Page 49
Chapter 16
Addie
Ihad an extremely slappable face. It was funny the things you noticed about yourself when you should’ve been focusing on anything else.
Full bottom lip. High cheekbones. Chiseled jawline. Brown curls framing a cherubic face. She wore an off-kilter black dress that dipped low, revealing a swath of golden skin and considerable cleavage. A white collar and matching white cufflinks provided much needed elegance to the scantily-clad attire. At least, those were my mother’s words the first time I had worn it. A simple pearl necklace completed the outfit. There were no scars distorting her face. No bruises.
No pain.
The contentment radiating from her like warm sun beams was almost tangible.
God, I really did look annoying. It was no wonder Elena wanted to punch me. Repeatedly. With a sledge-hammer. And a baseball bat. A metal one. Or did a wood one hurt more?
“You’re rambling,” she said. “We always did get carried away.” The girl chuckled, and I finally pulled my attention away from her sexy body and focused on her words.
“We?” I quirked an eyebrow reproachfully, unable to stop my gaze from skating over the petite figure. She really did look like me, but there was something different in her eyes. A sort of glacial coldness and loneliness that has long since diminished since forging my relationship - or was it relationships? - with the guys.
Shrugging, she ventured a step forward.
“I am you. You are me.”
A sudden chill swept over my body, down my spine, and into the soles of my feet. Darkness pierced the kitchen, so suddenly that I scrambled to my feet. In a matter of seconds, the guys dematerialized into thin air leaving only me and the girl. Myself.
“Where am I?” My arms wrapped around my waist, but it did little to fight off the frigidly keen air. Was there a window opened? That was the only explanation I could conjure up to explain the steep decline in temperature. My breath came out in puffs.
Smiling serenely, the other me extended a hand. “Come, I’ll show you.”
I remained still, indecisive. I wished that the guys were here. God, how I needed their strength. Mustering up what little courage I had, I accepted her hand. Her smooth fingers and palm caused me to jump. In the days since everything had went to hell, my own were covered in blisters and unhealed callouses. I couldn’t even remember a time when my hands were that soft.
She led me through the front doorway and into the street.
Snow percolated down, blanketing the grass and skeletal tree branches. A blighted sun hung high in the sky, hinting that it was already midday. Despite the cold air, the sight was peaceful. Tranquil. Almost beautiful.
“Where am I?” I whispered, spinning in a circle. I extended my hands to catch the wisps of snow. It was something I used to do when I was younger, and I supposed the habit hadn’t stopped with age. Mother had called me childish and had told me that catching snowflakes was for babies. She seemed to have forgotten that I was only six when she first started reprimanding me.
“Do you remember this place?” the other me countered beseechingly. I tried to tamper down my irritation at being ignored, instead focusing on her words.
“Should I?”
“Think, Addie. Think.”
I was such a condescending asshole at times.
Ignoring her, I focused once again on the fluffy snow, faded street signs, and white painted buildings. One in particular captured and held my attention. Foreboding dug its penetrating claws deeper into my spine.
The dilapidated house with its wrap-around porch and chipped siding was familiar, almost eerily so. My face paled. I was looking at a ghost, both literally and figuratively.
Paint had long since flaked off, the white color resembling a muddy brown. Warped wood, nails protruding from the rickety staircase, beams with no support. It was a disaster just waiting to happen.
And it was also my happy place.
“I used to visit Ducky here,” I whispered. I didn’t know whether to be awed or stunned. Legs shaking, I took a step closer. “It was during winter vacation. He didn’t have school, and there was a padlock on the gate surrounding the playground. We couldn’t meet there. One day, we went exploring, and we stumbled across this abandoned house.”
I stepped up onto the deck of the bungalow, being extra mindful of the loose nails.
“I had completely forgotten about this place.” Turning towards the other me, I added, “We only stayed here for a couple weeks.”
And they had been some of the best weeks of my life. It had been Ducky and I against the world. In the small house with plastered walls and deteriorating wood, I had never felt more alive. Mansions had nothing on this place.
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