Demon at My Door (18 page)

The tone chirps as I press the button. It rings twice before Taylor’s happy voice answers. “Hello? Party Central.”

I was half expecting to get her voice mail, so I’m a little stunned when she picks up so quickly. “Hey, um, Taylor. It’s me. Natalie.”

"Natalie? Where are you guys. Are you going to bring that hot-ass man of yours over or not? You’re missing all the fun.” She sounds drunk—happy, but drunk. This could work to my advantage. If she’s that drunk, maybe I can talk to her about my demon issue and if she refuses to take me to Madame Zoë then I can pretend this conversation never happened. Drunk people are notorious forgetters. 

“We aren’t going to make it over tonight,” I say while I sit on the cold cement. “I was actually calling to ask you for a favor.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and I’m afraid she’s hung-up on me. “Taylor?”

She exhales nosily into the receiver. “What kind of favor?”

“Can you take me to see your grandmother? I really need to talk to her. It’s sort of an emergency.”

“Tonight?” Her tone starts to sound really put-out, and the phone gets some interference, like she’s walking around. 

“Well, yeah, if you can take me.” I pray she doesn’t ask me to explain myself. What could I tell her that wouldn’t already make me seem like a crazy freak? 

I hear a click of a door on Taylor’s end and her surroundings are suddenly very quiet like she’s locked herself in a room somewhere. “Is this about the demon thing?” My jaw nearly hits the ground. That was the last thing I ever expected to come out of her mouth. “Grandma told me you were a marked soul and that I should help you because she’s too weak to save you.”

“Save me?” Her words stun me. “You know about that?”

She lets out a sarcastic little laugh. “Yeah, I know lots of things that I wish I didn’t. You’re little problem with your soul is just one of them. This seeing the future and past thing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you know. Grandma said it’s a natural gift to see and that I should embrace it.”

"I never knew…” I’m bewildered and at a loss for words. 

“Of course you didn’t know. You think I want to go around telling everyone that I may be a bigger freak than Natalie Sugarman? Hardly. No offense.”

I sigh. “So, you’re going to help me then?”

“Maybe,” she says.

“Maybe?” I echo. “What do you mean maybe? I need to know what to do about this demon.”

“You mean Rick?” I swallow hard as she lets out a little laugh under her breath. She must be telling the truth if she knows that. It would’ve helped if she’d told me yesterday about this though. “I thought you finally came to terms with your fate and were getting used to being with him. I mean, come on, you threw Stewart Masterson away like a piece of trash when Rick came along.”

Me leave Stew? Taylor must not be too good of a fortune teller if she can’t see that Stew ditched me, not the other way around. She might just be saying that to get me to spill the beans, but I’m not biting into that. I know she likes Stew, and I’m not giving her any information that she could twist and use to get closer to him. “Whatever, Taylor. I don’t want to get into my relationship issues about Stewart with you. You wouldn’t understand, anyway. Can you just please tell me what to do about Rick? I have to get my soul back.”

“No.” I start to argue with her again and tell her maybe she should just take me to see her grandmother anyway, but she recovers quickly. “I mean, I don’t know off the top of my head. Grandma gave me a book to go through to help you, but I never looked at it because frankly, I didn’t think you needed any help. I thought you looked happy. But since you’re obviously not, I’ll take a look and then give you a call when I find something.”

Having a partner on my side in this demon deal makes me think there may be a chance to get my soul back. The only thing is I don’t know how longer I have. Who knows what he has planned next for me. But, I’m really in no position to argue with her. I’m positive that’d just piss her off and then she’d never help me. “Sounds good.” 

Finally after walking another hour, I round the bend to my neighborhood. The flats on my feet barely make a sound as I walk up the steps to my front door. My fingers shake from nerves as I pull my hand away from the protective cross-armed pose and suck a deep breath down my lungs. Air blows out through my pursed lips and I twist the knob. 

Locked. 

Damn it! Can nothing in my life go right? Reflexively, I search for my hip pocket, but tragically skirts don’t really have them and I didn’t really think about grabbing my purse during my escape. 

Where the hell is Mom?

“Why did I leave my purse?” I mutter to myself, defeated.

My fist bangs on the door, after multiple pushes on the unanswered doorbell. 

Still nothing.

I throw my head back and sigh. “Perfect. Can my life get any worse?”

The window in my second floor bedroom is typically unlocked, so I head around to the back of the house. Moonlight dances across the well-manicured lawn and shines on the love nest I’d shared with Stew. 

Assholes—human and demon guys alike.

The trellis leading to my window intimidates me tonight. It’s looks a million miles high. I reluctantly make my way over to it, unsure if I can muster one more ounce of energy to get up it. The sole of my right foot screams in pain as my leg quivers with exhaustion when I apply pressure to climb. Quickly, I jerk my foot down and peel off my shoes. Tiny blisters coat the soles of my feet.  Climbing the trellis to my room is out of the question. I just don’t have it in me to climb that high. 

Tired, depressed and numb, I turn toward the tree house, eyeing it with trepidation. Ugh. I don’t want to go in there, but I don’t seem to have a choice at the moment. It’s only five stairs high. A hell of a lot better than twelve feet of tiny lattice strips. I think my feet can bare it.  

Bare footed, I walk across my yard and let the cool, dewy grass soothe my throbbing feet. 

Painfully I make it up the five-foot ladder and get inside the tree house. The wood is rough under my fingers as I grab onto the floor and hoist myself inside. A beam of light blinds me, and my body stills. My heart jumps into my throat, and I think about jumping down to the ground to flee the scene. I am not alone. I take a deep breath and wait. 

Chapter Sixteen

“Natalie?” His voice trickles through the darkness. 

A white spot from the flashlight shining in my eyes speckles spots my vision until Stew lights a candle. “What are you doing up here?”

He shakes his wrist to put out the match. “Waiting for you.”

For a second I debate on taking my chances with the twelve foot lattice instead of bunking in the tree house tonight, but I’m too exhausted—both mentally and physically to make it much further. Stew stretches out his hand to help me inside. Reluctantly, I take it. His touch is warm and familiar, but his closeness irks me.   

“Why would you be waiting on me? We hate each other now,” I say as I sit as far away from him as I can on the comforters we once snuggled on. The dim light helps to hide my post tear-ridden face.

His brow furrows. “Why do you hate me?” 

Is he really that dumb? “You know why.”

I can’t face him. It just hurts too much. How can he not know why I would be so angry with him? 

I gaze around the tree house, and my stomach ties into a knot. I hate the memories this place holds. Those nights with Stew feel a million years ago even though he’s right next to me. 

Stew sighs. “Maybe that’s our problem. I really don’t know why you’re mad at me. After you threw your paintbrush at me, it’s obvious you think I did something to you. But I don’t understand why you get to be the one mad one here.” He waits for a response and when he doesn’t get it he huffs. “You know what? I’m sick of trying to forgive you, when you do nothing but bitch at me every time I try.”

My nostrils flare as I squeeze my hand into a tight fist and think about punching his face. “Forgive me? I can’t believe you have the balls to even talk to me after what you did.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything to you!” he growls.

“Oh, so I suppose you were being Mister Nice Guy when you stood me up at Morris Well’s party?”

He leans back in his elbows and tilts his head. “Stood you up? I didn’t stand you up.”

My eyes narrow and my heart pounds like a jack rabbit in my chest as I look at him. “Then where were you while Trevor Humphreys tried to rape me?” 

While his jaw hangs open, I run my fingers through my hair and turn away from him. I’m so done with this conversation and him. All I wanted was a little peace after what I’ve been through tonight. Not face down another one of my demons, so to speak. 

The weight of the day crashes down on me. Every part of my body shakes. I’m cracking. Right here in front of Stew. The last person I ever wanted to see me cry, but I can’t help it. No one soul should have to go through so much.  

Stew wraps his arms around me, and I don’t push him away. I don’t have the strength to fight against anything else. Tears fall from my eyes as everything hits me hard. 

“I’m going to kill him,” he growls.   

I don’t even realize I’m balling hysterically until he wipes away my tears and tries to calm me down. “I’m so sorry, Nat. Please. Look at me.” He turns my face to his and cradles it in his hands. “I didn’t stand you up at Morris’s party. I wanted to come—I swear—but I got into a major argument with my dad…over you. He took my keys and practically barricaded me in the house.”

That only makes me cry harder. “Why didn’t you call me, Stew?” I choke through the tears. “I wouldn’t have gone.”

"I couldn’t. Dad’s an asshole. Like I’ve told you, he’s crazy. He broke every phone in our house, including the cells when I told him you were my girlfriend. He forbid me to ever speak to you again. Dad said…”

“Said what?” I prompt him. 

He pulls away from me and takes my hand. “He said he’d kill me first. He’d rather see me dead than to be with you.”

I’m flabbergasted. “He wouldn’t actually kill you, Stew.” I squeeze his hand tight. “I’m sure he’s just being dramatic. I mean, I’m not that bad.”

“That’s what I thought too, until I pissed him off by saying I was going to be with you whether he liked it or not.” He twists away from me and pulls up his shirt. I gasp as I take in the site before my eyes. It’s like something you see in a movie. Thick red scars line the length of Stew’s back. It looks like he’s literally been beat within an inch of his life. My heart crushes. I can’t believe his own father would hurt him like this…over me. 

“Oh my God. Your dad did this?”

He nods and puts his shirt back down, taking the scars out of my line of sight. “Now do you understand why I needed to keep us a secret? He’s insane. For some reason, he’s got it in his head that you’re completely evil—that you can change me. Make me into some sort of monster. I swear to you, Nat. I had every intention of coming to that party, but I really thought he might kill me. You should have seen him. He completely flipped out. He’s never gotten that violent with me before. Sure, he’s hit me, but never beat me like he did. I couldn’t bear to hit him back. He’s my father for crying out loud, but I didn’t want to push him any further, so I didn’t try to leave. When Trevor stopped by to pick me up that night, I asked him to tell you what happened. I wanted you to know that I wanted to be there.”

I rub my forehead as tears flow from my eyes. “That’s how he knew.”

Stew nods. “Trevor lied to me.” His fists balled up in his lap. “I was pissed at you because he told me you and Rick where making out at the party, and when he tried to confront you about it, Rick beat him up. I heard all the rumors going around about the fight between Rick and Trevor, but I believed Trevor. He’s supposed to be my friend. I should’ve come to you for the truth. I never knew…I’ve been so crazy jealous over you guys—I’ve been a complete asshole. I understand if you hate me. But I swear to God, I will take care of Trevor. I’m so sorry, Nat.” 

As he gets choked up, I wrap him in a hug. “I forgive you.”

We cling to each other like we’d be lost if we let go—pulled apart forever. Desperate sobs flow between us. 

I bury my face into his solid chest. Leaving him will be so hard. Rick is out to take my soul and force me to leave everyone I’ve ever cared about. 

I kiss him through the tears. “I’m so sorry.”

He gives me a sad smile. 

We lie down and hold each other tight. The moment wrapped in silence. The only sound is two hearts beating in sync. Guilt washes over me for nearly sleeping with Rick as I lie in Stew’s arms. The pull I feel towards them both is crazy. When I’m close to one there’s always a pitting desire to get closer, which is crazy considering one of them is one hundred percent pure evil. 

Is it possible there was never really any connection to Rick at all, just merely the initial attraction followed by the false sense of security I felt around him? He knows everything about me, so it’s possible he just filled my head with exactly what I needed to hear. Whatever the cause, he’s still evil and the key to my salvation. 

I make a silent vow to get my soul back from Rick. There has to be a way, and I’m going to find it, even if that means killing him.   

Chapter Seventeen

The hallway is completely empty as I enter the building fifteen minutes before the start of my 8:00am class. I allow my fingers to run along the handle of the knife I threw in my bag last minute for protection. It’s silly, really, to carry it because I can’t over power him. He proved last night that in any form he takes on he can take me out if he wants. But the knife makes me feel a little better. Like I’m doing something to stay alive versus just cowering in my room all day and go along with whatever plan Rick has in store for me. 

My boots echo off the scuffed, white floors with each step I take. When I get to my first class I lay my bag on the desk and reach inside to grab my books. A perfectly folded note falls to the floor, landing near my right foot.  

Uneasy, I look around and then pick it up. I unfold the note after I clear the lump from my throat. My eyebrows rise in surprise. All it says is “Turn around.”