Taken by the Beast

Something about fixing up The Castle, about molding it into the sort of place that might have been successful under different circumstances, made me feel better. It was like building this place up built myself up, too. Maybe that was why I was where I was now. Maybe it was this piece of confidence, this accomplishment, which gave me what I needed to let Abram in.

 

I sighed, breathing in the smell of drying paint. Abram was still here, his scent wafting long after he had left. Every muscle in my body relaxed. For the first time since returning to New Haven, I was at peace.

 

Moving toward one of the windows, I closed my eyes and let the light of the fading evening sun tingle against my skin. A murmuring tickled at my ears, and at first I thought I just imagined it. But then the sound came again like a soft call, whispering my name.

 

“Chaaarriiiissse.”

 

Without moving, without flinching, I knew where it came from. I had heard that noise before, singing from behind the painted moon door downstairs.

 

Before I registered what was happening, I was downstairs, across the main floor, and down the hall leading to the back room. And, though I had no memory of picking it up, I found a crow bar in my hand.

 

Did I even know where Abram kept his tools?

 

I stood in front of the door, the voice singing my name to me again.

 

“Chaaarriiissse. Chaaarriiissse.”

 

Last time I’d tried to open the door, I’d ended up with burns on my palms. Now the crow bar was heating to match it. I didn’t let go, though. I couldn’t. Besides, the heat didn’t hurt this time. There was no pain, nothing more than the sensation of warmth. It was almost inviting.

 

I found the crow bar pulling back in my hands, which were now raised over my head. I could feel the bar being pulled back and then toward the door. It slammed hard against the painted moon, which had begun to glow red.

 

“Aaaaggaaiiiinnn,” the voice sang after the bar shook against the door.

 

My arms sprang into action again, pulling behind my head. But my phone dinged loudly, indicating I had a text.

 

Something jarred inside my head, and a crow bar fell from my hands.

 

Why was I holding a crow bar? Why was I standing in front of this creepy door?

 

Shaking the fog from my mind, I looked down at my phone.

 

The text read: Dinner tonight?

 

It was from Dalton. Oh no. I hadn’t made him any promises. I hadn’t even kissed him, unless you counted a hot peck on the ear. But there was no denying something was going on between us. He had even called me ‘his girl’; a definition I hadn’t rebuffed.

 

And now here I was, planning morning-after breakfast with my boss while this man was waiting on me for dinner, sending me texts with cute smiley emoticons and being an all-around standup guy, oblivious to what a shitty person I was.

 

I wasn’t a cheater, exactly. Was I? If not, I was still too close for comfort. I couldn’t let this go on. Dalton deserved better than this. He had been nothing but amazing to me. Not to mention we had grown up together and he was my best friend’s baby brother.

 

This was getting complicated.

 

But complicated didn’t change facts, and the fact was I wasn’t attracted to Dalton, not in the same way I was attracted to Abram. And maybe I had always known that. Maybe running from my growing feelings for Abram was part of the reason I threw in with Dalton so quickly.

 

That wasn’t fair to him, but there was nothing I could do about the past. And now that I knew, not telling him right away would be even worse. I needed to nip this thing in the bud and deal with whatever fallout came from it.

 

I shot him a text.

 

Hey. Can we talk? Meet me at the diner? —Char

 

I could have broken it off with him via text. God knew it would be easier for me that way. But that would be impersonal and, as Abram had said, a letter didn’t seem like enough.

 

Begrudgingly, I slipped my shoes on. I used to love my shoes, but lately, with my feet still sore, wearing them felt like a punishment. Maybe one I deserved at the moment. I sighed as I stuffed my phone back into my pocket. After locking up The Castle behind me, I ascended the stairs, not wanting to do what I knew I had to.

 

The sun was almost gone from the sky, tinting the clouds red and orange and elongating all the shadows. It would be dark soon, and with that damn sexist curfew in effect, I wasn’t legally allowed to be on the streets right now. But since I didn’t give a warmed-over damn about that, I kept toward the diner.

 

I was about halfway there when the unnerving thought struck me: I hadn’t been outside and alone in the dark since that night. The monsters surged to the forefront of my mind. I still hadn’t told anyone about what really happened, and since I didn’t fancy being fitted for a strait jacket, it was going to stay that way. Besides, it had probably only been shadows playing tricks. They were dogs … or something …

 

Dogs with glowing yellow eyes. Dogs that stood straight up like men.

 

I shook my head, passing by an entrance to those large and encompassing woods.

 

I didn’t want to look at them, not after everything that had happened. But something caught my eye.

 

A man was wandering into the woods. And not just any man. I knew that back. I knew those arms. I knew that ridiculously tight ass.

 

It was Abram.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 12

 

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