So, we strolled up Church Boulevard, named for the eight houses of worship that line the single avenue that runs parallel to Main Street. As a kid, I walked that road and prayed to every god from every religion to make my father go away. Just vanish. That I’d go home, and he would gone, and my pain would end. But that never happened, obviously. He was always there. Waiting. Angry. Bitter. Ready to strike. Made me rethink the whole God thing, because I couldn’t understand why He allowed someone as evil as Billy Ellis to live. Never made sense to me.
That leaves only two places left on this tour. My old house and Apple Grove Park.
The latter I’ve been saving for last.
The former I was hoping to avoid completely.
Wraith places a finger under my chin. “Ready?”
“No, but I can’t avoid it forever.”
“That house isn’t home, Jamie. It’s a shell. Home is where you make it. Sooner you see that, sooner you’ll find peace.”
I nod, but I don’t believe him. That place will always be home because it’s where I bled. Where a piece of me died. Where I left my soul the day I had to kill my father so he wouldn’t rape me.
But I let Wraith tug me along toward his truck. I’m in a daze when he helps me climb in the Raptor. I stare out the windshield as he drives us through town, but I know the way. If I blindfolded, I could walk it, every step without missing a beat. Every turn and crack in the cement has dug itself into my memory, and when we turn onto Vine Street, sweat beads on my upper lip. My heart races until I have to place a hand over my chest to keep my heart from cracking my sternum.
We stop in front of a cozy yellow house. It’s almost unrecognizable, with its manicured lawn and flower boxes beneath the windows. It’s neat and pretty, and not at all how it was when I lived here. When it was a house of horrors where nothing pretty thrived.
And when I hear laughter—laughter—drifting out from the open windows, I hiccup on a dry sob. “Drive away.”
“Jamie.”
I nail Wraith with a glare. “Drive away.Please.”
He wants to argue. I see it on his face, but he keeps his mouth shut and hits the gas. “Home?”
“No. Take me to Apple Grove. It’s the last stop on Jamie’s Magical Mystery Tour.”
Wraith drives us back the way we came, and the farther we get from the house, the easier it is for me to breathe. Until it no longer hurts to pull air into my lugs. Then we’re on Main Street, passing the red-light district. I see Devil’s Den and wonder if Ava’s working. I think about Tempest, and where she might have wandered off to last night. If she’s still at Sanctum, or if everyone sobered up and left. I’m unsure how these things work, but I figure I’ll eventually find out now that I’m with Wraith.
With Wraith.
For how long?
Not long, I suppose.
Because time is ticking and I’m running out of tomorrows.
Wraith takes a left and we’re in Apple Grove, and the tension lifts. Soon as he parks, I’m out of the car. My boots come off, and my toes sink in the cold grass. I roll up my pants as far as they’ll go and plunge my feet in the icy water. He’s watching me as I press my hands on the side of the cliff. My ritual. But the little girl is quiet today. I lay my cheek to the stone. Still quiet.
As silent as the dead.
“You need to talk about it, Jamie.”
I push away from the mountain. “I do not.”
“Yeah, you do.” He comes to stand at the edge of the water. “It’s poison festering in you.”
I blink down at his extended hand, then shift my gaze to his face, my chin at a stubborn tilt. The wall comes up on its own. I stomp out of the water and yank my pant legs down. “You want all the dirty details, Wraith? Will that make us equal?”
“This isn’t a competition. It’s about you getting it off your soul.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “What, like a sage burning or a good conversation will take away how he would cut me with steak knives for no reason? Or how about when he got bored during commercial breaks and would call me in the living room to ridicule me until his show came back on? I used to catch him looking at me, sizing me up like I was some random in a bar and not his goddamn daughter. Or maybe it’ll cleanse my soul if you know how I’d lie in bed at night, scared to death he was going to rape me while at that very same moment, some another girl was out there probably losing her virginity to you?”
I brush past him and sit at the picnic table and yank on my socks, then my boots. Wraith stays glued to the spot, but he turns to watch me, his jaw clenched. Teeth locked. His eyes are hard, his expression lethal.
“No, Jamie,” he finally says, his voice an arctic blast that sends a chill shivering up my spine. “I don’t want to know these things because it makes me want to dig up the scumbag and kill him all over again like I should have done back when we were kids. But it’s fucking you up. Like what Crane did to me is fucking me up.”
