Page 53 of Beautiful Dark Temptation

“We need that coat!”

“I’m not going back in there!” I yelledback. “You go get it then.”

He considered that for two seconds. Ithought he was going to toss me out of the car before he cursed andstarted back into the street.

We took the 87 to Albany, making severalstops along the way. The roads were bad and Jack kept needing touse the bathroom. He’d come back jittery as fuck afterward. High asa rat on steroids. I took the wheel after the first stop.

“Take it easy on that stuff,” I finallysaid.

“Fuck off,” was his response.

I drove feeling slightly uncomfortable inthe tight space. I scratched my chin, my mind spinning withquestions. “Why did you have me act like a mule if you were able toget out of school and do it yourself?”

He chuckled. “Because I wouldn’t have beenable to getyouout. The Ark Boys have the Benjamins. Idon’t.”

It still didn’t answer why he had me be amule for him, but I didn’t push it. I was out of that school. It’swhat I wanted. Except now, I had to figure out what the hell I wasgoing to do, and that made me dependent on Jack, at least until Igot a hold of Nick.

I gave him a sideways glance, but he wasalready focused on the landscape. I didn’t know why it all feltoff, as if I were missing something important. No surprise there. Iignored the feeling.

He directed me into a neighborhood streetfull of dilapidated houses. A fresh powder of untouched snow madeit look as if the street were abandoned. No kids out makingsnowmen, no people shoveling. The little number of cars lining thecurb all looked abandoned.

“Turn into this one,” he said.

I turned into a short driveway leading to aframed house leaning as if it carried the weight of eternity on itsroof. The whole place looked sadder than where I lived at thetrailer park, and that hadn’t been great either.

The house had once been a light blue, now itwas splotched with something that looked like tar. The couple ofsteps to the front door looked as if a giant had pounded through.The windows were filthy, and the area littered with old brokenpieces of someone’s childhood. Plastic cars, balls, a rubber tireburied under the snow.

“What is this place?” I asked.

He laughed and shook his head. “We’re goingto crash here tonight.”

“Dude, we’d be safer crashing in the car, inthe middle of the road.”

“Not with those fuckers after you. Come on.Trust me.” He smirked and something in his eyes made my skin crawl.He leaned over, pulled the key out of the ignition, because it wasthat type of car, and got out. Using a set of keys, he opened thefront door and disappeared inside, leaving the door open forme.

Kieran’s words slammed into me. The studentsat Arcadia were killers. Within the boundaries lay protection.Outside, anything was game. And here I was with a student who waspossibly a killer, following him into some creepy abandonedneighborhood and an equally creepy abandoned house.

My fight or flight response kicked in toolate. Or maybe I was too drunk to feel it. Dad always warned methat one day my sense of curiosity was going to get me killed. I’dhear gunshots, and I’d be the first one to poke my head out thedoor to see who got shot. Two guys fighting in the park withknives, yup. I was there calling their stupid names to stop withthis shit and fight like men. I’d gotten my ass chased for thatone.

Thinking about being chased, I wondered ifKieran knew I was gone. If he cared at all. They had to be back bydawn. I looked at my watch. They had a few hours to make it. Thetime it’d take to get there from the bar. They were probablyspeeding there now. Left me behind. Because who cares about theidiot. I was just a pretty face. Good for nothing else.

I needed to stop living in my head.

Jack wanted me to trust him. Someone whowanted to kill you wouldn’t say that, right? And why would anyonewant to kill me? I was nobody. Not even my mother would care.Stupid. I was so stupid. “Get a grip,” I whispered and got out ofthe car. I sure as hell didn’t look like I belonged in thisneighborhood dressed like Kieran.

Once inside, the first thing I noticed wasthe smell. Even from the door, the stench made me queasy. I coveredmy nose. The walls were bare, the drywall shredded like torn flesh,revealing the bones underneath. Glazed with something sticky, thefloor creaked when I moved. Everything had a layer of dust, thebusted TV, the tattered sofa, the coffee table. The place soundeddead. No static hum from electricity. The little light in the placecame from the streetlamp outside.

The source of the smell made an appearancein the kitchen. A dead woman lay on the floor.

I hissed and threw my forearm over my mouthand nose, stumbling back, not wanting to get a better look butunable to look away. She’d landed face up, her eyes sunken. Aknotted bush of dirty blonde hair on top of her head, her skin hadmottled purple, a syringe sticking out of her thigh. I turned awaytoo late. I couldn’tunsee.

Jack stood close behind me, holding me inplace. “That’s my mother,” he said into my ear. “I wanted you tosee.”

He shoved me forward. “Fuck, Jack, what thefuck?” I shrugged out of his grip and stormed for the front door,slamming his shoulder on the way. Bile started to rise up to mythroat. I needed air. I pulled on the knob, but the door wouldn’topen. I planted my hand on the frame and my eyes made out thebrand-new lock. I needed a key. I tried it again and again. Itdidn’t even move.

I was screwed.

I started to turn when something slammedinto my head. Pain exploded down my neck, my spine, and I fell onall fours. My brain scrambled, my body spiraling.

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