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Touch of Fire (Into the Darkness Book 1)

Page 20

by Jasmine B. Waters


  Downstairs, I found Steven and Karen sitting at the table together. Steven was sipping coffee and glancing down at the news on his tablet. I laughed, and he looked up.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said, sliding into an empty chair. “You just look so much like a teacher right now. It’s funny.”

  Steven smirked. “I am a teacher,” he said smugly. “At least, I like to think so.”

  “Hey, Elizabeth,” Karen said. “I made bacon. Want some?”

  My stomach rumbled, and I nodded. Karen passed me a plate loaded with greasy slices, and I grabbed a few. The salty, savory taste spread through my mouth, and I closed my eyes.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. “This is good.”

  “Not a problem.” Karen smiled politely before getting up and walking out of the kitchen. I glanced after her for a few seconds before turning my attention to Steven.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “She’s nice. She’s a good roommate.”

  “Especially because she makes bacon,” Steven teased. “But yeah, she’s fine.” He yawned. “Still hoping this whole place will be ours someday.”

  I frowned. I loved the big, old farmhouse where we all lived, but I couldn’t see just Steven and myself living there. I knew that I wouldn’t exactly be making much in grad school, and Steven made a decent salary as a teacher, but it wasn’t the kind of money that could buy a house. Until recently, we’d had another roommate, Paul. But he’d left for a military deployment. We’d found Karen on Craigslist about two weeks later, and, while she was quiet, I thought she was a good fit.

  “Come on,” Steven said before I had a chance to ask him about it. “Let’s go.”

  --

  Steven drove us out of Jaffrey toward Pitcher Mountain. “I thought we could take a lazy hike,” he said. “Then maybe we could go into Peterborough for lunch. There’s a new deli that looks good – lots of craft beer on tap.”

  I nodded. “That sounds nice,” I said. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sun’s warmth on my face. I wasn’t much of a hiker – Steven was by far the more athletic – but I loved the idea of spending a lazy day in the sun with my boyfriend.

  To my relief, Steven suggested the easier path. Pitcher Mountain wasn’t huge – only a little more than two thousand feet – and in the summer, it was covered with patches of blueberries. I had to admit that it looked beautiful in the early spring. Buds covered the trees, and the grass was just beginning to glow again from a long, dreary winter.

  We walked together in silence. Steven reached for my hand and squeezed. “I know I don’t tell you a lot,” he said in a low voice as we rounded a corner and started uphill. “But I appreciate you, Elizabeth. You mean so much to me.”

  I bit my lip, smiling self-consciously. “I know,” I said softly. I squeezed Steven’s hand, and he squeezed back. “We’ve been through a lot together.”

  “We have,” Steven said. He cleared his throat, and I waited, wondering if he would say anything else. But then he swallowed. I watched as a muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “I’m happy we’re together now,” I said. “I hated when you weren’t here.”

  “I know.” Steven sighed. He ran a hand through his hair. In the sun, it looked almost blond again, like it had when we were kids. “But maybe I had to go away for a while, you know? I had to realize how much we meant to each other.”

  I nodded. “I know. I missed you every day.”

  Steven squeezed my hand. “I missed you, too,” he said. Suddenly, he stopped walking. “Elizabeth, I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” My heart skipped a beat in my chest, and I felt my fingers trembling. Steven locked eyes with me, then dropped down on one knee. I gasped as he pulled a small, velvet box from his pocket and opened it up to reveal a sparkling diamond solitaire.

  “Oh, my god,” I murmured. “What is this?”

  “Marry me, Elizabeth,” Steven said. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Make me the happiest man on Earth and say yes.”

  Tears flooded my eyes, and I started nodding rapidly, bobbing my head up and down. “Yes,” I whispered hotly. “Yes.”

  Steven leapt from the ground and pulled me into a tight embrace. He nuzzled my hair, and I tilted my face up to meet his lips. We kissed, and I felt tears spilling from my eyes as Steven locked his arms around me.

  “I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate,” I said, wiping my eyes and laughing. “I feel like I’m having a heart attack!”

  Steven pulled the solitaire ring from the box and slid it on the third finger of my left hand. It fit perfectly, and I stared down, enraptured by the shiny diamond twinkling on my hand. It was large, but understated – a simple round cut set in six prongs of white gold.

  “This is so beautiful,” I said softly. “How did you find this?”

  Steven grinned. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and squeezed me close. “I had a lucky guess,” he said. He kissed the side of my forehead.

  Right then, I was so glad to be alive. I couldn’t believe how happy I was. Being engaged seemed natural. Steven and I had been together for almost seven years – not counting the two years we were apart – and he was my best friend. Whenever I closed my eyes and thought about the future, Steven was there by my side.

  “I love you,” I said softly. The tears came back to my eyes. “I wish Monica was here.”

  Steven squeezed me again. “Do you ever think about what happened to her?”

  A lump formed in my throat, and I nodded. “Every day,” I admitted quietly. “I can’t not think about her, you know?”

  Steven nodded. “I know.” He sighed. “I do, too.”

  “David probably killed her,” I said bitterly. “Asshole.”

  Steven clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Yep,” he said. “That’s probably what happened.”

  Chapter Two

  Elizabeth – Seven Years Earlier

  “Elizabeth, come on,” Monica whined. She crossed her arms over her narrow chest and stared at me. “You know we can’t throw a party. Especially not right now.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Why not? Your parents aren’t coming back until Monday; they won’t ever know.” We kept walking away from the school, toward home on the main road.

  “It’s not that,” Monica said. “You know Jamie and Brian don’t care.” She narrowed her brown eyes. She paused and stood rooted firmly on the side of the road. A car passed, and her blonde hair whirled in the breeze, obscuring her face.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “It’s everything else,” Monica said. “You know – all this shit that’s been going on around here.” She sighed and closed her eyes. For a moment, her pale features were so still that she looked like a corpse. Then she opened her lids and sighed dramatically.

  “Like what?” I stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “My neighbor, Gene, found all six of his dairy cows dead,” Monica said. “Like, last week. Someone had snuck into the field and slit their throats.”

  I shivered. “That’s creepy,” I said. “But I don’t think someone who killed a bunch of cows is going to attack us because we have a party.”

  “It’s not just that,” Monica insisted. As always, when she was getting worked up about something, her voice rose to a higher pitch. “Whoever did it splashed the blood all over the side of Gene’s house.”

  “It was probably a bunch of bored jocks,” I said. I groaned as a truck full of football players drove past, staring at Monica and me with obvious teenage lust in their eyes. “Like those assholes,” I muttered.

  “It’s not just Gene’s cows, though,” Monica said. “What about all those people who’ve had robberies and burglaries lately?”

  I frowned. “I think my mom mentioned something about that,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Monica said. She gestured wildly with her hands. “Like, someone
breaks in and makes a mess, but they don’t take anything. Why would anyone do that?”

  I shrugged. “My mom said something about how if someone wants drug money, they’re not going to take the time to sell anything. Maybe nobody has cash lying around anymore.”

  Monica shrugged. “It seems…worse than that,” she said. A deep crease appeared in her pale forehead. “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, wouldn’t it be safer if we had a party? Lots of people around,” I said. I jerked my head in the direction of home. “Let’s go.”

  “Yeah but if something bad happened, their parents would sue Jamie and Brian,” Monica said darkly. “Everyone hates my family as it is.”

  “You worry too much,” I said firmly. “Nothing is going to happen, Monica. Everything’s fine. It’s just a party.”

  “You just want an excuse to call Steven,” Monica teased. She smirked.

  I blushed hotly. “That is not true,” I said firmly. “I don’t care about him.”

  “Yes, you do,” Monica said.

  “He hasn’t called me in weeks,” I said flatly. It was hard to keep from deflating when I thought of Steven D’Amico. A popular junior at our high school, I’d had a crush on him since the first time I saw him. He wasn’t a jerk, either; that was one of the things I liked about him. He was cool, but he wasn’t like the rest of the assholes who played football.

  Monica rolled her eyes. “His mother is nuts,” she said. “She probably got jealous.”

  In spite of myself, I snickered. “Their family is a little weird.” My stomach twisted, and I tried to shrug off the bad feeling creeping into it.

  “A little weird? Are you serious?”

  ‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘Why did I have to say that?’

  “A little weird, honestly, Elizabeth?” Monica asked bossily.

  “Just because Andrea is a freak doesn’t mean Steven is,” I said. “Come on, she was scared. She’s like a little kid.”

  “She is a little kid,” Monica said sourly. “She’s only fourteen.”

  “Just because she skipped kindergarten doesn’t mean she’s smarter than you,” I said carefully.

  “Obviously,” Monica replied. “If she were smart, she wouldn’t have acted like such a little kid last year.”

  I cringed. The previous year, Monica and Andrea had held a séance in Monica’s attic. Monica and I had been doing that for years. It had been one of our favorite things to do as kids. But since we got into high school, we stopped. Then one day, Andrea came up to Monica and asked if she could help her contact her recently dead grandmother. I still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened – I hadn’t been there – but somehow, the séance had gone badly. Andrea had run out of Monica’s house, sobbing uncontrollably. Mrs. D’Amico had called Monica’s parents, and while they hadn’t punished Monica, they’d warned her not to do that again.

  “She couldn’t help it,” I said. “She’s so naïve.”

  “She’s a little brat,” Monica said. “She seriously told me that I’m possessed.”

  I snorted. “That’s ridiculous,” I said.

  “I know.” Monica’s brown eyes flashed with anger. “Steven’s lucky he’s not crazy like his stupid sister. Have fun dealing with her when you and Steven start dating.”

  “We’re not going to start dating,” I said stubbornly. “I told you. He’s been ignoring me for weeks.”

  “Poor baby,” Monica said dryly. “So, you really want a stupid party, huh?”

  I nodded.

  “And you wanna call Steven and ask if he can come?”

  I nodded again.

  “Fine,” Monica said. “But if my house is a wreck, you’re staying to help me clean it up. And no disappearing upstairs with Steven! Don’t leave me alone.”

  I laughed. “Okay.”

  “I’m serious, Elizabeth.”

  “I said okay!”

  “Good.” Monica looked satisfied for the first time since we’d begun our walk home. “I’m going to call David and ask if he can drive down. I haven’t seen him in, like, a month.”

  I bit my lip. “Sounds good,” I lied. “I’ll be over around seven.”

  Monica and I hugged and then we parted ways. We lived on opposite sides of the small town…granted, that was less than a quarter of mile. Monica’s parents, Jamie and Brian, were old hippies. Before they’d had Monica, they’d actually lived in a nudist colony. They had an old farmhouse on the outskirts of Jaffrey. I lived with my parents and my younger brother, Aidan, in a newer development. Jaffrey was a small place – I’d known most of my classmates since elementary school – but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t one of those people who was dying to get out to a big city. I’d always loved living in New Hampshire because it felt so different than everywhere else. It wasn’t for everyone. That was why I liked it so much.

  Monica, on the other hand, was constantly unhappy that her parents had picked such a ‘desert.’ She couldn’t wait to graduate and go to college in the biggest city she could find. Every summer, she went to camp for teen members of Mensa, and that was where she had met David.

  When Monica had come home from camp about three months ago, she’d gushed about David until I thought my head was going to explode. I’d never really seen her get like that about anyone before. Monica was the understated to my loud; hearing her talk about a guy for hours on end was a little unnerving. By the time I met David, my expectations were sky-high.

  He didn’t exactly meet them, either.

  Monica’s parents had told her to invite David up for a weekend. She’d invited me over for dinner, and amongst the Tibetan kitsch that Jamie had strewn around the family home, I tried to get to know my best friend’s new boyfriend.

  I still remember it like it was yesterday.

  The evening had gone incredibly poorly. Afterwards, Monica had explained that David must have been nervous…he wasn’t normally so arrogant. But I wasn’t sure I believed her. David had a magnetic energy about him, but not necessarily in a good way. He seemed like the kind of person who would either wind up a reclusive genius or a serial killer. He looked the part, too – dressed in black from head to toe, with a perpetual smirk and longish black hair that flopped over his coal-black eyes.

  I was hoping he wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.

  The house was empty when I got home. My brother, Aidan, had just started playing junior-high football, and he was usually at practice for hours. My mom worked as a nurse at a hospital in Keene, and my dad was traveling for business. I took a long bath, then made myself a tomato and mayonnaise sandwich. As I nibbled the crust, I flipped through the channels, wondering how I would work up the nerve to call Steven.

  Finally, I bit my lip and grabbed my phone. It took three times to get enough signal for the call to go out, and I shifted nervously on the couch as I listened to the muted ringing on the other end.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, this is Elizabeth Hartsell. I’m calling for Steven. Is he available?”

  “Oh, hi Elizabeth.” I recognized Andrea’s high-pitched voice. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.” I swallowed nervously.

  “That math test was so bad,” Andrea said. “I studied, but it was like, when I sat down, the answers weren’t in my head.”

  “I know,” I complained. “I hate math.”

  “What are you doing this weekend?”

  “Um, not much. Is Steven around?”

  “I think he’s in his room.”

  “Can I talk to him?”

  “Why?”

  I groaned inwardly. Annoyance flashed through my mind, followed almost immediately by guilt.

  “I have to ask him something,” I said.

  “You can tell me,” Andrea said. “I’ll go ask for you.”

  I sighed. “Andrea, sorry, may I please speak to your brother?”

  “Fine.” There was a loud click as Andrea set the phone down. I heard her muffled foots
teps and her voice calling for Steven. He yelled something back, and a few seconds later, I heard the phone click back on.

  “Hey Elizabeth.”

  I blushed. “Hi.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Monica’s parents are out of town this weekend, and she’s having a party later. You wanna come?”

  Steven chuckled. His voice was deeper than so many of the other guys at school – on the phone, he sounded like an adult. “Hold on a sec,” Steven said. “I’m taking the phone in my room.”

  I heard Andrea’s loud protest in the background, and I couldn’t keep myself from silently cursing at her.

  A few seconds later, Steven said, “What time?”

  “I think around eight.”

  “Yeah, I’ll drop by for a little bit.” Steven yawned. “I’m getting pizza with some of the guys later. You care if they come, too?”

  “No,” I said. Disappointment seeped through my veins. If Steven showed up with a bunch of jocks, I knew he wouldn’t pay any attention to me.

  “Cool. Well, I’ll see you, Elizabeth.”

  “See you.”

  We hung up, but I sat on my couch for a long time, clutching my phone in my hand.

  --

  Two hours later, I bounded up the steps to Monica’s parents’ house. The Boers had done little to modernize the farmhouse. There was heat and running water, but little else. They didn’t even have a full kitchen. Monica’s mother, Jamie, went shopping every day and kept the food in a little miniature refrigerator, like the kind of thing you’d see in a dorm room. Her father, Brian, had a garden out back, and he hunted and shot most of the meat the family ate. There was a huge freezer in the basement stocked full of venison and bear.

  I’d always been intrigued by the way Monica lived with her parents. For one thing, they trusted her absolutely. It wasn’t unusual for them to leave her alone for three or four days at a time. For another, they never really worried about her. They told her that they were proud of her no matter what she did, as long as she wanted to do it well. That made me jealous. When I’d been younger, my parents had been tough on me. My brother, Aidan, was thirteen, but my mom and dad still treated him like the baby of the family. He got everything he wanted, and I was the one who had to do most of the chores around the house.

 

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