Page 36 of Entangled

Shame. I used to like claw-foot tubs before today.

I start to search the space, once again pulling open cabinets and opening drawers. It doesn’t take me long to realize there’s nothing to be found here either. Not unless you’re interested in secrets of whether she was born with it or not from Maybelline eighteen years ago. I sigh in defeat and walk toward the closet door, opening it up and flipping the light for the switch beside the doorway. Harsh light floods the dark space and I take in the collection of my father’s suits on the left and my mother’s assortments of dresses and shirts on the right.

Perfectly ordinary. Everything in this house is just so perfectly fucking picturesque.

I begin to frustratedly work my way through the clothes, starting with my father’s and digging through all of his suit and pants pockets. Finding a few random business cards that I slide into the back pocket of my skinny jeans just in case. I stick my hand into all of his shoes and thoroughly dig through his socks despite the fact that it gives me the heebie-jeebies. But I’m not a newb at hiding places and I know where I kept my loot back in the day when I still had to hide it from Yvie. Finding nothing more on my father’s side, I turn to my mothers and start the whole process over again.

I make it through her clothes and kneel down to start going through her shoes when I see something that makes me pause. All of her shoes are resting neatly on shoe racks running the length of the floor below her clothes, the racks staggered two deep. Except for four pairs of heels that sit slightly higher than the rest toward the back. I pull out the shoe rack in front of them and my eyes land on a large black wooden box, the gold keyhole at the front staring out at me tauntingly. I sweep the heels off the top of the box and pull it out, the heaviness of it surprising me. My palms are sweaty with anticipation as I try to pry the lid open but it won’t budge.

Of course the fucking thing is locked.

“Jace!” I call out, hearing him head my way immediately. “Any chance you found a key out there?”

“What? No. Why—” He cuts himself off as he steps into the closet and sees me, eyes zeroing in on what I hold in my hands.

“Shit,” I mutter. “I guess we could take it back—”

“Hold on.” He shakes his head, disappearing back out of the closet door.

I hear him opening up drawers in the bathroom and riffling through them for a moment before he walks back in, holding up a couple bobby pins to me in victory.

“Scoot over.” He nudges me slightly to the side and drops down in front of the box, taking the bobby pins to the lock and finagling it.

I eye him next to me in surprise. “You can pick a lock?”

“Some locks.”

“Where’d you learn that?”

“That, Blondie.” He grins in victory when the lock turns with an audible snick. “Is a story for another day.”

“You seem to have a lot of those.”

“All in good time.” He slides the box over to me.

I reach out to flip the top, nerves racing through me. Unsure of what, if anything, I’ll find inside. But the sight that greets me is just as unexpected as the rest of this house. Row after row of black, leather-bound journals lie inside. There must be around twenty of them in total. I reach out and snag one at random, too keyed up to even hesitate or think twice about it.

I flip open the journal and a harsh breath leaves me at the sight of line upon line of messy handwriting. “Holy shit.”

“Are those…”

“She kept journals,” I finish for him softly.

My eyes run the length of the page, picking out random words here and there. Eventually realizing the journal I chose must be from shortly after she moved here with my father. Part of me wants to sit here and devour all of them without moving… but a greater part of me wants to escape this place and drag them into the light of day before spilling whatever darkness eventually flows from their ink.

I snap the journal shut, turning my head to look at Jace next to me. “Carry them to my car for me?”

His eyes turn playful for the first time since we stepped into this place. “See, I knew you would need me for something.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I feel my lips twitch just a bit in response. “You proved your worth, Dawson.”

I lead the way out of the house, hurriedly shutting off lights and closing doors behind me. I found what I needed for the day and now all I want to do is get out of this place as fast as my feet can carry me. Hoping that I never have to enter here again.

Jace follows me as we go and I breathe a deep sigh of relief when I finally close the front door behind us. Shoving my key into the lock and turning it quickly, trying to trap all that dark energy inside and to keep it from seeping out. Not wanting to admit to myself that I’m scared of it following me home.

I run down the stairs and throw open the trunk for Jace, waiting for him to load the box up before slamming it shut. We stand there silently staring at each other and appreciating the horror we just survived under the harsh light of day. I can see his firework eyes lightening by the second and eventually my body sags in relief despite the harsh pounding starting up in my head.

He takes a step toward me, flashing those dimples and bringing his hands up to cup my face. “You’re kind of a badass, you know?”

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