church.”

  “Oh,” I heard myself say, trying to picture her life before she got married. I couldn't do it. I couldn't conger up a decent image of her being a pastor's daughter.

  “Kate!” a male voice cheered and I jumped. Both Mrs. Wilson and I turned at exactly the same time.

  “Ah Mr. George, it's been a while,” Mrs. Wilson replied and I realized a moment later her first name was Kate. My middle name was Kate; how weird was that?

  The man who was speaking to her was tall, thin, slightly balding and looked around his early thirties. He was wearing a worn out, waiter's uniform. He did air kisses with Mrs. Wilson and then proceeded inside the small, quaint restaurant to what he called her usual table.