The Haunted (21 page)

Everything pointed toward Laria’s involvement.

“
Riley, dinner is ready,” Miss Akin called from the kitchen.

I dreaded facing Shane, and even more, my dad. I was still angry with him about Edinburgh. He had a girlfriend. I knew that, and although Cheryl seemed like a nice lady, she wasn’t my mom and I felt a sense of betrayal that I couldn’t let go of. He could have told us about her before introducing her to us like she was just a co-worker.

Granted, I didn’t want my dad to be alone for the rest of his life…but the loss of my mom was still too new. Christ, couldn’t he at least wait until we were graduated and out of the house before he moved on? I could see it now—a marriage ensuing, Cheryl moving her son in—well, at least on holidays. And hey—why wouldn’t she send us off to boarding school if she shipped her own kid off to a different country?

I shook away the disturbing thought. God, I seriously hated my life.

Setting the book aside, I headed down the stairs. Wearing flannel pajama pants and a navy long john shirt, I walked down the hallway, and stopped short at the top of the stairs.

Cold air surrounded me, and I closed my eyes for a second and took a few steadying breaths. I hoped it was Peter. I missed the little shit; his sense of humor, and his companionship would be a welcome relief right about now. I wondered where he had been, or if it had just been me being lost in my own world, that I had closed off my abilities. In the books I’d read it talked about being blocked, especially during times of stress.

I was definitely stressed.

The front door opened and closed. Shane glanced up at me. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, kicking off his shoes.

“
I’m fine,” I said when I was shoved hard from behind.

Shane’s eyes widened, and I heard him yell my name a second before the whole world went black.

***

I heard a buzzing noise overhead, like the sound of halogen lights.

“
I just don’t understand,” I heard my dad say. “Shane, tell me again what happened?”

A sharp pain shot through my skull. The smell of antiseptic was strong, and my entire body was sore.

“
She was pushed,” Shane said. “One second she was standing at the top of the stairs, the next she was falling.”

“
That’s ridiculous.” Dad sounded agitated.

“
Whatever,” Shane said, his frustration obvious. “You weren’t there. I was.”

Leave it to Dad to think we’d brainstormed the whole episode. Seriously, I had other ways to get his attention rather than pitching myself down a flight of stairs.

“
Miss Akin mentioned that Riley has been having a tough couple of days,” a woman with an American accent said. “What can you tell me about that, Mr. Williams?”

I kept my eyes closed on purpose, waiting for the answer to that question.

“
Well…um, she seems to be fine.” I didn’t have to open my eyes to know Dad was staring at Shane, hoping he’d cough up information.

I held my breath and waited for Shane to spill.

He said nothing, no doubt enjoying Dad’s discomfort at being put on the spot. And as the silent seconds ticked by, it became blatantly obvious that he knew squat about what was going on in his own kids’ lives.

“
Isn’t that right, Shane?”

Shane grunted.

When silence fell over the group, I slowly opened my eyes. I was in a small room with white and green tile everywhere and a picture of a waterfall on the ceiling directly over the bed. Three faces looked down at me, each looking relieved in their own way. Shane gave me a glance, like he knew I’d been listening for a while. The doctor’s brows were furrowed in a straight line. Dad was the first to speak. “How are you, sweetheart?”

“
Okay,” I replied.

The doctor, a tall lady with graying hair and a young-looking face pushed her glasses up her nose. “What happened, exactly, Miss Williams?”

“
I was pushed down the stairs.”

Dad frowned. “Honey, there was no one in the house but you, your brother and Miss Akin, and neither of them were near you when the accident occurred.”

Shane crossed his arms over his chest and mouthed the word ‘asshole.’ I smiled inwardly. Yep, my brother was back, thank God. Problem was, Laria was making herself known in other ways.

Dad put a hand on my forehead. “I’m sure there’s a completely logical explanation.”

A nursing assistant walked in. “The x-rays are up.”

The doctor nodded and walked over to the laptop. A minute later she pulled up my scan. “The x-ray shows a mild sign of concussion. She should probably stay home from school for a few days.”

Dad nodded obediently, and scratched his chin. “Of course.”

“
If you two will step out of the room while I examine her…”

My dad shot to his feet. “Come on, Shane.”

“
We’ll be out in the waiting room,” Dad said, and I nodded.

The doctor took a seat on a stool next to the bed. “Hello, Riley. My name is Dr. Ronson.”

“
Hello.”

“
You took a nasty fall. Walk me through it, step by step.”

I had heard Shane explain what had happened to her just seconds before, but apparently she wanted to hear it from me. “I was standing at the top of the stairs when I must have lost my footing.”

She nodded, and wrote something down in the chart. “You’ll have more bruising tomorrow.”

She glanced up. “I noticed some scarring on your legs, sides and arms.”

I felt my cheeks turn hot. “They’re just scratches.”

“
They are pretty deep wounds to be scratches, Riley. In fact, one is bandaged.”

I shifted on the gurney, wishing I could get away from her intense stare. I just wanted to head home, go to bed, and forget about the past few days.

“
I am good friends with a counselor who might be able to help you.”

“
I don’t need any help.”

She pressed her lips together and wrote in the chart. “I need to say something to your father about the cuts.”

“
Please don’t. He has enough to worry about.”

“
You’re a minor.” She put a hand on my shoulder and smiled reassuringly. “There are other ways to deal with grief, Riley.”

“
Like medication?” I said, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “I’ve tried that. I’d rather not spend my life sleep-walking.”

“
There are support groups which have proved beneficial to many teens suffering from grief.”

I had no interest sitting in a circle with people as messed up as I was, sharing all the things that made our lives so depressing.

She spent the next fifteen minutes putting me through a series of tests. When she was finished, she grabbed the folder and brought it to her chest. “You’re a very lucky girl, Riley. I’m surprised you don’t have more symptoms. I want to see you back here next Monday.”

“
Okay.”

“
You’ll be okay. Time helps. I lost my mother when I was thirteen.”

I heard the word cancer and saw blackened lungs in my mind’s eye. “Cancer?”

The doctor nodded. “Yes, of the lungs. How did you know?”

“
I guessed,” I blurted, glad I wasn’t as blocked as I’d feared.

“
She was gone within three weeks of diagnosis, which is the main reason I became a doctor.” She shook her head, as though shaking away the memory. “Anyway, you will be better with time. I promise.”

The car ride home was sobering. My dad kept glancing over at me, his hands gripped tightly around the steering wheel. Shane stared out the window, his finger tapping in time to the music blaring from his iPod.

When we pulled into the driveway, Miss Akin was waiting at the door for us. Seeing her, I felt the urge to throw myself into her arms and cry my eyes out. Sometimes I think she was the only person on earth who understood me. The only person, aside from Shane, who really cared about me.

“
You’ll be fine, my dear,” she said, smoothing a hand over the back of my head. “Let’s get you to bed. You must be exhausted.”

Ten minutes later I was in bed, a warm blanket wrapped around my legs and Miss Akin spoon-feeding me chicken noodle soup. I wasn’t even hungry, but she insisted. “The doctor prescribed some pills for pain but you must have something in your stomach.”

My head hurt like hell, but the last thing I wanted to do was take a painkiller and get buzzed out of my mind. No need to make Laria’s crusade to kill me any easier. Miss A popped open the pill container, and handed me an oval white pill. “Here you go.” She handed me a glass of water, watched as I drank it, and then tucked me in.

I woke up once to find Shane sleeping on the floor beside my bed.

I smiled and rolled over. By the time morning came, he was gone and I could smell the familiar scent of sausage and eggs permeating from downstairs.

A few soft taps sounded at my door. “Come in, Miss A.”

“
It’s Dad.” He stepped into my room. Wearing his usual slacks and a white button-down shirt over a white T-shirt.

“
How do you feel?”

“
My head hurts a little, but I think I can go to school tomorrow.”

I hated that I couldn’t go today, knowing what everyone would think—that I had bailed because I was mortified by Kade and Dana.

“
I barely slept last night,” he said, taking a seat in the chair. His tense body language alone spoke volumes.

I sat up against the headboard, knowing exactly where the conversation was headed.

“
There’s no easy way for me to broach this subject, Riley…so I’ll just dive right in. Dr. Ronson asked me about the marks on your body. She said that it looked like you had cut yourself.”

I swallowed hard and I dropped my gaze to the floor between us. I had dreaded this conversation. As much as I’d like to deny it, I wouldn’t.

“
I searched the Internet last night reading about your disorder.”

My disorder?

“
There are inpatient programs available—places where you stay for six months or so…and are treated.”

So he was going to ship me off now? Panic seized me. “I don’t need a program.” If it weren’t for Laria constantly planting the razor blades in my room, I wouldn’t have gone looking for them.

His brows lifted. “You have a fresh cut on your elbow, Riley, as well as scratches on your back and arms.”

He leaned his elbows on his knees. “Make me understand this, Riley. What on earth would cause you to cut yourself?”

There were so many things, none of which he would ever understand, so I didn’t even want to waste my breath.

“
Dr. Ronson suggested you talk to a psychiatrist.”

My so-called psychiatric treatment back in Portland had nearly put me into a walking coma. I’d spent the better part of my day in bed, completely numb. “I don’t need a psychiatrist, Dad.”

“
You are cutting yourself on purpose.” The way he looked at me…as though I were damaged goods, made me sick. “You need a psychiatrist, Ri.”

“
I miss Mom,” I blurted. This was one of those times I needed to feel her arms around me, to have her pull me tight and reassure me that everything would be okay.

“
I miss her, too, Riley…but I don’t hurt myself, for God’s sake.”

No, he just replaced her with another woman.

“
I thought you liked it here. You have good friends. Miss Akin says you keep busy.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it, Riley.”

“
I don’t expect you to
get it
, Dad. You never lost your mom.”

“
No, but I lost my wife.”

“
I spent more time with her than you ever did.” I could barely believe I’d said the words.

Apparently Dad thought the same thing because his eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

“
You were never home. You live for your work. You always have and you always will.”

He shook his head. I had surprised him, and not in a good way. “I find comfort in work; there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“
What about finding comfort in your family? You have two kids who would give anything for you to care. We crave your attention.”

He pulled a tissue from his pocket and blew his nose. “I’m doing the best I can.”

“
Really?” I asked, my heart slamming against my chest wall. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re running away from your life and what family you do have left. The only time you talk to me or Shane is when you want to complain about something we’ve done.”

“
That’s not fair.”

Tears slipped from my eyes, and I didn’t bother to brush them away. “It’s the truth.”

“
I’ll be calling Dr. Ronson today,” he said, standing, signaling the conversation was over. As usual, he would rather run than face confrontation.

“
Don’t bother,” I said, getting out of bed and walking toward my closet.

“
Where do you think you’re going?”

I turned to him. “To school.” I wasn’t going to have people talking more shit about me.