“So much.” He lifted his bright green eyes to mine. “But let’s start with the big one. I left you here to deal with all this shit. Things are so much worse than I thought they’d be.”
Yeah, things had really taken a turn for the worst, and that was saying something in this town. “I’ve never been anyone’s favorite person.”
“But the worst you’ve done is be a Madison,” Thorn said.
“They treat you like you murdered someone,” Colton added. “Or slept with Reverend Quimby.”
I shuddered. Reverend Quimby was Gran’s favorite person in the world. She might even love him more than her clown dolls. Me, on the other hand, I thought his black, slicked back hair, dyed goatee, and heavy gold jewelry were sketchy. He showed all his teeth when he smiled—it was weird.
“But they always have,” I said, going back to Colton’s statement. “I’ve always been someone they don’t want around.”
“It’s not always been this bad,” Thorn said. “Take my mom. She used to stand up for you.”
I lifted my eyebrows. Mrs. Evans was one of the most vocal people in the shame Lacey camp. “Your mother hates me.”
“She does now,” he replied. “She didn’t before I left.”
“Thorn.” Did he even know about what his mother had done? The woman had stopped me on the street to berate me, and then! And then! She offered to buy me Plan B, just in case. She actually said that. “Just in case.” “Thorn. Your mother has given Gran a run for her money when it comes to meanness.”
“It’s not her,” he said, shaking his head, and I rolled my eyes.
“Thorn,” Colt interjected. “What the fuck are you doing, man? Your mom’s a nightmare influenced by the monster.”
Ohhhh. I laughed. “That’s so much better than you taking your mom’s side over mine. That’s a deal breaker, dude.”
“Dude?” One side of his lips lifted in a smile. “I should have started with that. My point is—the monster is making every negative emotion more negative because it has a vested interest in getting you on your own. If you have no one and no options, you’ll turn to him.”
“Fuck that shit,” I said. “I’m not going to throw myself in the arms of the first nice guy I come acr—” Oh, shit. Hadn’t I just done that with Aaron and Ollie? I literally spent the night in Aaron’s arms. But he wasn’t a monster. Was he? “Aaron?”
Colton scowled. “As much as I’d like to give you a reason to avoid him, he’s not a monster. He’s one of us.”
“One of you? A teenager?” I didn’t otherwise see the comparison. “Male?”
“No, he’s here hunting the monsters. That’s what his family does. We found them online. We posted about this place enough that we got his father’s attention, and they came here. Took me a hot second to realize it was them, but I worked it out at the barn the other night. They’re monster hunters. Professionally.” Colton smiled like he’d just handed me a gift.
This was all too much. The Chees were monster hunters? No, he worked at the factory, and they were just nice home-schooled kids. Oliver was going to be a vet. Was everyone in on this vast monster conspiracy? I couldn’t deal with this. Not one more fucking second.
“Look, thanks for the apology, Thorn, but that couldn’t have been what you apologized to me about that night.” I forced myself to put on my I-don’t-give-a-shit face. I was good at not caring. Today had thrown me, but I ever so slowly, inch by inch, moment by moment, rebuilt my walls. The first step was always to steel my expressions. The rest would follow. I cleared my throat. “I think that we won’t see things the same way. Maybe your families are being negatively influenced. Whatever the reason, I’m over it.” I walked to the door. “I’m going home.”
Thorn ran up next to me. “You can’t walk. And I wasn’t done explaining. I’ll drive you home. We can talk in the car.”
“I’ll come.” Colton got to his feet, and Thorn shot him a look.
“Can I get five minutes alone with her?”
His friend shook his head. “You’re not as good at monster spotting. I need to check her house.”
“I’m perfectly fucking good at monster spotting. I need to talk to her. Like I did that night. There are things to tell her. You know that.”
Colton groaned. “Fine. Go. Lacey, I’d like to keep talking to you. Can I get your number?”
I blinked. “I don’t have a cell phone. Calling the main line will just get my gran worked up. So, no, you can’t call me. Sorry.”
“Damn.” Colton rocked back on his feet. “Okay. We’ll figure this out.”
“Until the so-called monster who makes your moms mean, sorry meaner, compels you to leave again. I think it might just be better—safer for the two of you—if you just stay away. I’ve done okay this last year. I’ll figure it out. Thorn, if you’re driving me, then let’s get to it. Otherwise, I can walk. My feet work just fine.”
I walked outside and climbed into Thorn’s car. It still smelled new. He got into the driver’s seat but didn’t immediately turn on the car.
Instead, he stared at me for a long moment. I refused to drop my head or look away. I also wasn’t going to talk first. They were small, ridiculous wins, but they mattered to me.
Ten
Thorn stared back at me, and I tried to keep my resting-bitch-face on. But it was hard. He was the most stubborn person I knew.
Other than me.
He widened his eyes, and I could almost hear what he was thinking. How long are we going to do this?”
“Lacey, I am sorry. I am so sorry. If I could go back in time, I would kiss you, and I would hold you, and I wouldn’t let a single fucking thing drag me away from you.”
Sunlight streamed through the passenger window. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, and his green eyes were bright like emeralds.
I wanted to not believe him, but I knew Thorn. I knew him. And he was being totally, one hundred percent genuine. He held my gaze for one more second, and before I could say anything, he put the car in gear.
I wasn’t someone who kept my thoughts to myself. I usually had a ready answer. But right now?
I had nothing.
He drove, eyes on the road, and not once did he look over at me. Thorn just let me sit with it. I glanced out the window. We were getting closer to my house. Gran had to know what happened, and chances were, if she’d been drinking at all, she’d be waiting for me at home with a bat.
And she was probably drunk.
Thorn slowed as he turned into our development. “You could stay with me,” he finally said.
“You’re with your parents?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he answered. “For now.”
“Then my answer is no.” His mother still hated me, real or monster-induced, and who knew if the police were going to show up any time soon. I could just see her horrified face when Colton’s uncle showed up with handcuffs at her front door.
“Do you think you can ever forgive me, Lacey?” he asked, as he pulled the car into my driveway and put it in park.
I studied my oldest and first friend. The truth was, whether I admitted it or not, I had forgiven him. But I wasn’t ready to say that. At church, Reverend Quimby talked about forgiveness and how a person would feel forgiveness, but I knew better. Forgiveness was work. It was a conscious decision to let go of a hurt or a wrong, and it took more self-reflection than I was capable of at the moment.
Nevertheless, I met Thorn’s eyes and nodded. The smile that lit his face was beautiful, and it made an answering smile come to my lips before I caught my front door opening. Oh shit. My stomach clenched. I didn’t want to go in there.
Gran appeared in the doorway. She was only an inch or two taller than me with iron gray hair and a lanky, leathery body.
If she didn’t have a cigarette, I would have had a chance. It meant she hadn’t started drinking. But that long, slim thing hung from her fingers. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I better go,” I said, pushing open the door.
; Thorn touched my hand before I could get out, and I glanced over my shoulder. “I’m going to park my car out of sight, and then I’ll be back,” he said. “I don’t like leaving you here. Something feels off.”
“It’s probably the fumes.” I tipped my head toward my grandmother. “Her breath is a hundred proof.”
Thorn pointed toward the driveway. “Whose car is that next to Christopher’s?”
I stared at it. “No idea, actually. Probably one of Christopher’s shitty friends. They mostly leave me alone.” I swallowed. “I want to run from them all the time. So I’m not sure how to use Colt’s run-if-you-think-you-should trick when it comes to the monster.” I looked away. “And I’m not sure I’ve bought into this to begin with.”
He shook his head. “Colton and I aren’t all that great at telling. The first time we were sure we’d spotted it was with Mr. Roberts. And we… it’s questionable whether or not we should have busted in on him like that. I don’t think he can compel us again. We took precautions, but I’m concerned we may have overdone it. Anyway, I guess if you want to run from someone you don’t usually want to run from—do it. I’m going to try to figure out a better system for you. And I guess we can talk to your neighbors.”
Speaking of them, I looked over at their porch. Both of the brothers stood on the porch, watching the car. I had things to say to them, but something to say to Thorn first. I took a deep breath. “I have forgiven you, and I appreciate the apology. More than you’ll ever know. But—” Gran was still staring daggers on the porch, so I looked at my hands. “Why did you stop being my friend? We were so close, and then it was like you didn’t want anything to do with me in public. I mean, you weren’t cruel. Neither you nor Colt were, but you were just gone from my life. Did I do something? Do I owe you an apology?”
I raised my gaze to look at him. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I fucked up. I could give you this whole speech about pressure and trying to fit in, trying to make my father proud with the football and the whole persona.” He looked away, staring out the window. “I don’t like myself for what I did. I missed you. Lacey, you and Colton were my only true friends. And if it means anything, Colt always told me I was a fucking idiot. I wasn’t a good friend to you. Not for a long time, and yet the night you can’t remember, you forgave me. Thank you. You seem to have again.”
I put my hand on his arm. “You were my friend in private, and you were never mean. Is that perfect? No. But I appreciate it nonetheless.” Movement from the porch caught my attention. Gran was stubbing out her cigarette and looked ready to come get me herself. “Gotta go.”
I got out of his car and turned toward the neighbor’s house. I had to get inside. But before I did, there was something I had to say to the Chees.
“Hey,” I shouted at Aaron and Oliver. They were monster hunters? Sure, convince the idiot next door that you’re just nice people while you’re pumping her for information. No wonder Aaron had seemed awfully interested in the monsters. “You’re all liars. You want information? I don’t even remember any. Ask Thorn. Leave me alone. I don’t need fake friends.”
With that, I stormed past Gran into my house, steeling myself for a fight.
The door shut behind me, and I froze. What awaited me in there was not something I could ever have imagined. The good Reverend Quimby sat on my couch.
“Lacey,” he said in that deep voice that made the old ladies tithe their incomes to him.
“Reverend,” I replied. Gran came in behind me and stopped, right next to the door. The woman was cagey, and I didn’t like the way she stood coiled, ready to pounce. “It’s nice to see you.” Lies.
“I wish I could say the same,” he replied, sighing and shaking his head dramatically. He reached into his pocket and removed a handkerchief, which he placed on his knee. Gran had air conditioning, but it was warm in here nonetheless, and his brow was already dotted with sweat. He didn’t use it on his face, though. He left it where it was. “Your grandmother is very concerned about you. She received a call from the police today. Now, Lacey, you understand that forgiveness is the cornerstone of your grandmother’s faith, but after your many transgressions, she is finding it hard to understand you.”
He stood and walked over to the big bay window that looked across the street. I noticed him grimace at the dolls sitting blank-eyed in their chairs before he put his hands behind his back. The handkerchief was clutched in his hand.
“I didn’t do anything,” I said.
“You didn’t draw phalluses over the water tower?” he asked.
I was distracted by his use of the word, phalluses. Was that the correct plural? It wasn’t phalli? Or phallum. I’d have to look it up later. “I had nothing to do with the janitor’s death today.”
“Evil invites evil, Lacey,” he intoned. “If you do not do what is right, sin is crouching at your door; it desires to have you.” He cleared his throat as he turned to face me. “Genesis.”
The reverend was big on sin. It was his favorite topic. That and the fiery pits that awaited all of us.
“You are evil.” I jumped. Gran had snuck up on me, her raspy, cigarette smoke voice shrill in my ear.
“I had nothing to do with the janitor’s death,” I said. “And those football players are all alive.”
“Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light.” The words rolled off Gran’s tongue. I stared at her, shocked, because in all the Sundays and all the church bingos, I’d never heard her quote scripture. Something was wrong here, something was off.
Run when you want to run. I wanted to run.
I spun and lurched for the door, but Gran caught my arm before I could get my hand on the knob. Her grip was strong—weirdly strong—and I couldn’t break away from her.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said. “Reverend Quimby agrees with me.”
My heart pounded in my chest, and I had to swallow before I could speak. “Agrees with you about what?”
Her fingers dug into my arm painfully, and I again, tried to pull away from her. She only held on tighter. I’d have more bruises when this was over.
“Agrees with you about what?” I asked again.
She jerked me forward, just as a handkerchief covered my mouth. “That you must be cleansed.” I sucked in a breath to scream and instead, got a lungful of sweet-smelling chemical. Everything tilted and then faded to nothing.
I walked through the desert, chasing Robbie. I knew this dream. I had it a lot.
“Come back,” I yelled for him, but he escaped me time and again.
He shook his head and looked at me with huge eyes. “It’s too late for me. But not for you, Lacey.”
A sound I didn’t recognize caught my attention, and I whirled around. Staring out at me from the darkness were yellow eyes. I was caught in them.
I sat up straight, screaming at the top of my lungs. I lay on the floor of the living room. Strong hands held me down, and I stared at them. It took me a moment to recognize their faces.
Jesse Reeve and Jett Adams. They were both deacons at Gran’s church. The two Js. I hated them. They sneered at me on Sundays. Now they were helping Reverend Quimby do what? What was he doing to me? What was going on?
My heart beat so loud, I could hear it in my ears. I struggled against Jesse, but Jett had his knee digging into my stomach. I couldn’t move. My limbs weren’t right. I should have been stronger than this. What in the ever-loving fuck was happening here?
The reverend stood over me, he spoke strange words I couldn’t understand. Gran watched me in the corner, an evil glint to her eyes as she stared at me.
“You have to be cleansed,” she spoke over the Reverend. “Evil is all over you. And you don’t know who to trust. Now you won’t forget.”
Oh hell, I knew what this was. They were performing an exorcism, and as much as my gran was a disaster to live with, it wasn’t her with me right at that moment. It was the monster.
I struggled harder. “All of you have to stop. This is insanit
y. You’re performing an exorcism? I’m not possessed. My grandmother is a monster. I need you to understand. I…” The reverend dumped water over my head. I choked as some of it got into my mouth.
Panic flooded me as I coughed and sputtered. As soon as I could draw breath, I screamed at the top of my lungs. Water poured over my head again and into my mouth. I was going to drown on my living room floor. Oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
This was just ridiculous. This couldn’t actually be happening. Except somehow—fuck—it was.
My gran—or whoever it was—walked into the bedroom, leaving the scene. I struggled, and Jett dug his knee harder into my gut.
A bang sounded in the back of the house, and a second later, my cousin Christopher walked into the living room. He rubbed his eyes like he’d been asleep. Behind him, Maura gasped. “What the fuck is going on here?”
The reverend started to babble a combination of nonsensical consonants mushed together. He held his hands to the sky.
“He’s speaking in tongues,” Deacon Adams whispered, eyes shining with excitement.
“I’m on fucking probation,” Christopher said, his gaze on me. His face was pale. Was he actually going to help me?
Nope.
He grabbed Maura’s hand and dragged her toward the front door. The good reverend nodded at them, as if they were doing the right thing, but Maura stumbled. “We can’t just leave—”
“I’m not going back to county because my grandmother is a nut job,” he growled as he opened the door and shut it behind them.
Reverend Quimby turned and brought a pitcher of water over my head. I was barely able to breathe now. Panic and fear were making it hard to draw in air. He tipped the pitcher and the water dripped into my eyes, before he poured it faster.
I couldn’t think anymore. Everything inside me was focused on the liquid flooding my nose and mouth, short-circuiting rational thought.
Eyes in the Darkness (The Coveted) Page 8
