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No talk of my father. No talk of what happened eleven months ago. No I love you. Nothing.
I don’t call Posie back, not for hours. I roll over in bed, pulling the sheets up over my head and zoning the world out. My parents are draining, even across the country, they zap every ounce of energy out of me.
And they wonder why I’m such a loose cannon. Why my fuse is so short. They made me like this. Their lack of all emotions caused me to have too many.
Now here I am, a little over twenty-four hours later, and I’m away from the harsh, cold winters, wild animals, and too many cowboy boots, back where I belong.
Hellcrest Heights, Maine.
A little edgy, a little eerie. Perfectly mine.
A place where the wind whips your face and the waves crash angrily to shore. Where the lighthouses look haunted, and the water’s so dark it’s nearly black. This place has a little spot for everyone, yet only some people can handle the oddities of Hellcrest Heights.
At twenty-one years old, this place still gives me a sense of comfort, while also keeping a lingering edge of mystery.
I bite at my lip, tapping my phone against my knee as we drive down the familiar streets. It’s been so long. The longest I’ve ever gone without talking to my friends. I have no idea what my parents told them, where they believe I’ve been for almost a year.
All I do know is I have a lot to talk to them about. I’ve had no phone, no internet, no TV for the past eleven months. I don’t know what’s happened here. There have been too many unanswered questions for way too long, and it’s time I get some answers.
“It’s really good to see you, Lakyn,” George says with a smirk.
I stare at my reflection in his shining aviators through the rearview mirror, his black suit neatly pressed without a speck of dust on it. I wasn’t surprised when he was the one who picked me up at the airport. My parents wouldn’t be caught waiting at the airport for anyone.
It’s always been George. I’ve known him since I was a young girl and he would bring me to and from the private school in town. He’s been working with my father for as long as I can remember. We’ve had our ups and downs, but he’s always been friendly to me. Someone I could always count on.
Until eleven months ago, when he ripped me from my home and hauled me across the country.
His cool meter definitely broke in half.
I smile at him. “It’s good to see you too, George. Are you still handling people against their will?” Ope, that must have hurt.
He turns back around, his back stiffening. “It will be good to see your parents tomorrow, I’m sure.”
Oh, so we’re sidestepping my question? Nice move, George.
“Any chance you can tell them I decided to stay in Montana?” I smirk, my eyes flitting to the ocean when it comes into view.
Dammit, it’s beautiful.
The lighthouse stands out in the distance, and I grind my teeth as I think of that night. The night where everything that could’ve possibly gone wrong, went wrong.
“That won’t be happening. We’ll see you tomorrow, Lakyn. Five o’clock, sharp.”
He turns off the main road, onto a street with tall trees and homes both old and new.
Turning his car, he pulls up to the curb of a two-story Victorian home. The first thing I notice is that it’s already decorated for Halloween.
Delicate orange lights twine along the length of the large wrap-around porch and white-shuttered windows. A black and dark purple skull wreath hangs on the gray front door, with black, mosaic stone pots on either side, gothic-looking greenery falling over the edges and crawling up the doorframe. A small table for four sits off to the side, an aged lantern in the center, glowing lightly in welcome. And that’s just what I can spot from the car.
I smirk, grabbing my backpack, barely paying attention to George at this point. “Sure.”
He shifts into park, his hand going to the headrest on the passenger seat as he turns around. “Do you need help getting your things inside?”
I pat my suitcase next to me. “None of you gave me time to actually pack, so I don’t have much to unpack, surprisingly.” He frowns, and I feel an inkling of guilt. George only listens to my father because he gives him a paycheck. “I’ll be fine, George. Thanks for the ride.”
He lifts his shades slightly, showing me his warm brown eyes. “Everything is in your new room, Lakyn.”
I give him a nod. “Thanks.”
