Page 21 of Shadowed With Fear

“Clothes.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock but you think you could like, I dunno, not wear something that looks like you went five rounds with a rabid raccoon.” He stifles a laugh and I mock offense.

“Excuse me? I have you know, ripped fishnets are very stylish right now, jackass. But seriously, what did she devil want.”

I walk to the fridge grabbing a Dr. Pepper and key lime pie yogurt.

“Your birthday dinner,” he states, taking a sip from his coffee mug.

“Fuuuccckkkkkk.” I fall into a chair beside him, and he nods.

“Yup.”

“When is she summoning us?”

“Saturday.”

“Really? Why Saturday? They’re having midnight shows on Saturdays at the marquee starting this weekend. I was wanting to go.” I pout into my yogurt. Brahm sighs throwing an arm over my shoulder.

“I know, but you can go next weekend, but hopefully we can leave early enough for you to go.” He starts to stack his papers and sets them all in a pile off to the side. I could only make out a few of them, some look like floor plans, others look like records of some kind. It all looks like gibberish to me though.

“Is Liz and Issac going with you?”

I scoff and then shrug. “Actually, I don’t about Issac. Remember, Liz broke up with him like a month ago. But, after today, I dunno. I’m sure she is regardless. Why?” I take a large gulp of my pop, standing to throw my yogurt cup away.

“If it’s just you and Liz make sure you let me know and I’ll go with you guys. I don’t want you going out alone at night for a while, D.”

My spine straightens and I look at him. “Why?”

Does he know about the Fest? God, if he does, he’ll never let me leave the house.

“A girl was found dead, and another is missing, D. She wasn’t much younger than you. I just want you safe.” Brahm radiates concern.

“I’m always careful,” I mumble picking at a tear in my tights.

“I know, D. I know, but I worry. Just try to not go out alone, okay?”

I nod. “Okay, B.”

He holds out his hand, pinky up and a twinkle in his eyes. I roll mine and can’t help my smile at this childhood tradition. Pinky promises are law in the Beckett house.

I wrap my pinky around his and we each kiss our thumbs before touching them.

“Come on, let’s go watch a movie or something?” Brahm stands, stretching his arms high above his head. I really didn’t mean to do it, honest to God, but on some weird like instinct, my fist shoots out nailing him square in the stomach. The air is pushed from his lungs as he folds over groaning. I slap my hand to my mouth, choking on an apology between laughs. He raises his head, and evil grin shining through the pain.

“You’re on.” And he starts into a sprint. I scream, laughing, picking up anything in my way and throwing it at him, laughing harder each time I hear him grunt in pain from the impact.

Dahlia

I hate it here. My dad’s new house, the one he bought after our mom died, is fucking huge. It’s way too over the top. I prefer Brahm’s house—our house. The one that had all of the best and worst memories of my life.

The walls that shaped me into the person I am today. With the tree house I turned into a theater when I was ten, and the neighbors who let me and Brahm come over for hot chocolate on snow days. Not this…mansion in the middle of fucking nowhere.

It’s a huge ass estate right on the edge of East End and Beckettsville. Yes, you heard me. Beckettsville, the small town that my family’s business helped developed like a hundred years ago or something. It’s a cute little coal town, that now also has a few logging and construction businesses, and things like that.

I remember walking through the brick laid street as a kid with my grandpa. Like dad, he also lived in a crazy huge house, which was completely impractical, but somehow it worked. There were old photographs covering just about every square inch of the house. Pictures of dad and Uncle Hank as kids, baby photos of me and Brahm, and my favorite, the large portrait of Grandpa and Gran on their wedding day.

She looked so beautiful. He dark curls a lot like my own, tied back into victory curls, a dark lipstick lining her bright smile, and Grandpa looking at her as if she were his sun.