What I had told Abram before, about not ever wanting to see him again, was all bluster. If I’d meant that, I would have called the cops by now—would have alerted the one sitting right beside me. Sure, no one would believe any of that magic nonsense, but they would listen if I told them a missing girl was chained up in the woods.
The only reason I hadn’t said something was because deep down I believed that girl was who Abram said she was. A witch in a woman’s clothing.
God, I was just a much as a liar as he was. Perhaps worse. He had kept things from me, true, but anyone could see why. But me? I hid things, too, and I lied. Mostly to myself, but still. Maybe we deserved each other. I certainly didn’t deserve Dalton. That was for sure.
Jimmy Fallon was halfway through a lip sync battle when I made my decision, or rather, accepted what I already knew.
If I needed to move on from Abram—and I wasn’t sure I did—I wouldn’t be able to until I had answers. And there was only one place where those could be found.
I would have to go back into those damn woods.
Chapter 17
I may have been in a rush to get answers, but I’d had enough nighttime treks into dangerous territory for one lifetime. I waited until the next morning, after Ester came to relieve me of my babysitting duties, to head back into the woods.
The path was almost second nature to me now. Unlike the last few times I hiked into these woods, though, I was prepared, and as such, the heels I usually wore had been replaced with sneakers. Underneath were thick socks to cushion the impact of walking on my still sore and battered feet.
And yes, the sneakers were still Coach, but who says a girl can’t rough it in style?
As I neared the old house, my heart raced. I thought about turning around, considered writing the events of the last few days off as nothing more than a fevered dream, of going on about my life as usual. Whatever that even was anymore. But what was the use? I had tried that already. I had attempted to do the quiet thing with Dalton, and all it did was make me feel even more out of place.
I needed this. I needed answers to my questions. Hell, I probably needed answers to questions I hadn’t even asked yet. I couldn’t ignore it any longer. My life was at risk, and if I didn’t find out how to fight back, anyone who even remotely resembled me would be in danger until I was found.
And Abram. Sigh.
I needed to make my peace with him as well. As much as I hated to admit it, in light of all that had happened, he and I had a connection. And it was more than physical. I found myself thinking about him all the time now. And that wasn’t okay. Not when there were still so many secrets between us.
The house loomed into view more quickly than it had the last few times, as if it was coming out to meet me. The building looked somehow colder and more haunting during the day beneath the overcast sky. As if daylight couldn’t reach this place if it tried.
The front door might as well have been a beckoning hand as it swung open of its own accord, and a lump rose in my throat. Did this house want me to come inside? Could houses want things?
Well, maybe this house could.
I fought back the urge to turn tail and run, and instead resolved to put on my big girl panties and get this over with. Either he would come off his lies and tell me the truth about what was going on, or he would hold firm to his ridiculous stories and prove how crazy he was.
But I think what I feared most of all was possible outcome number three: that all the lunacy Abram told me about actually was the truth.
I marched up to the open door with the same mixture of intensity and nervousness that a newbie model would display looking down her first cat walk.
As I crossed the threshold, the floorboards creaked under me. This was the third time I had entered this God-forsaken place, and with any luck, it would be the last.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” a voice groaned from beside me.
I turned to the voice. Abram hunched over on the floor, his face unshaven and his shirt a mess of careless stains. There was a bottle in his left hand, and the look on his face spoke of equal parts defeat and disgust.
“I’m nothing if not surprising,” I muttered, noticing how much he looked like he did that day I found him after The Castle had been ransacked. And where had that led us? I swallowed around the lump forming in my throat and tried to push the images from my mind. I’d come here for answers. Nothing more.
“I didn’t say you surprised me,” Abram answered, taking a swig from the bottle. “I caught your scent when you were a half a mile out. I just said I didn’t expect to see you, not after that performance yesterday.”
“It wasn’t a performance,” I said, leaning against the far wall.
Something about seeing him like this, obviously broken, made me want to go to him. And I was afraid that if I moved even an inch, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.
So I stayed plastered against the wall, as far away from him as the confines of this room would allow. “You said a lot of garbage yesterday, as if you actually expected me to believe it. How was I supposed to react?”
“With a little grace,” he answered, taking another swig and actually belching as he lowered the bottle.