Page 21

TWENTY

“What was that?” When we finally get inside the truck and head out of the parking lot, Kaden asks, “What was that?”

“What was what?” I am trying to find out for myself what the hell came over me. I felt like I was someone else back there.

“I mean, I appreciate you trying to defend me all.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” I look over my shoulder to see if anyone is following us. Kevin or the cops, but there’s no one. The only thing visible is the dark road and the moon’s reflection on the back bend of his truck. “No one is following us.” I face forward in my seat.

“He won’t,” Kaden says quietly.

“How do you know?”

“Kevin is all talk, and he knows I work at the carnival. My kind of crowd isn’t his.”

He means Draco. “I can see why,” I tell him and smile to myself. Wondering what Draco would have done, but I know the answer. Draco would fuck him up. I’m not sure about the rest of them.

I glance at him briefly, wanting to thank him for sticking up for me. It’s the first time in my life someone has done that. Especially knowing what I did in the past. “Thank you.”

“For what?” he asks, looking straight ahead.

“Thank you for taking me out to eat.” For not judging me because…” I trail off.

“We all have a past, Athena. Some are just darker than others. It doesn’t mean we have to judge people for them. And you don’t have to thank me. It’s just food.”

“I’m not used to people being nice to me.” I glance out the window when I notice the road getting darker and the trees getting bigger under the shadows of the moonlight. This is not the way to the motel. I look out the rear window and then back out the windshield.

“This is not the way to the motel.”

“I know.” A wave of dread snakes up my spine. “Where are you taking me?”

“I’m not going to hurt you... we aren’t going to hurt you.”

“We?” Alarm bells start ringing. “Take me back.”

“I’m not going to take you back to the motel. I can’t sleep knowing you’re there alone, and I hate the way men look at you.”

What if he’s one of the people behind the killings? My palms sweat. My heart pounds inside my chest. Dread swirls inside my stomach.

Relax, Athena.

“Why do you care?”

Why would he? Besides, Draco doesn’t want me around his circle.

“Because I do.”

I give him a surprised, ‘What the fuck?’ look.

“Not in a weird way. I’m just…I don’t know. Protective?”

I felt the same way, but I don’t want to admit that to him because it doesn’t make sense. None of it does.

“Where is home?”

He turns onto a dirt road that leads deeper into the woods and then up to a sprawling black iron electronic gate that opens when it senses his truck.

“Here,” he says, pulling up to a driveway that leads to a modern two-story house practically made of glass windows.

Outdoor light sconces illuminate the gray concrete walls and light up the green shrub shedding its leaves.

“This is home,” he says proudly.

It’s impressive. As soon as he steps out, the in-ground lights turn on with every step.

“I can’t stay,” I tell him, wishing I could.

He shuts the door, leaving me with no choice but to get out and follow him inside through the oversized wood-paneled door opening to a hallway with black slate tiles and white walls.

The entire house boasts an open concept design. I could see the marble from the center island in the kitchen, the living room, and the wooden staircase made from the same wood paneling as the rest of the house. Modern appliances dress the kitchen fit for a chef.

I scan the rest of the house and the stairway to see if anyone else is home, but I don’t see any sign that anyone else lives here. There are no picture frames. The walls are bare except for three paintings of an old carnival.

“Is anyone home?”

“No,” he says, locking the front door behind me. “It’s why I brought you here. We have a guest room, and it’s mostly empty this time of year when the rest of the crew is out on the road. It’s why I offered for you to stay here back at the diner. It’s not like anyone is using the space.

“But I thought Draco said…”

“He made a mistake,” he interrupts. “He didn’t mean what he said.”

“So you brought me here to convince me to stay? Aren’t you afraid of me?”

He snorts. “I should be asking you that question. When you realized I wasn’t taking you to the motel… you should have seen your face.”

I was hoping he wouldn’t notice.

My phone buzzes, and I see that it’s Rachel.”

Rachel: Where are you?

“Shit.”

“What is it?” he says, concern laced in his voice.

I totally forgot I have work.

“It’s work.” I grimace. I’ve never missed a night since I started.

“Take the day off.”

I arch a brow. “Do you take a day off?”

“It’s not an option for me. I have school and work at the carnival.”

I grin. “You mean the circus.” He pauses, and I can tell he was hoping I wouldn’t figure out that he and Draco are part of the circus. They all are. I pieced it together. What I have seen and what Rachal told me at the club. “Circus of Freaks, right.”

He averts his gaze. He averts his gaze.

“Find out what exactly?” There is so much I don’t know. So much I want to know. Who they are, where they came from, but more importantly, who is Draco?

He shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

Meaning he said too much, but the question is what is he hiding? But I can’t ask because I want to know as much as I can. I’m sure he feels the same way about me.

I look around the modern house and pause at the glass railing, wondering how they keep it from being smudged by fingerprints.

“That’s where the bedrooms are,” he says, following my gaze.

“Are you sure no one is home?”

“Like I said, no one stays here.”

“But you do?”

He nods. I like space to think. So does Lazarus.”

“Who’s Lazarus?” I ask curiously. The name seems familiar, but at the same time, it doesn’t.

He clears his throat. “He’s sort of my father.”

My eyes dart to his, confused. “Sort of? How is that exactly?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he is or isn’t. You said Draco is your uncle, and if Lazarus is his brother, then…”

“He’s my father.”

There is something that doesn’t add up, but I’m not one to pry, and the last thing I need is for him to do the same about me.

“Will he be here later?” I ask instead.

He shakes his head. “No. He’s busy with something. He’s gone most of his time. Draco and the others are working at the carnival. The closer it gets to Halloween, the busier it gets around here.”

“The shows?”

He rubs his lips together. “Something like that.” And walks to the kitchen and then says over his shoulder, “Are you thirsty?” He presses the screen on the refrigerator and the view of the inside comes to view. “We have soda, wine, water, juice, milk and…beer.”

“I’m okay.”

He opens a cabinet revealing rows of cereals of all kinds in fancy containers with wood lids. “Cereal?”

I bite my bottom lip. It’s been years since I had some. I spot what looks like Art Crispies reminding me when I would go grocery shopping a few times reminding me of the Terrifier on the box.

He grabs the exact one, sliding it out. “This one is my favorite,” he says.

My stomach growls loudly in response. I didn’t finish my food at the burger spot. I think I took two bites before Kevin showed up.

He raises his brow, holding out the container. “Hungry for some? I am but you can pick whichever one you like or I can order you whatever you want.”

I smile. “This one is fine.”

He grabs two bowls and spoons. I make myself useful and grab the milk and beat him to the counter to serve us both, like he’s my five-year-old kid brother.

After pushing the bowl toward him, I take a seat next to him at the island. “So Mia, huh?”

His spoon pauses midair before he says, “Not really.”

“Change of heart after tonight?”

I take a bite, waiting for him to tell me more.

He stares at his bowl of cereal for a few seconds before he replies, “I like her physically, but I don’t really know her. And to be honest, I didn’t like the way she acted back there.” He shakes his head. “It wouldn’t work out anyway.”

“Why not?” I ask. He looks lonely and stays in this big house by himself.

He sighs. “It wouldn’t because we’re from two different worlds. She’s normal.”

I laugh. “What, and you’re not?” He’s the most normal human I have ever met.

He raises his eyebrows before beaming a bright smile that fills me with warmth. He’s beautiful, and if Mia can’t see that, she doesn’t deserve him.

“No. I’m not. I’m part of a circus.”

“And?”

“And some people find that odd. They find it stupid and not a real profession. One that lasts.”

“Then you’re right. If she thinks that…wait...why wouldn’t it last?”

“Do you see older people performing in a circus? You can get hurt. You can”—he swallows—”die.”

“People die all the time,” I say between bites. “It could be from anything. Have you asked her what she thinks?”

After a few seconds, the kitchen grows silent. I get up, giving him time to think about it while I wash the dishes.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says behind me when I grab the soap and sponge and start cleaning.

“It’s the least I can do.”

After I clean the dishes and place them to dry, he gets up. “Come, I’ll show you upstairs. There are five other bedrooms.”

“Which one is the guest bedroom?” I ask following him up the stairs after grabbing my bag off the counter.

“Mostly, all of them are guest bedrooms. Except the master bedroom and mine.”

“Where do the others live?” What I really mean is, where does Draco live? but I don’t want to seem too interested in where he sleeps.

“Fancy trailers, and on very rare occasions, my dad and uncle stay at the main home.”

“Main home?” How many homes do they have? I was unaware that people who worked in a traveling circus made enough money to own multiple homes.

He leads me to the hallway with four doors. There are two doors on one side and one on the other. Kaden stops in front of the first door. “This is my room.” I step behind him when he opens the door, not wanting to seem nosy but eager to see his space.

There is so much you can find out about someone’s bedroom. If they are messy, neat, or artistic. What type of furniture they like, trinkets that tell you what they find important.

As I peer inside Kaden’s room, I see that he is neat and into horror movies. The wall opposite the queen-sized bed features a floating shelf under the TV, adorned with various figurines of characters from various horror movies. Freddy Krueger, Jason, Michael Myers, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, and IT, my favorite Stephen King movie. All vintage. All collectibles. My mother hated that I watched them since I was little. She said I was obsessed with horror. She said it was disturbing. I told her she was boring.

“Those are awesome,” I tell him, trying to control my excitement, but I can’t help but stare.

“Yeah, we partnered with a company that makes them. We sell them at the souvenir shop at the main fair. Which one is your favorite?”

I bend slightly, staring at each one and zeroing in on IT. “IT. It is my favorite.”

“How come?”

“I guess it’s because Pennywise feeds off fear. IT is fueled by your imagination. What scares you deep inside? It doesn’t matter if you’re a kid or an adult. Our deepest fears plague us all. “Anyone can be a killer or wear a mask to hide who they truly are.” But fear—that you can’t control. That’s personal.”

“How about Freddy?” he asks picking him up. His burnt face unable to hide his evil smile.

“He’s second because of the whole ‘I’ll kill you in your dreams’ thing, but he can still be killed. He’s easy because you know where to find him. But Pennywise…”

“Multiverse?”

I straighten and smile. “Exactly.”

He places Freddy back on the shelf. “Don’t fuck with Pennywise. Got it. “You and my uncle feel the same way about clowns,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Not everyone feels the same way about clowns,” I counter. He knows I’m talking about Kevin.

“He wouldn’t know.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Kevin hasn’t seen one yet.” I don’t miss the warning in his tone, but for some reason I don’t want him to get in trouble.

“Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You mean don’t get caught? So they don’t think you’re crazy.” My stomach sinks. The air in the room shifts. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I know you didn’t mean it like that, but yeah, don’t get into trouble.”

“You can stay here as long as you need,” he says, changing the subject. I know he is trying to be nice, but I’ll only accept his hospitality this once. I can see it in his eyes that he’s going against Draco’s wishes, and I shouldn’t be here, but there is a huge part of me that wants to stay. To belong.It’s nice to have a meal inside a house, even it’s just a bowl of cereal. A nice warm bed and a hot shower that isn’t caked in mold.

Just this once.

As I follow Kaden back out into the hallway, it feels like a large brick is pushing against my chest realizing how alone I am. I have no one. No home. Not even a closet full of clothes.

“Pick which one you like,” he says, opening each door.

I glance inside each room with their plush beds and dark gray sheets, dark hardwood floors, and gray-painted walls. Modern, simplistic, but I don’t miss the one with the masquerade masks or the one with a clown theme, but then I stop in front of the last bedroom. It has an en suite bathroom, but what has me mesmerized is the massive black wood bed with black silk sheets. The dark charcoal gray walls with drawings of roses. Gold details line the bedposts, and the tufted headboard looks handmade, like it was imported from a Gothic mansion.

“I call it Dracula’s room,” Kaden says behind me.

“It’s gorgeous,” I say softly.

The smell inside the room is different. The scent is masculine, rich, and powerful. It has a woman’s touch, but you can tell a man dominates this room.

“Whose bedroom is this?” I ask, adjusting the strap of my bag up on my shoulders. Then touching the edge of the wooden footboard with my fingertips

“No one.”

I look at the candelabras on each nightstand with gold with black taper candles made of skulls. Whoever decorated this room wanted to mix vintage with modern and didn’t miss a beat. It even has a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room

I would never want to leave this room.

“I doubt that this room doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“It’s the only room that mirrors the same theme as the main home.”

“Where is it?” I ask curiously.

He swallows nervously. “Not far.”

I can tell in his gaze he isn’t sure if he should tell me.

I approach the armoire and trace the intricate designs on the paneled doors, which swirl up like vines reminding me of a something I can’t remember. Like I’ve done this before.

“You like this room?”

“I do,” I say truthfully.

“Then stay here as long as you need to.”

Kaden’s the only person who has offered me a place to stay. The only person who seems to care. I blink back tears. “Thank you.”

“The bathroom has towels, and I’m sure one of the drawers has something for you to wear. If you need anything else, let me know.” He pulls out his phone. “What’s your number so you can text me if you need anything?”

I smile and give him my number, watching as he enters it on his screen, grinning as if he’s won a prize from the fair.

“Got it.” He points behind him with his thumb. “If you need anything, I’ll be down the hall.”

After he shuts the door behind him, I walk around the room and stop in front of a dresser. I grab the drawer by its metal ring, flinching when it emits a loud, and swiftly close it to avoid creating unnecessary noise. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m going to take something.

After a warm shower in the vintage clawfoot tub, I opt for my dancer’s outfit I had in my bag to wear for my shift at the club. It’s not something I would wear prancing around in their house, but it’s better than sleeping naked. The black shorts are like underwear that match a schoolgirl outfit. I hated buying it, but Rachel said the men loved it and would tip me well. I detested the way men would watch me wearing it.But I needed the money; the worst part is it made me start taking the medication Dr. Foster gave me. Dancing in it triggered the past, and all I wanted to do was lure the men in the back and slice their throats when the lust would drip from their eyes because to them, I was a schoolgirl. A fantasy that sickened me.

In my eyes, they were all predators when I wore it. Their fantasies fed my revenge for those girls that were missing. How they could they overlook the reality of what those poor girls were facing while men were having illicit thoughts as music played in the background. Consensual sex was one thing. Tipping a girl to dance was one thing, but thinking of fucking an innocent underage girl was evil.

I peer out the bedroom window noticing the crescent moon reflecting off the roof of Kaden’s truck. The clouds like wisps in the sky.

The trees loom in the backdrop swaying in the wind. Peaceful but dark. I blink twice when I think I see a dark figure standing near the tree line. I lean closer my nose almost touching the window, trying to make out the shadows making out a man’s figure.

A chill snakes down my spine.I try not to blink, the cold air from the air conditioner vent above making my eyes dry out. It looks like a man watching me through the window.

The glow from the chandelier reflects off the window and I can see my eyes widen to keep them from blinking but it’s no use. He vanishes as soon as I blink.

“Shit,” I mutter.

It’s not the first time I thought someone was watching me. Countless times in my bedroom at Chris’s house, I would experience the unsettling sensation that someone was either watching me from the window or following me as I walked home during my first week of school.

I told my mother about it. She said I was seeing things and should talk to someone about it. She suggested that my hallucinations stemmed from my fear of acclimating to our new life in Stockbridge.

In my mother’s eyes, I was unstable. I was always an unwanted problem. Now I was a monster she had every reason to get rid of.