Rear View (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 0)

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Rear View (Peri Jean Mace Ghost Thrillers Book 0) Page 6

by Catie Rhodes


  I wasn’t giving up so easily. “How’d you know it would do that?”

  “It’s just old folklore. Might not even work.” But the way Memaw said the words led me to think she believed the iron key worked, believed it wholeheartedly.

  “Where’d you get this? What does it unlock?”

  “It belonged to my mother, and I don’t know.” Memaw’s curt words forbade any further questions. “You must get yourself through this. There is no other option.” She stared into my face for several seconds and left me alone.

  I sat at the table playing with the key and feeling so alone it hurt. If I didn’t do the project, I couldn’t graduate. I didn’t really care, but Memaw would have a fit. She valued education above anything else and insisted I do what I could to get one. I could just refuse to go back to school. What then? Memaw would hound me like stink on shit. If I thought her restrictions were hard now, they’d be worse if I quit school. And I had nowhere else to go.

  Memaw was right. I had to make this work.

  * * *

  After a cursory pass at my homework and a quiet supper, I lay in the dark unable to sleep. The if-onlies crowded my brain. Each one had more appeal than the last. If only I could quit school and move out of town. If only Felicia would get eaten by a renegade alligator. The normal stuff.

  The tapping on my window jerked me back into reality. I squinted at the window. A vague memory of a black bird hovering there flitted through my mind and broke apart before I had the chance to latch onto it.

  I shook my head, and my eyes adjusted to the moonlight pouring into the window. A dark figure standing outside my window came into focus. Chase picked that moment to flick on the flashlight he carried and hold it under his chin, giving his face hollows and turning his eye sockets into dark craters.

  I crept out of bed and tiptoed over to the window. Chase widened his eyes exaggeratedly and waved his hand at my pajamas. I glanced down at the loose pants and tank top. What’s the big deal? I shrugged. He motioned me to come outside. I shook my head and mouthed, “Memaw.”

  He pressed his lips together and rolled his eyes. He motioned again, this time more urgently, and clasped his hands, and mimed begging. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. He dropped down on his knees and groveled in the dirt.

  I glanced in the direction of Memaw’s room. If I did this and got caught, there’d be hell to pay. I glanced back at Chase. He still flailed around, hands clasped under his chin, his eyes lunatic wide and rolling.

  I wanted to go. Memaw didn’t understand what Gaslight City High School was like for me on a day-to-day basis. Sure, she heard the awful stories and got angry right along with me, but she had no idea what it was like to live it. Chase was my only break from being the class freak show. I held up one finger. He leapt to his feet, arms in the air, fists raised high, and jumped up and down, his mouth open with silent cheers. I smiled.

  Five minutes later, I slipped out the back door, shoes dangling from my fingers. Chase waited on the ground next to the porch. He held up his arms. We both knew the old boards creaked. Walking across it would be like setting off an alarm for Memaw. I slid into his arms.

  His lips met mine, and he slid me down his body, setting my feet gently on the ground. I quit calculating the odds of Memaw busting me and breathed him in. He smelled of soap and cigarettes, and I tasted the salt of sweat from his begging fit on his lips.

  “Got something I want to show you.” His breath tickled my ear. The feeling swept through my body, cutting a trail of fire. Chase took my hand and tugged me along.

  We walked down the driveway without talking. His Tahoe hulked on the roadside, dark and waiting. Chase ran ahead to open my door and even helped me take the big step up. The door clicked shut, and I had the car to myself for a moment, time to imagine what lay ahead.

  My wildest dream would have been to drive away from Gaslight City and never return. I figured the reality was closer to us going somewhere secluded and dark and taking our clothes off. The idea of sex with Chase sent a current of fear laced with excitement running through me. The first time had been right before Chase left to tour with Snakebite. Talk about awful. I’d never wanted to do it again.

  Then I ran off to see him play in New Mexico. The memory of the things we’d done on that motel bed, far away from the horrors of Gaslight City, ignited a little warmth in my middle. It overrode my fear of getting caught or some other dire consequence. Now I wanted to go somewhere dark and take my clothes off with Chase.

  He got in the Tahoe and shut the door. “I got a surprise for you.”

  “I’m ready.” I curled my legs under me and drank in the way he looked in the dashboard lights, the jut of his jaw and cheekbones clearly defined and the rest of his face lost in shadow.

  Chase slowly turned to me, maybe hearing something in my voice. He licked his lips and leaned in my direction. We kissed again. I trailed my fingers over his neck, marveling over the heat rising off his skin. Chase broke the kiss and put the Tahoe in drive.

  “Not here on the side of the road. ‘Sides, tonight’s just for you.” He drove into the darkness, the yellow hyphens on the highway pulsing up at us. He turned off onto an unmarked dirt road. I knew where we were headed but didn’t care. The idea of his skin on mine took up all the brainpower I had.

  He put the car in park, killed the engine, and came around to open the door for me. We tromped through the woods holding hands, our breath puffs of vapor in the cool spring night. Moonlight pushed through the trees and caressed Chase’s face, flashes of light and dark, not too different from his personality.

  The old concrete buildings left over from the Palmore Sawmill slumped in the shadows. Chase led me around their outskirts and into an open area where concrete pillions speared the dirt in regular intervals. In the middle of them, he’d stacked wood and branches for a campfire. He lit a book of matches and tossed them in the direction of the fire. It blazed to life, flames licking high, roaring in intensity. Chase studiously ignored the fire, which must have taken some effort to set up, and unrolled a sleeping bag. He unzipped it, spread it on the dirt, and held out one hand to me.

  I went to him. His kisses like fire on my lips, hands roaming over my body, I forgot the cold and rubbed my body against his. We swayed together, the only music the beat of our hearts.

  “I’m sorry you had such a shit day.” He rested his hands on my waist. “I ever tell you you’re the bravest person I know?”

  “Showing up when you don’t have a choice isn’t brave.” I shook my head and ran one finger down his throat.

  He moaned. “I brought whiskey. You want some?” He gestured at a duffle bag he’d toted from the vehicle.

  I shook my head, pulled his shirt out of his jeans, and ran my fingertips over the smoothness of his chest, pausing over his heart, letting it pulse against my fingers.

  He swallowed hard. “I wanted this to be perfect, you know, to make up for all the dates we can’t have right now.”

  “Then stop talking.” I pulled him against me and stood on my tiptoes for him to kiss me.

  He put his arms around me, drew me onto my tiptoes, and pressed his lips to mine, both of us drawing a deep breath. He moved away from me and ran one finger down my cheek.

  Eyes locked together, we sank to the sparse cushion of the sleeping bag. I helped Chase push down my jeans and watched him peel them off me in a haze of lust. I plucked at his shirt, but he pushed my hand away and whispered, “Not yet.”

  He pushed me onto my back and knelt between my legs, propping my thighs on his shoulders. My heart thrummed against my ribs, body tightening in anticipation. He bent his head, tongue feathering against me, so gently it almost tickled. His fingers dug into my hips. My body tightened and then arched, the stars brightening. I gripped the sleeping bag in my fists and screamed at the stars. Then I lay panting in a loose heap.

  Chase’s lips touched mine, and he braced himself over me, moaning my name as our bodies joined. Faces almost touching, we mov
ed together, sweat forming between us. This moment was the jackpot at the end of all the ugly. Nothing else mattered. Not even getting caught. Chase was all I wanted. Ever.

  Our bellies slapped together, bodies wire tight. Chase’s moans became more insistent. Fire flickering in his eyes, lips so close I felt his exhales as though they were my own, we lost ourselves together. The end slammed into us, and we rode it together, drinking each other in for that long sweet moment, the pleasure so intense it hurt.

  We lay gasping for several seconds. Chase rolled onto his back next to me and lit two cigarettes. He handed me one. I didn’t really want it, but I took it because it came from him. My deep inhale made my head swim. The smoke burned my eyes. I held the cigarette away from my face and watched Chase smoke.

  In the orange glow of the campfire, sweat glowing on his face, he barely resembled the boy I grew up with. He was someone else, someone who had his destiny by the horns, the best that life had to offer right at his fingertips. There for the asking.

  “I didn’t just bring you out here for this.” He turned onto his side and trailed one finger down my arm. “But I miss you. I miss this. You being grounded is bullshit.”

  “I miss you too.” I stubbed out my barely smoked cigarette and tossed it at the fire. “Memaw says I’m grounded until the end of the year.”

  “You’ll be eighteen in June.” Chase’s fingers traced every contour of my body, a trail of heady fire in their wake.

  “And then we’re gone, right?” I ran one finger over the stubble on his jawbone. “We still going to LA to hook up with that guy from Snakebite?”

  Chase took his hand off me, the night’s chill moving right into its place. He got up and jerked on his pants. “I brought you something. Meant to give it to you first, before the other.” He turned a crooked smile on me and slipped me a dirty wink. I couldn’t help but smile back.

  He squatted next to the sleeping bag and dug in the duffel bag. He set a half-pint of some dark colored liquid to one side and kept digging. Finally he grunted and drew out a rolled up bundle of fabric. He tossed it at me.

  I unrolled it. Puzzled, I stared at the black denim jacket from Chase’s tour with Snakebite. It had the tour emblem and the year on the back. The only people I’d seen wearing the jackets had worked for the tour. They hadn’t been sold to fans. I knew because I tried to buy one.

  “I can’t take this. It’s your souvenir from being on tour with a real rock band.” I held the jacket against me.

  “Take it. I’d ruin it anyway.” He twisted the cap of the booze and tilted it to his mouth. “But that’s not the only reason I’m giving it to you.” He took another long drink and sat on the sleeping bag next to me. “Every time you look at this jacket, remember you’re better than those kids at school. You’re more. I’d have never, ever gone to Snakebite’s open audition in Austin had you not pushed me. You got it in you to be great, once you find what’s right for you.”

  “Thank you.” I tried on the jacket. It was too big, of course, but I cherished it anyway. Chase kissed me. One kiss turned into another. That turned into even more. The next time I paid attention the sky, the stars had moved. The moon was descending in the deep, inky darkness. Nothing but embers was left of our fire.

  “I better go back home.” I pulled on my clothes.

  Chase nodded and dressed. He kicked dirt over the fire while I packed all our stuff back into his Tahoe. He drove me back home and parked on the side of the road.

  “Let me walk you to the house.” He cut the engine.

  Something in my gut begged me to tell him no, but I didn’t. We walked, hand-in-hand, down the long dirt driveway. Chase opened the gate and leaned down to give me a kiss.

  “Peri Jean, I want you to get yourself in the house.” Memaw’s voice came from the darkness of the porch. The ember on the tip her cigarette flared as she took a pull. “Right now.” She stood and went in the house, slamming the door behind her.

  Threads of painful electricity wound their way through my gut. The sudden urge to puke wavered in my head like heat coming off a road in the dead of summer.

  “Oh boy,” Chase whispered and flipped his hair out of his eyes. “I guess I’d best—” I knew him well enough to know he wanted to get the hell away from me, anything to keep from facing the wrath of my angry grandmother.

  “Yeah, go. No reason for her to yell at you too.” I swallowed the ball of nerves working its way up my fluttering chest.

  Chase brushed a kiss on my cheek and ran for his Tahoe. I stood at the gate watching him go, wishing I could go with him.

  “Peri Jean?” Memaw’s rough voice came from inside the house. “Don’t make me come out there.”

  I trudged to my fate, muscles winding tighter with each step. Memaw sat on the couch smoking, even though she’d said she was going to quit smoking in the house. She studied me for a few seconds and rolled her eyes.

  “Is it too much to ask you to follow my rules?” She glared at me, her dark eyes hard as coal. “I grounded you because I didn’t want you fooling around with Chase Fischer.”

  No need to argue or explain. She’d just use whatever I said as a way to make her point. Shoulders rounded, I sat in the armchair opposite her and picked at the crochet doily draped over the arm.

  “Nothing good’s going to come of it.” Memaw stubbed out her cigarette and crossed her arms over her bosom. “Chase Fischer is too young and wild to be what you need. He’ll end up hurting you. And that’s an optimistic scenario, one where you don’t get pregnant and have to deal with all that.”

  “He’s not going to hurt me.” I raised my gaze to Memaw’s. The anger coming off her sparked between us. “Chase and I have known each other since I moved here when I was eight. When Mom didn’t want me anymore.” Some dark, squirmy part of me hoped I could deflect all this by making Memaw feel sorry for me.

  “Your mother was about your age when she got pregnant with you.” She glared at me, taking shallow breaths through her nose. One hand trembled on her lap. “Your father wasn’t much older. Both of them were so unprepared to be parents.” She didn’t remind me how things ended up, my father murdered and my mother run off with a traveling country and western singer. She didn’t have to. “I don’t want that for you, Peri Jean. You need to find yourself first. Get your bearings on the world around you.”

  “Chase and I are leaving for LA after school ends for the year. I’m going to help him break into the music business.” The words hung between us, huge and ugly. I thought they’d shock Memaw and waited for the horror to register on her face.

  My grandmother didn’t move a muscle. She sat utterly still, gaze locked on my face. “That really what you think’s going to happen?”

  I nodded and glared right back at her.

  “Fine.” Her face went still as stone. “Until that day comes, consider yourself grounded. That includes the prom.”

  I gasped and began to protest.

  Memaw shook her head and held up one hand to stop me. “Save it. You can stay home that night and think about whether what you did tonight was worth it.” She put her hands on her knees and stood. “You’ve got two hours until school starts. I suggest you go get some sleep.” She walked down the hall and got all the way to her bedroom door before turning back to me. “And wash yourself. I won’t take you to that school smelling the way you do.”

  My cheeks heated, and a rash of sweat broke out on the back of my neck. I listened to her door close and her bed squeak as she lay down. My whole body shook, inside and outside. Quietly as I could, I crept into the bathroom and took a quick shower. Then I went to bed and lay there watching the room lighten with dawn, brokenhearted and pissed about Memaw grounding me from the prom.

  Prom was a silly tradition. I wanted to go anyway. I wanted to enjoy the night with Chase. I wanted to be like everybody else. Just the one time. There had to be a way to make Memaw see reason.

  Chapter 4

  Somebody painted an upside down cross on my loc
ker. Better than someone trying to make me lick the sole of her shoe. Good thing. The day was already bad enough. I slouched through the halls, trying not to notice the prom advertisements pasted in every possible space.

  Get ready for a night of Jazz Age fun at Gaslight City Senior Prom!

  Get your prom tickets at the administrative building!

  Got your corsage yet?

  And in the girls’ restroom: Gaslight City Senior Prom is a NO DRUGS OR ALCOHOL event!

  It made me want to scream and tear out my hair. It was like having a piece of tantalizing food dangled just inches from my face but moved constantly so it would be out of my reach. For the first time in my life, I had a boyfriend willing to do something like take me to the prom. But no. Memaw wanted to be all starchy and stiff about something everybody did. The day passed slow as molasses in the dead of winter.

  Rainey held true to her word. She walked me to lunch and stayed around to watch Chase play his guitar. She also insisted I eat a salad with her. By the time lunch ended, my stomach was playing its own kind of music. The last bell rang, and Rainey met me at the door of my class.

  “Hurry up. You can ride to Dottie’s with me.” She frowned as I put all my books into my locker.

  No way. “Chase said he’d drive me.”

  “Do you lay awake at night and think of stupid ways to get into trouble?” Rainey hurried down the hallway and outside.

  I had to jog to keep up with those mile-long strides. “How’s Memaw going to know?”

  “You’ll find some way to get caught.” Rainey raised one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “Word to the wise: come straight to Dottie’s. If you stand the rest of us up, I will call your Memaw and tattle on you like we’re back in grade school.”

  Chase’s Tahoe rounded the corner and sped toward us. Rainey stood right in the way, glaring. He squealed to a stop. I ran to get inside, and we drove away.

  Chase tried gossiping about one of his bandmates. Of course he didn’t want to discuss Memaw busting us. The Chase Fischer method of dealing with conflict was to pretend it never happened. I stared at a sign advertising prom specials in the window of Gaslight City’s only formal wear rental and didn’t answer.

 

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