Finishing my tea, I wondered when it would be Fern’s turn, or if January planned on keeping her weird little Red tucked away from our world forever.
Pondering why it’d taken me so long to notice the second tier’s daughter in the first place, flashes of that ass and her luscious mouth infiltrated.
The most devious of our kind always laid low, waiting for an opportune moment to attack.
The memory of her lips diving onto mine, the desperate twitching of her hands upon my cheeks, seared. Jumbled pieces attempted to click together, but they fell away before I could make sense of them.
Fern Denane made no sense to me at all.
I made to get up and search for those yearbooks, but I stilled at the bob of a shadow.
Without removing my eyes from the balcony across the hedge from mine, I reached for a white decorative pebble from the potted cacti behind me.
A soft glow emanated from behind her drapes. I wasn’t sure if she was awake, and I had no idea what time it was. Wanting to placate and reassure Marnie, I hadn’t so much as laid eyes on Red all week.
So I threw the rock at her doors.
Fern
A sharp clack upon the glass door had me dropping my diary into the top drawer of my nightstand and rising from the bed.
Opening the curtain, I discovered a shirtless male wrapped in moonlight and shadow across the hedge.
I gave my head a quick shake, sure I was dreaming. Had he not intentionally spilled coffee all over me and then tripped me in front of half the senior class?
No, I might have been obsessed, but I wasn’t stupid. Both those things definitely happened, and the message behind them was clear—stay away.
So when he curled his finger in his direction, beckoning for me to go to him, I immediately dropped the curtain.
It had to be another trick.
Then another tap sounded, louder this time, and I worried he might crack the glass if he didn’t stop it. Opening the door in my sleep shorts and a loose tank, I crossed my arms over my chest as if that’d solve the problem of being braless.
“Wanna play, Little Red?”
Leaning into the doorframe, I struggled to make out his expression in the dark and with the distance. “I’m not so sure I’m fond of your games, Judy.”
“Judy?” he said, aghast with a bark of laughter. His head tilted, green eyes piercing. “I dare you to come over here and call me that.”
“I’m good where I am.” Though I couldn’t deny the electricity that zapped my heart at the mere idea of stepping foot in his domain.
“Fern,” he said, soft and without that dark humor. “Come to me.”
My name had never sounded so good, and my breath froze at the velvet loaded demand. Toes scrunching over the door runner, I forced myself to stay where I was. “How do I know you won’t do something horrible again?” I didn’t know why I bothered asking after what he’d done, after he’d embarrassed me the way he had, but I did know I still wanted him.
I’d probably always want him.
Maybe I needed to let him mess with me enough to rid that desire.
“I guess you’ll just have to take a chance and see what happens.” He was grinning now, those perfect pearly whites flashing under the glow of the moon and stars.
If his actions hadn’t been enough, then those words said it all. He was playing with me.
I was the toy, and he was the spoiled brat.
Would he touch me reverently, or toss and discard me as soon as he was bored? I wasn’t sure why he was doing this; all I knew was I had his attention.
And as I stepped back inside, slipping my feet into my flip-flops before ducking back out and taking the stairs to the verandah below, I remembered how hot the shame of being his victim had felt.
It singed in a way that would leave a mark, but his actions also validated something I’d been curious about since that stolen kiss outside the dorms at school. I’d managed to crawl beneath his skin, and call me desperate—we already knew I was—but I’d much rather live there than not exist to him at all.
I’d found a gap to slip through in the hedge years ago near the rear of our yards.
The sound of the ocean grew closer as my flip-flops crushed the grass. I failed to remember the last time I’d wandered to the sand behind the low fence, hidden by birch trees and small dunes.
Before my father had left, he’d often take me to visit the ocean and build sandcastles with me. I vaguely remembered visiting on my own sometime after he’d gone, but I hadn’t been able to see through my tears long enough to build anything.
I could hear the lapping, the quiet hum of the sea that surrounded our entire world.
He was out there, somewhere, and perhaps looking at the water was a reminder of that.
Of the fact I remained in our high society fueled bubble while he’d found pastures far richer than anything money could buy.
Slipping through the break in the violently wrapped branches, I slunk into Jude’s backyard and almost tripped over a long-forgotten seesaw.
It squeaked, but I wasn’t worried about January discovering I was gone. She was notorious for drugging herself to sleep, and she wouldn’t wake until exactly seven hours after knocking herself out.
As though he’d watched me, Jude had left the French doors of his back porch open.
Stepping over a soccer ball and walking up the hedge-lined sandstone steps, all I could make out was a dark house. No tall boy with midnight hair and jewels for eyes.
He was nowhere to be seen, even when I quietly stepped inside and clicked the doors closed behind me.
My eyes, adjusted to the dark and with the help of the moon, took in every shadowed feature. The miniature museum the Delouxes called home was old money meets new furniture. Brown leather and rich burgundy rugs filled the large living area leading outside to the porch I’d just left. I soon encountered the kitchen, a monstrosity of marble and stainless steel.
Kicking off my flip-flops at the base of a winged staircase, I glanced around, knowing there were two sets in a house this large. I had no idea where the other was, nor where it would lead. Just as I had no idea where this one would take me.
Even so, I wrapped my hand around the cool wooden railing, the marble steps smooth from being abused by many feet. They narrowed in the center but fanned out at the top, where I stood on a landing and glanced around. Leafy plants in giant pots perched on either side of arched bay windows that overlooked the backyard.
An owl screeched outside. Every hair on my body began to rise. Maybe this was a trick, after all.
Then the sound of a hinge protesting broke the quiet, and I headed in that direction. A game of cat and mouse. Beast and bird. He wanted me to grow comfortable with his detachment. All the more satisfying when he was ready to pounce.
I couldn’t help but notice how bare the walls were, how even the smallest of homey touches failed to have a presence in this cold and empty house.
Only, it wasn’t empty.
I crept by a cracked open door. A faint light shone inside, and I knew the room belonged to Henry, Jude’s little brother. I also knew his dad wasn’t home, that he hadn’t been home in days, or else I might have reconsidered this lunacy.
Who was I kidding? I’d absolutely still be here, chasing a poltergeist intent on mocking me.
A sexy as fuck poltergeist, I thought, coming to a dead stop when I rounded the corner to find Jude leaning in the doorway to what I guessed had to be his bedroom.