Ghostly (Darkly Devoted Book 1) (6 page)

“I have an idea.” I brushed past him and into the living room, straightening my clothes as I went.

The room was a mess, as if a tornado had come through. No one was in sight; they had all apparently fled from the scene and left me to deal with it. I had no idea what had happened and really I hated to know.

“You are going to clean up this mess and then go to your room, do you understand me? You’re not having anyone else over if you can’t be the mature adult that you claim to be. You might as well cancel any plans you had for Halloween.”

“Dad!”

“Don’t even try to change my mind. This is outrageous.” He kicked the Ouija board and stomped off in the other direction.

I didn’t move until I heard his bedroom door slam. My legs gave out underneath me as the reality of the night set in. What a dangerous situation I had put myself in by going into that closet. What a dangerous situation I had put everyone else in by inviting them into the house. I remembered the screaming and yelling. Tears rose up in my eyes and ran down my cheeks as I crumpled to the floor.

Chapter Eight

I locked my bedroom door and went over to where I’d hidden a pile of possible necessities, ones I had tried so hard not to use. Pushing my closet door open, I rummaged through my shit until I found my old backpack. It was time. I was empty and it was time to do what I knew I had to. There were no other choices left. My one last safe place was being taken from me.

There was nothing left.

“No…” I whimpered.

The hands that reached into the bag and retrieved a long rope weren’t mine.

“Briar…” someone whispered from far away.

The rope was scratchy as I wrapped it around my throat.

Something cold grabbed me and pulled me from my nightmare.

I screamed.

My eyes flew open as I was yanked from the nightmare. Cade stood over me with a serious look playing over his face. His hand covered my mouth, encouraging me to be quiet.

“Don’t scream again.”

I grabbed his hand and tried to pry it from my face, so I could breathe. My heart raced in my chest so hard it was painful.

That was it.
He’s going to kill me.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said and reached for my hands to stop me from attacking him. He crawled up on top of me and placed his knees on either side of my waist. His free hand grabbed my hands and moved them over my head, pressing them to the pillow.

I continued to struggle under him, trying to buck him off me as I raised my hips off the bed, desperately trying to get away from him so I could scream. Run. Get away.

“Can you please stop screaming? You were having a nightmare.” He leaned down and moved his hand enough to kiss me, swallowing my screams down his throat. He pulled back from me and put his hand back over my mouth. He laughed. “Are you done?”

I stopped struggling for a minute and looked up at him. His mouth twisted into a big boyish smile as he gazed down at me and laughed.
This isn’t funny.
I furrowed my eyebrows and reminded myself that I just woke up from a dream. Maybe I was just blaming him for feelings the dream had surfaced.

I nodded.

He removed his hand from my mouth. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have already.”

“You’re insane.”

“You have no idea.” He laughed and then grew serious again. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Obviously, now get off me.”

He obliged and sat back on the bed beside me. 

“Do you want to listen to some music or something?”
Might be less awkward.

“Sure.”

He stood up from the bed and went over to where my phone sat on the desk. After pushing a few buttons, I heard the rough voice of Andy Biersack of Black Veil Brides. I loved him. As if he knew that, Cade smiled at me.

“You like them too?”

“Yeah, they’re awesome. Just recently discovered them,” he said and returned to sit beside me. He pulled his legs up to him and crossed them.

“Where have you been for the last few years? They have been around.”

“Just got into some new music recently. It’s like I’m a whole new person now.”

“Is that so?” I asked.

Cade reached out to take one of my hands. I didn’t stop him.

“Where did you go last night? When we were in the closet?” I asked. I hated being so paranoid but things had been so weird lately.

“I know this house
very
well.” He looked up from our hands to my eyes. “There are all sorts of nooks and crannies that no one knows about. That’s really how I got into your basement. I don’t really have a key. That was the one to my house.”

“Maybe you can show me about those secret entrances and exits sometimes.”

“Um, probably not.”

“Why not?” I jerked my hand from his.

“Because this house can be dangerous.” He brushed my leg with his hand, pushing the fabric of my oversized shirt up. I gasped at the coldness of his touch and remembered our time in the closet. I wanted him automatically, but he frowned.

“Hey, what was that on your leg?” His voice was worried, which surprised me.

“Nothing,” I spat and pushed down my shirt.

I knew exactly what he had seen, my battle scars, and I didn’t want him to see them again. They were my secret and no one in town knew about them so far. I wasn’t like that anymore. At least, I was trying hard not to be. Sometimes I missed it though. Missed having a way to get rid of the pain.

“It’s
not
nothing,” he insisted and grabbed for my leg again. “When did you do that?”

I moved away from him and wrapped my arms around myself. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“I know what those are, Briar, I’m not stupid.”

“You could never understand,” I insisted.

“I could, if you would tell me.”

I shook my head. “No way. I don’t even know you, and still you come up in this house and try to have things your way.”

“I’m sorry.” He dropped his head in sadness. “Maybe we can start somewhere else?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been a long time since someone has come around that I’ve wanted to spend time with. I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Well, I’m not interested.”

He nodded. “I can take it slow.” Even though he tried to hide it, I could see the twinkle in his eye that made my stomach flutter. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Black.”

“Obviously.” He grinned. “What else?”

“Purple, I guess.”

“Why’d you move here?”

“That’s a long story…”

Cade shrugged. “I’ve got time.”

“My parents got a divorce about six months ago then my mom died. After that, I stayed with my grandmother but decided to move here to help take care of my brother.”

“Your dad couldn’t do that?”

“Yeah, probably, but he’s got issues with everything that’s happened.”

“Don’t we all?”

I sighed. “What about you? You seem to have it all together.”

He laughed. “It’s just a façade. I’ve done some fucked up shit in my life. Nothing to brag about.”

“Like what? I bet I’ve done worse.”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got a nasty temper.” He smiled wickedly.

“I’m not scared of you.”

He leaned in closer to me, and I could feel the same passion I’d felt in the closet tingle in my stomach. “I’m not the one you should be afraid of.”

My mouth suddenly went dry as I pulled back from him. “Then who should I be afraid of?”

With a shrug, he sat back. “You wanna bet on who is crazier?”

“Yeah.”

“And if you win?”

“You leave me alone about my scars.”

“Deal. If I win, you have to tell me about your past.”

He held out his hand and waited for me to make a decision. As much as I wanted to tell him no deal, I enjoyed having him there. I hadn’t felt able to open up to anyone else that I’d met so far. Whatever was between us seemed normal and easy, or maybe I was just going insane in the house.

“Deal.” I shook his hand, and he squeezed it tightly before placing it on his leg.

He started. “I’ve drank underage.”

“So have I. I’ve smoked pot.”

“Me too. I’ve stolen random stuff.”

“Cade, that’s shitty!”

He shrugged. “Well, you wanted the truth!”

“I’ve snuck out at night.”

Cade moved closer to me and leaned in to whisper close to my ear. “I’ve had sex. Lots and lots of sex.”

My face flamed a bright red. “So? I have too.”

“Just thought you should know. When did you cut yourself last?”

“It’s been at least two months.”

“I’ll never understand it. Why’d you do it?”

“When I was a freshman, I survived a school shooting. That was the first time.”

His head snapped up to look at me and something unreadable passed behind his eyes. “Really?” At first he sounded intrigued, then his voice changed to concerned. “I mean, that’s terrible, what happened?”

What a weirdo.

I looked away from him. Opening up to anyone was a risk. Heartache was soon to follow that sort of thing.

“Come on, you can talk to me.”

I shook my head and sighed. Hadn’t I talked enough about my past enough with my therapist to feel better talking about it to other people? Shouldn’t all that hard work warrant talking to someone who seemed to care and try to build up trust? It might be helpful to have someone close by, at least have one person around that understood me.

“It’s…it’s kind of hard to talk about.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and shook my head. “This boy was picked on pretty bad.”

“Yeah? Who picked on him?”

“My boyfriend at the time. He was an ass.”

He seemed shocked. “I would’ve never thought you’d date someone like that.”

“Sometimes you don’t really know someone until you’re with them and, well, that was how it was.”

“So, what happened?”

“I was sitting with my boyfriend in class, waiting for it to start when he walked in.”

“Holy shit. How did you get out?”

I shrugged. “Luck I guess?”

“I don’t believe in luck. Everything happens for a reason. Tell me what happened.”

Reaching down, I fiddled with the edge of my shirt. “He just walked in and shot the teacher.” The sound of a gun going off echoed in my mind, and I closed my eyes to block it out. I could still picture it clearly in my head.

“What happened then?”

My eyebrows came together in concentration as I recalled the memory. “When he turned on the students, the history teacher next door came in and tackled him.”

“So, he didn’t get your boyfriend?”

“No…but he killed a few kids wandering in the halls before he got to my classroom.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, and it was all my fault.”

“Why? It’s not like you did it.”

“No, but I didn’t stop my boyfriend from bullying him. And that kid was
so
smart. He was just odd and didn’t really fit in.”

“That’s not your fault.” He took my face in his hands. “All that is on him. On both of them. You couldn’t have known what would happen.”

“Maybe not…but I see looking back that it was wrong and I should have said
something
to
someone
.” I looked up at him. “Doesn’t that make me somewhat responsible?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve done some pretty fucked up things when I was messed up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…but you have to leave the past in the past, ya know?”

“I guess…I try to leave it all behind me and not react like I used to…I tried a lot of stuff after the shooting while I was trying to recover. I didn’t know what to do, other than look for a high or cut.”

“What did you do?”

“Long story short? We moved into a different town, and my parents forced me into therapy.”

“Did it help?”

“A little I guess. I’ve been able to ward off the nightmares for the most part.”

“That sucks. High school wasn’t great for me either, but nothing like that ever happened.”

“Did you go here?”

“Yeah, for my senior year and first year of college.”

“That’s cool I guess…”

“So, why did you end up cutting again?”

The question seemed to come out of nowhere.

“I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”
That
was a fresh wound in my heart, one that hadn’t scabbed over yet.

“I know how you feel. You can trust me. I’ve been there, but you probably wouldn’t have agreed with my solution.”

That piqued my attention. “And what was your solution?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now. Let’s just say that you wouldn’t approve. Right now, I’m worried about you.”

Don’t fall for that Briar,
I begged myself.
You are smarter than this. He’s just trying to get in your head. Remember, no boys. Boys just cause trouble.

“Well, if you can’t tell me about you, then I’m not telling you anything else about me.”

“Oh, come on, we can’t dwell on the past forever.”

I eyed him suspiciously.

“Briar, I know what it’s like to drown yourself in something. I’d get high and do all sorts of crazy shit because—”

“It made the pain go away.” I finished his sentence. I understood that part, but I just wished he would tell me what he did to cope. Maybe it was something I could try. Drugs were off the table because they didn’t really do anything but get me into trouble. They didn’t help my mother either when she used them for the same reason.