She watches me carefully, her bright turquoise eyes searching mine. She sighs and then shakes her head. “No.”
She is downright perfection. I can see why Madison was insecure about her now. Even in this cage, muddy and stinking of piss, she looks like she’s walked straight off a Victoria Secret runway.
“But before, you said my name?”
She seems to be looking for something on my face. Or tossing up whether she should be honest with me right now or lie. “I heard The Kings talk about you, that’s all…”
I get the feeling that she’s lying, but right now isn’t the time to press for truths. I take her hand after untying the binds around her ankles. “Let’s get you home.”
“Oh, I can’t. My mom and dad, they…”
I shake my head. “Your—whoever Brantley is to you— is taking you.”
“Brantley is my first cousin, and why would he do that? He gives me the creeps.”
I hook my arm around hers and start leading us in the direction of where Brantley said. “You and me both, sister. You and me both.”
We’re trekking through the fallen branches when I hear something rustle to the side.
“Shh,” I say, stopping Bailey’s movements. She wasn’t talking, but at least she’s smart enough not to make more noise by pointing that out. “Huh.” I shrug as we start moving through the trees again. The wind picks up, kicking my hair all over my face and chills spit through me. “If we could hurry up, that’d be great.”
A loud banging claps through the air, causing me to jump. I swear, my head is so dramatic. Bailey doesn’t move as if nothing frightens her. The loud bang sounds out again, and I look to the right in the direction it’s coming from.
“Let’s just go…” Bailey says, urging me toward the opposite direction.
Bang! It’s like a door slamming open and shut relentlessly.
“Seriously,” Bailey brushes me off. “It’s probably just a barn or something.”
Before I can contest what she’s saying, my feet are carrying me toward the sound.
Bang!
Bang!
I speed up, breaking out into a jog with Bailey being dragged behind me.
The sound gets closer, my heart beating faster as sweat oozes down my head. There’s a small clearing, so I shove the branches away, reaching for my phone and turning the light on.
I point it toward the noise and then freeze. The rusted wooden door, the steps leading up to it. The aluminum roof that provides it little shelter.
This was the small shack Daemon drew in his book.
“What?” I gasp, my head tilting to get a better look.
“Tillie, we should leave this place,” Bailey says, her eyes flying around the area. I understand her fear. I don’t blame her. What with being locked up in a cage for however long, awaiting her fate.
“It’s okay. I’ve seen this place before…” I take a step forward, the damp leaves rustling under the sole of my shoe. The wind whistles a sweet lullaby that sings through the strands of my hair, but like an interrupted record, it suddenly stops at the touch of Bailey’s hand on my arm.
I turn to face her. “What?”
She’s looking at me with fear, but her eyes frantically go over my shoulder and to the cabin. “We need to leave, Tillie.”
My eyes narrow, my suspicions about just how much this girl knows growing a little stronger the longer that I’m in her presence. I rip my arm out of her grasp and turn back to face the cabin. It’s not livable, it’s barely still standing against the wind. I start taking more tentative steps forward, looking around the yard. There’s a small tin roof that leads off to an old garage, but that wasn’t in the book. There’s a well in the front with an aged splintered bucket dangling from damp rope. My attention snaps to the front door when a dark shadow zips past in a flash.
“Tillie!” Bailey yells, but it’s too late.
I zip forward and run straight for the steps, taking them two at a time with my heart thundering in my chest. Ignoring the protesting stairs and old porch wood, I kick open the door that has been slamming open and shut and stand at the threshold, every single inch of myself is saying to run and that I do not belong in this place, but my rebellious side is disputing my logical side. I slide my finger into the small hole where the door handle used to be. Lightning starts flashing above me from the skies, thunder clapping angrily, as if it’s remonstrating my being here.
“Hello?” I say, pushing the door open even more.
I feel like a fucking idiot—you know, the kind that asks hello after walking into a place they shouldn’t be walking into. It’s usually a couple of minutes before they get murdered, too. I shine the spotlight of my phone into the sitting room and gasp, my knees shaking, threatening to give way. A torn up single lounge chair is seated in front of an old fireplace. There’s foam spilling out of the split seams, illustrating the lack of usage. It’s the exact same chair in Daemon’s book. My eyes catch the fireplace since there seems to be nothing else in here where furnishing is concerned. It’s dark, like a cemented block of blackboard plastered against the frame of a fireplace, but I find myself squinting in an attempt to get a better look. Something flickers inside of it, too small to have me think maybe I imagined it, but big enough to catch my attention. It floats up, and it’s then that I realize it’s a firefly. How peculiar, to have a firefly here, in this weather. It flutters again, enough for its light to hit the right angle. The curve of something penetrates the light
