Page 33 of Deviant

Not wanting him to worry, I sent off a text that I was okay and would be back before dark, then I shut off my phone, stuck the key into the lock, and turned. My heart thumped out of tune as the lock clicked over, and the door swooshed open.

Over a year had passed since I’d set foot in this house. The memories rushed me all at once, like a flood of sorrow I couldn’t block. In the silent, dim foyer, I sank to the floor, depleted of strength, and drew my knees to my chest. As I envisioned Mom coming down the main staircase, her dark hair pulled back in an up-do that some would call regal, I ignored the pain leaking from my eyes as the past confronted me.

I was wrong.

I thought I’d been in control, the one in the driver’s seat as I careened down the road to my past. A girl on the offensive, armed with determination and enough ferocity to confront the ghosts that still haunted me in this place.

But the past beat me to the battlefield. The fucking past had set off the first bomb, and now I found myself hunched down in the destruction. My chest squeezed, and despite going through several rounds of breathing exercises, I still couldn’t pull in a full breath.

Rafe was right. I shouldn’t have come. Not now, and certainly not alone. Before I could talk myself out of it, I reached for my phone and called him. He didn’t let me get a word in before he started going off on me.

“I’ve been so fucking worried! Do you have any idea how much trouble—?”

“I need you.”

Three simple words, strung together with haunting sorrow and desperation. With a pathetic twinge of weakness.

His breath hitched over the line. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this.” A sob burst from my throat. “I thought I could face him. I thought I needed to.”

“What did that fucker do to you?” he practically shouted the question.

“Nothing. He’s not here. I used my key to get in.” Darting my gaze around the front entrance, I took in the family photos on the wall—a warped illusion of joy and togetherness from when I was younger. From when my mom’s jasmine scent and her laughter filled the space between these walls. Now, the emptiness of the estate, and the coldness despite the ninety degree weather, hit me where it hurt the most. This house wasn’t a home.

“It’s just me. I’m so alone.”

“You’re not alone. I’m here.” But his voice was tight with fear, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing—how reckless I’d been by coming here. My dad was a dangerous man, and if he didn’t pose a big enough threat, Zach did.

No one knew where he’d gone. He could pop up at any moment, and here I was sitting alone and unprotected and bawling like a baby in the place where we’d grown up together. For all I knew, he could be lurking in the shadows.

I gulped at the thought.

“Rafe, I’m scared.”

“I want you to get the hell out of there as fast as you can. Do you understand me?” He was afraid for me—I heard it in the shakiness of his voice. And I’d left him helpless to help me.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be sorry. Just get your goddamn ass out of that house!” His voice cracked. “Please, baby. For once in your life, do what I tell you to do.”

“Okay.” I rose on trembling legs and reached for the knob, hand shaking as I pushed the door open.

A tall silhouette ate up the sunlight filtering onto the porch. My knuckles went white around my cell.

“Alexandra?”

Raising my eyes, I let the phone drop to my side as I came face-to-face with the monster who raised me.

15. My Old Friend Fear - Rafe

Three beeps. Three innocuous tones. Three insignificant sounds that indicated a dropped call. They slammed into my chest, knocking the air from my lungs, stealing the strength from my legs. I collapsed into the chair in the living room and hit the callback button, but Alex’s cell went straight to voicemail.

I’d known it would.

Just as I knew she was in trouble, and there wasn’t shit I could do about it, stuck out here in the woods without transportation, because she’d made sure of it.

A shiver went through me as I recalled the last word she’d spoken before those dreaded three beeps.

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