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“A no pants party huh?” he says laughing.
“Well, when you're fighting for your life while packing you forget things like jammies. Besides, I hate wearing pants to bed. Makes me itchy.” I laugh sitting up and grabbing my phone. I need to start my research even if I would rather sleep for the next forty eight hours instead. I want to burrow down into these sheets and never come out. I grab the notebook off the bed where it was thrown and start flipping through it. I start with the ‘Alexander Debrough’ with the year they moved in.
I put my head in my hands and I rub my eyes viciously. My mother would scold me for it. ‘You’re going to give yourself wrinkles miss mam.’ Gods, I wish I had her right now. I have never needed my mother more. She always had the best advice. Whether it was about the immature asshats I went to school with or my first sort of boyfriend. Can’t really call him a boyfriend, pretty sure he just wanted to say he fucked the weird girl. Fool me once and all. I shake my head of those thoughts and lean back in the bed. Noah pulls me over to him.
“You know, it’s okay to forget your pajamas. To feel out of control or scared. You have too much on your mind. I don't know how you're not freaking out more. I mean, you have ghosts following you. It’s fucking terrifying. Yet, you wanted to sleep in the same house they stalked you in. You know that thing people say about white people? You’re that people, Gumdrop.” I start laughing because it’s true.
“That is true. It’s a particular talent of mine.” Wait… “Gumdrop? That better not be your pet name. I veto. Immediately.”
“Thought I’d try. I’ll find one.”
“You’re ridiculous,” I roll my eyes and smirk at Noah, “but I’m going to sit on the couch. The fire sounds nice and I want to get through these names. If I lay here anymore I’ll continue thinking about sleep.” I hop off the bed grabbing the notebook. I head out to the living room and hear Noah following. I drag a chair over to the fire and start my research, setting the notebook on the arm of the chair.
When I look up the first family, the Debroughs, I only come up with the sons death. There were no other articles about them. I may have to look through some news articles. That would take forever though. When I look up the Boggess’ and the Keeney’s nothing pops up. The house was vacant for years until Tash. There were a couple articles about his appliance repair shop when it opened. Then back to a whole lot of nothing on Bosley, the man who owned the house before me. Maybe I’m looking at this from the wrong angle or maybe something happened while it was vacant? We're definitely going to have to go through newspapers. I groan at the thought of it. I look over at Noah and he is engrossed with his phone. Hopefully he is having more luck than me.
“I have not found much, other than Tash owned an appliance repair shop and that was big news for weeks. There isn't anything, other than census information. We're going to have to go through the newspapers at the library.” I get up and sit next to him since he is still completely invested in whatever has captured his attention. When I plop next to him he finally looks at me.
“Did you know there was a whole ‘satanic cult’ scare here in the forties into the fifties? I mean they never actually caught anyone but they would find dead goats in abandoned houses. They also found a couple dead bodies out in the fields behind your house. The bodies were never identified though.” I stare at him and then his phone. “Hold on, I’m still reading this.” He scans some more of the article and I start reading with him.
‘...said that there were a couple bodies found in the fields out by the old house off Thorn Point Ln. The house in question was built in 1833 and has only seen a few owners. There are several houses on Thorn Point Ln. now but back in the 40’s there were only 3 homes.
Cops were called on several occasions about noise complaints, which you can find in ‘Plains Weekly’. Most of the articles I found were in 1944, from August of that year into the middle of 1945. That seems to be when most of the calls were made.
An Agnes Peters who lived across the street on Thorn Point ln. made most of the calls. Old police files say that she called about people sneaking in and out of the house and not through the front door. That it looked like they were crawling down into the basement through cellar doors. She said she also saw candles lit on the first and second floor. This night in particular she heard an altercation, or what seemed like an altercation. By the time the cops did a drive by there were no candles and no one was found. A couple weeks later some loose dogs were reported to have brought human bones back home. There was an investigation in the fields where a male body was found, left decomposing for what was weeks according to the coroner at the time. There looked to be stab wounds but the body was in bad shape when brought to the coroners.
The John Doe’s body was never claimed. The investigation turned up another dead body a few weeks later of a young female that had been stabbed by an unknown weapon and buried in a shallow grave. The coroner says this body had been out there for months. That body was also never claimed.
The sheriff and FBI labeled this all as ‘Satanic cult’ killings which caused quite the panic in little old Plains. Families stayed locked inside after the sun went down and…’
I lean back into the couch and start laughing. “What in the actual fuck is life right now? I swear if I'm being haunted by demons I will lose my shit.” I stop laughing and look at Noah. “Did Agnes say a cellar door?”
“Yeah, looks like it.” He says looking back at his phone. “This article was not written for the paper. This is just a blog of sorts that I stumbled across. It could all be fake or exaggerated. The article definitely isn’t well written. Maybe it’s a younger kid but…”
“It’s something to go on. Going through the owners did nothing. I don't have a cellar door though. I mean, I have a basement but it's small and it’s not much room for a party. I could only fit some boxes down there with my washer and dryer. Well, you know! You helped build that shelving. Oh gods….I can't live there ever again. What if the reason I’m attached to this house is because a ghost somehow clung to me and I’m just feeling his emotions or some weird shit. What if I never actually wanted that place. It was some ghostly feeling. Maybe I have never seen them because they are stuck in a wall or something. God, this is turning into a horror movie.”
“Well, first let's go through articles from 1944 and 1945 tomorrow and then when you get off we can scour your basement for a false wall.” He grabs my phone and sets it on the ottoman. He then pulls me over onto his lap so I’m straddling him. “Or would you like to go to the library now?” He rubs my back up and down and I shake my head.
“We can do more research from our phones. Lets see if we can find anything else on our phones and whatever we can't find we can look into at the library. We will have to check out my basement. We should do that today? It would put me at ease. I also want to email that blogger. Can you send me the link to that site?”
“Of course,” he looks at his phone again and then I hear mine ping, “let's get your pants on and then we can head out and check your basement. We still have plenty of daylight.” He starts to get up but I hold onto the back of the couch to keep him sitting. He sits back and gives me a questioning look.
I have some shit to get off my chest. This is the one good thing happening to me right now. I learned to grasp what I want, when I want it. I don’t bother with listening to other people's judgment. My mother always told me to take the opportunity. Never pass up life. I know going to my house is probably the wiser and more adult decision right now but all my problems will still be there after I have a conversation with him.
“Can I just kiss you? Just for a minute. We could have been doing this the whole time. And we haven't even talked about last night and I just… ” I trail off and put my hands through his hair. “Why did neither of us say anything?” I whisper, placing my forehead on his. “Now shadows, creepy ghosts and possible death are in the way. We have terrible timing.” I huff. I lean back and look at him. “I never wanted to ruin our friendship and it killed me to see you with other girls in high school and so I just bottled all those feelings up. You were all I had other than my mother. The one thing I never wanted to fuck up. Being friends was better than not having you at all.” One of his hands curls into the back of my shirt between my shoulder blades and the other is on my lower back pulling me into him.
“I never wanted to lose you. I was terrified of it. I have always felt an attachment to you. I guess my thoughts were the same. I didn’t know how you felt so I never brought it up. Not wanting to ruin things between us by making our friendship awkward. In high school I was just being an idiot. I thought if I could find an attachment with someone else I could forget the raging feelings I had for you. I was foolish.” He sighs heavily. “It may be terrible timing but fuck am I happy that I slipped up.” He smashes his lips to mine and pulls me so close we are practically fused together. My hands slide to his face and his hands roam under my shirt grabbing at my sides. Dragging his fingers down my back roughly. This is what I need. I just need him and his rough hands on me.
I grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it up, breaking our kiss as I pull it over his head and chuck the shirt to the side. I stare and run my hands down his chest and arms. I would say chiseled by the gods but years of throwing hay bales would do the trick too. He grips my shirt and looks into my eyes. Asking. I answer by lifting my arms up. He pulls my shirt over my head and lets out a groan. He stares at me, running his finger across the swell of my breast. He reaches behind me to undo my bralette’s clip with one hand. Then he trails both hands up my back, hooking his fingers into the straps and pulling them down my arms while his eyes are pursuing every bit of my bare skin. I sit silently, except for my heavy, nervous breathing. I watch everything he is doing to my body, how his fingers trail over my skin. His fingers leave a wake of shivers. I let out a soft sigh and my core is aching and needing him. Noah pushes his hand into my hair pulling my head to bare my neck to him. He rushes in kissing and biting down my neck to my chest. He leaves nothing untouched. He sucks a nipple into his mouth and I let out a moan, rocking against him needing everything.
He lets my nipple go with an audible pop. “I need words, Dana. Is this what you want right now? I don't want to stop but I will if you say the words.” He rests his head against my chest. “We will get dressed and do what we should be doing.” He grips my back waiting for my answer.
“Yes,” I breathe out, “yes, I want this. Everything else can wait.” He grabs my ass and stands up abruptly. I quickly wrap my legs around his waist. He takes us back to his room while I leave a trail of kisses and love bites down his neck. We haven’t even made it back to his room before he aggressively pushes my back up against the wall next to his bedroom door.
He grips my neck with one hand and forces me to look at him. “I fucking want you more than anything in my life. Never forget that.” He whispers across my jaw and towards my ear. “I have fantasized about this for years. Exactly this. My lips on you…” He bites my chin and pulls me away from the wall. He steps into the room and he throws me onto the bed. I lay there legs splayed and breasts bouncing from the fall. I push up onto my elbows and watch him undo his belt, with one fucking hand. God damn, who knew that could be so sexually appealing? He puts the belt on the bed. He slowly undoes the buttons and zipper. All while staring at me, taking in all of my bared skin. He pushes his jeans down and I start breathing harder. I can see the outline of his cock and it sends heat coursing through my body. He steps out of his jeans and I sit up farther when he climbs on the bed crawling over me. He kisses me hard and pulls back. He kneels in between my legs and then grabs my underwear to yank them off. He throws them behind his back and just stares at my body. Eyes roaming everywhere.
“See something you like?” I ask, sitting up farther, reaching to pull his boxers down. I should not be the only naked one right now. He helps me remove his boxers, tossing them to the ground.
“You’re so fuckin pretty,” he growls, he reaches forward and presses down between my breasts, pushing me back into the bed. His eyes take on a feral gleam. God, has he always been like this? Dominating and demanding? With me he has always been so sweet, calm and collected. Always there to brighten the day. I did not know this lurked beneath. I mean, I did get a hint of it earlier but godsdamn, it's like a whole other Noah has taken over.
