A kitchen greeted me.
A large kitchen with old oak cupboards, an island, and filled with the aroma of freshly baked cookies.
I paused long enough for my sight to adjust, and then raced across the white and black checkered floor to the screen door on the other side.
“Miss Clayton?”
Fuck.
I stopped, the door within reach and my heart slamming into my ribcage with the abrupt movement. Ignoring my shaky breath, the trembling of my limbs as adrenaline demanded I move, I mustered a smile. “Hey, Lou Lou.”
Lou Lou shifted on her bare little feet and tugged at her white dress with red roses. “Where are you going? Are you feeling better?”
The sound of feet coming up the stairs had me backing up to the door.
But Lou Lou … her eyes, her dad, this place. Could I really just leave her there?
The door opened behind me, and a scream lodged in my throat as a man entered wearing a suit and an apron with printed words that read, world’s dodgiest chef, stared down at me.
He had what looked to be a permanent smile etched into his face. Twin scars met and ran from beneath his lips, curving around his mouth and cutting through his cheeks before stopping at the corners of each eye. My own eyes watched as his hand, which was missing an index finger, moved behind him.
Holy mother of hell.
My heart, which had been dancing like a trapped bird, stopped moving as the lock clicked on the door, and the panel beside it beeped. All traces of adrenaline fled with the sounds, and I tore my eyes away from the disfigured face. “I-I …” I had no idea what to say.
“Murry,” Lou Lou chirped. “This is my teacher.”
Murry, with a hand at my back, gently directed me back through the kitchen toward the door I’d just burst through. I looked up at him, ignoring the scars, and pleaded with my eyes and a whisper, “No, please.”
“Wanna come color with me, Miss Clayton?” Lou Lou asked. When all I did was blink at her, she looked at the open door. “Oh, is Daddy working?”
“He is,” Murry said, stopping, then gave me a look that said, “What did you do?”
Thomas appeared in the dark at the top of the stairs, a finger pressed to his lips as he met Murry’s and my gazes.
“Hey, Lou. Would you mind getting me the old cookbook with the French flag on the cover from the library?”
Lou Lou groaned. “But I’m hungry, and it’s too far away.”
Murry raised a brow. “You’ll get your cookies after, I promise.”
With that, she bounded out of the room, and Thomas moved out of the shadows, a look of pure annoyance on his face as he stared at me with a hand pressed to his bleeding head.
“What did you do?” Murry voiced, his tone curt.
My mouth hung open.
“She hit me over the head with a plate,” Thomas answered for me. “And why didn’t you close the door?”
“I was coming back with cookies.” Murry groaned, his dark eyes filled with dismay. “From the cream set?”
Thomas winced, pulling his hand away and frowning at the blood. He rubbed it between his fingers, and my stomach heaved at the action. “Afraid so.”
“And the status of the plate?”
My eyes zigzagged from Murry to Thomas.
“Don’t worry about my head or anything, will you?” He rolled his eyes when Murry continued to wait for confirmation. “Dead.”
Murry cursed up a violent storm beside me, and I slowly backed away, my ass connecting sharply with the countertop.
“They were vintage,” he said, bending and tugging out a tray of cookies from one of two ovens. He tossed them to the stovetop with a clatter.
“Never mind the plates. I might need a stitch or two.”
Murry sighed, then walked over to inspect Thomas’s head. “Downstairs.”
Dazed as hell by them just leaving me there, I watched as they walked into the dark.
The large door shut and locked behind them, and I noticed another panel beside it, high up on the wall. Intercom and a keypad. I assumed the door could only be unlocked with a code.
Fueled by the fact the hardest obstacle had been hurdled, I turned for the window at the sink. Outside of it, all I saw was dead grass, wildflowers, and an old dam surrounded by weeds. I checked but found it locked, then caught sight of my reflection as a cloud moved over the sun.
My hair stood at every angle imaginable. My eyes were smudged with old mascara and exhaustion, and as I looked down at my dress, I found it crinkled and ripped in places.
I looked like a wild animal, but Lou Lou didn’t care, returning and thumping a book onto the counter. “Are you better now?”
“Um.” I walked closer, smoothing down my hair as much as I could. “Much better, yes.”
Her eyes were bright, unfettered happiness shining back at me. “Want a cookie?”
I glanced over at the tray, and the memory of the man who’d made them, his face, and the anger he no doubt felt toward me for breaking one of his plates had me saying, “I think we should wait. They might be a bit hot.”
“Okay, come on then.” She came and took my hand.
“Where are we going?” I asked as she dragged me from the kitchen. This was good, I told myself. I’d be able to explore a little and maybe find out where I was.
“Back to your room, silly.” She peeked up at me, her tiny nose scrunched. “You really must’ve been sick.”
“My room?” We entered a sprawling dining room, complete with a never-ending dark oak table, matching chairs, old artwork, and giant crystal chandelier.
“Yeah, Daddy said you’re staying with us for a little while until you’re all better, ’cause your daddy is old, and you don’t want him to get sick.” We exited the dining room and moved into what looked like a foyer. Lou Lou lowered her voice at the base of a gigantic, winged staircase. “’Cause old people can get sick easier and maybe die.”
I smiled, somehow, and glanced behind me at the large front double doors. Another security panel was on the wall beside them, and there were numerous locks on the doors. I’d bet that every single one of them was latched into place.
Sighing, I let Lou Lou lead me upstairs.
She stopped where the stairs reached the second floor, and my eyes traveled up the remaining stairs as we walked away from them, wondering where they led.
We continued down a wide hall with polished marble floors, Lou Lou filling me in on all the fishing, coloring, and cooking she’d already done over the first three weeks of summer break.
Weeks. It was hard to believe life could change that drastically in such a short space of time. But I knew it to be true. I’d already discovered the hard way that, in an instant, your entire world might cease to exist, and you were left to traverse a new foreign one where nothing was ever the same.
Vases of wildflowers decorated mid-century styled hall tables. Faded oriental rugs ran the length of each hall. The place was like a museum. An old, classic home that was either restored to much of its vintage origins or had been expertly kept.
“Here it is,” Lou Lou said, pushing open a door at the end of the hall.
The door opened to reveal a queen-size white bed, matching white linen, and matching armoire. Hesitantly, I walked in and spied my bags at the foot of the bed, zipped shut and taunting.
He’d taken my bags.
Someone had been to my father’s house.
Lou Lou’s comment about my dad had the rising nerves settling. He wouldn’t. I didn’t know why, but I knew he wouldn’t have hurt my dad.
An arched window with vines covering half the panes was the only source of light. A small window seat sat below, and I ran my palm over the gray fabric covering it, longing for the one I had at home.
“You can see the woods from here,” Lou Lou said, jolting me out of my musings and stabbing a finger at the glass as she climbed onto the seat.
“So you can,” I said, taking in the treetops and the flock of birds that shot into the sky above them.
What I wouldn’t give to be among those birds, taking flight, leaving all of this behind.
“Will you read my new book to me? Daddy said you like to read a lot.” Lou Lou tugged at her ponytail, a small giggle drifting past rosy little lips. “And I said I already knew that, which made him smile.”
“Oh, yeah?” I sat beside her, my sore muscles grateful for the reprieve.
“Yup. Daddy’s usually always right, so when I’m right first, it makes him smile.”
Smiling again myself, I reached over and tweaked her nose. “Grab me that book of yours, and we’ll read.”
She jumped up. “Okay.”
I stood after she’d left, knowing my phone wouldn’t be in my bag but wanting to check anyway.
I sank back down when she returned to the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Don’t leave.”
“I won’t,” I lied.
Lou Lou frowned as if able to sniff it out. “Promise?”
Surrender loosened my limbs, and I nodded solemnly. “I promise.”
With a smile, she left, and I shifted my gaze to the window, my forehead meeting the cool glass.
For as many questions as Thomas had answered, new ones sprouted in their wake.
What kind of monster kills and tortures people, yet gives a little girl a much-needed home?
A complicated one.