Page 35 of Entangled

“Sure, Blondie.” His lips pull up into a soft, reassuring smile. “Whatever you need.”

We set out then, combing through our assigned sides, pulling out drawers and shuffling through the filing cabinets. Trying to find anything that would provide a clue or answer as to what caused a seemingly sane man to snap. I open a filing cabinet and find a stack of invoices from a private detective. Quickly leafing through them and sighing in defeat when I come to the conclusion that they were all for his clients. I still snap a picture of one with the plan to follow up though. Hoping that maybe whoever this is might be able to shed some light. After an hour though, Jace and I are forced to stop when it’s obvious there’s nothing to be found here besides random bits leftover from my father’s legal practice.

There’s no avoiding it now. I have to face their room. See if it holds any answers. I bring my eyes up to where he stands across from me, both of us silent as we try to avoid the inevitable for a few seconds longer.

You can do this, El. After last summer… you can survive anything.

I lift my head, reminding myself of that fact over and over again as I speak. “Upstairs, then?”

He nods silently and I take that first step to leave the office.

I walk without really seeing, through the hallway, out of the kitchen, the staircase coming too quickly. My body screams for me to leave as I take that first step up, misplaced adrenaline flooding my veins the higher I climb. By the time I make it to the top, my hands are shaking at my sides, somewhere between tingling and numb. A long hallway stretches out before me, two doors on my left, one on my right, and a lone door sitting at the end.

The lone door that I know leads to my parents’ room.

You can practically feel it. The sorrow and agony leaking from the door palpable, as if it’s slowly winding tendrils of misery out toward us. Curious as to who’s come to disturb its peace. I press my lips together as tight as I can to quell the whimper trying to escape.

You can do this. Youwillsurvive this.

Jace glances at the first door to my left. “Do you want to—” He pauses, clearing his throat awkwardly. “I mean, one of them is yours. Do you want to see it?”

I shake my head jerkily and loosen my lips. “No.” I exhale a deep breath. “No, let’s just get this over with.”

As I walk toward their bedroom door, a blessed numbness begins to dampen my hypervigilance to something more manageable. My mind shutting down partially to save itself now that it knows there is no escaping this reality. I pause when I get to the door before reaching out to grab the brass knob, turning it and pushing open the door without stepping in.

The sight that greets me is nothing like what I expected. I guess some part of me had expected there to be remnants of what had happened that night still here. But as my eyes scan the room I see that the space is spotless. No bloodstains mar the wood floors. No splatter across the yellow walls. Yvie and Grams must have hired someone really good to come clean it up for there to be this little evidence left behind. I feel a hint of the tension locking my body up fade at the realization and rally enough to step into the room.

Jace follows me over the threshold and once again we stop once we’re inside the room, neither of us speaking as we take in the malignant space. Something is off though… I dart my eyes around, trying to figure out what’s setting off my senses. The bed is stripped bare, nothing but a four-poster bed frame left to show where they once slept but that’s not entirely surprising. Everything else seems to be innocuously in order though, so what…

I breathe in again and it hits me.

There. Underneath the layers of must, the smell of dust and decay, is bleach. So incredibly faint that you have to breathe deep to pick it up. But with the way I’m trying to keep my breathing steady, trying to take deep, calming breaths… it’s undoubtedly there.

Oh my god. It’s bleach. My chest heaves rapidly at the realization. It’s from the cleaner. It’s what they used to…

I can’t keep the whimper from escaping this time.

Jace is in front of me in an instant, threading his fingers through mine, his eyes flicking back and forth between mine as if he’s not sure which one will tell him the truth of my current mental state.

Uh, that would be fucking disastrous.

His forehead creases in concern as if he heard the thought run through my head. “Do you want to leave?”

I consider it for a moment. I really do.

I could leave this place and never come back. Never have to face the horrible reality of what happened here. I might even be better off for it.

But… fuck.

I just need some kind of closure. I need for something in my life to make sense after last summer. And since I can’t solve that…

“No,” I finally tell him, my voice coming out rough. “But could you—” The words catch in my throat and I swallow down that horrible feeling of tightness. “Do you think you could take the bedroom and I’ll take the bathroom and closet?”

“Of course.”

I slowly unwind my fingers from his, hating that I hate to do it, to lose that anchor he is.

Our fingers gently brush one another’s as I start to walk toward the door on the left side of the bed frame. I open the door and see that it’s pretty much a standard master bath setup, the only thing standing out is the gorgeous claw-foot tub that’s all-white porcelain with intricately curved feet.

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