The Missing- Volume II- Lies Read online

  Maren was walking back towards me. Towards us. Rosie laughed. I didn’t know what was so funny. Bradley was gone. I hadn’t seen him leave. He hadn’t even said goodbye.

  That hurt. More than I cared to admit.

  “What’s wrong, Nora?” Maren asked, giving me a strange look.

  Rosie snickered beside me, but I wouldn’t introduce them. I wouldn’t let my foster sister into this part of my life.

  I looped my arm with Maren’s and pulled her away.

  “I’ll see you at home, Nora!” Rosie called out.

  “Shut up!” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?” Maren asked and I shook my head, trying to smile.

  “Where did Bradley go?”

  Maren was still looking at me strangely, and I knew that I was acting nutty. She looked over her shoulder back to where Rosie was still standing. I didn’t want to explain my former foster sister to her. I didn’t want to let Rosie’s poison infiltrate any part of what we had.

  Thankfully she didn’t ask about Rosie. She allowed me to pull her along, and I reveled in touching her like this.

  “He went to class. I don’t think he’s going to meet us later.” Maren sighed. “I wish he would. He seems like he needs to loosen up a little.”

  I stopped, planting my feet. My good feelings were erased an instant. All because she dared to mention Bradley.

  “You don’t know anything about Bradley,” I snapped. I didn’t like her talking about him. I didn’t want her wondering about him. I didn’t want her to think about him at all.

  Maren looked startled. “What’s the problem? I’m just trying to get to know your friend. He’s intense. And I know you care about him. And I care about you. So I want to find out more about him.”

  She cared about me?

  I relaxed, my shoulders sagging.

  I ran my hand up and down her arm and she didn’t pull away. Not this time.

  That felt important. Significant.

  Maren grabbed my hand and held it tight. “But we can go. Just the two of us. Maybe Bradley could come another time.”

  Just the two of us.

  “Okay,” I whispered, gently lacing my fingers with hers and running my thumb over her pulse.

  Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

  And I knew this was it.

  The moment.

  The one I had been waiting for.

  The Present

  Day 8

  Your house is on fire

  Your children will burn

  I laughed and laughed. I couldn’t stop.

  I was delirious with exhaustion and dehydration. I was starving and had forgotten what it felt like to be full.

  All I could think about was Maren. And Bradley. And the whispered secrets my mind shielded from me.

  And it was all so funny!

  I lay against the wall that separated Maren and me. It was as close as I could get to the woman I loved.

  “Do you remember that time you snapped the guitar string and it hit me in the face? It sliced my skin right open. It hurt so much, but you wiped up the blood and then we started laughing. And laughing.”

  Could Maren hear me?

  I knew she could.

  So I kept talking. I kept laughing. Just so I didn’t feel so alone.

  My eyelids felt heavy and I closed them. Only for a minute. But I didn’t want to sleep. The dreams were more terrifying than being awake.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “I’m here, Nora, and I expect you to snap out of it! This is not appropriate. And it is not suitable behavior. How dare you make me look a fool! I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance! Now look at you!”

  I didn’t want to hear her voice. Her words hurt. That’s why she said them.

  I kept my eyes closed and tried to drift away. Away from her and her angry, angry words.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  “I should have drowned you that first night. When I saw your horrible face, I knew you were no child. You were a demon! My sin brought to life! He hated you. He wouldn’t stay because of you! And now I’m stuck with the thing that I despise the most!”

  Stop it!

  I tried to scream, but I couldn’t.

  I wanted to cry, but the tears were gone.

  She didn’t deserve them anyway.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  I sat up with a start.

  Something was different.

  I tried to pull myself up to my knees. It took a few attempts given how weak I was, but I was finally able to after a few attempts. I looked at Maren through the hole in the wall. Still. So very still.

  But wait.

  Had she moved?

  Maybe?

  Had her arm been outstretched like that before?

  I could have sworn her hair had been brushed around her and not over her shoulder.

  I was pretty sure her head moved slightly, even though I still couldn’t see her face.

  “Maren?” I called out.

  Nothing.

  I slid back down the wall and pulled my knees up to my chest. My stomach growled and I tried to swallow. My parched throat burned. I was so tired. So hungry. So very, very thirsty.

  But I didn’t have time to think about my thirst or my hunger. I had to think about a way to get out of here. A way to get free.

  For me. For Maren.

  “Where’s Bradley?”

  “I don’t know, Maren. He has to be looking for me. He’s probably going out of his mind.”

  “Where’s Bradley?”

  “Stop asking me that! I don’t know!” I screamed at her. It was a simple question with an equally simple answer, yet it enraged me. Mostly because I couldn’t answer it. It stirred up doubts that I didn’t want to think about. Dark, dangerous thoughts about the person who had locked us away.

  “I’ll do whatever I have to do to keep you safe, Nora. Even if you hate me for it.”

  There were so many memories. Bits and pieces that were starting to come together like a gigantic, messy puzzle.

  I had wanted to remember that night. The one that brought me here. I had been so desperate for it. But the longer that I remained trapped, the harder it was for me to hold onto the reality I had lived out there at all.

  The snippets that had played in my mind came with so much anger and betrayal that I knew something horrible had happened. Something that I had blocked out. Something that once remembered, would destroy what little sanity I had left.

  I itched at the burning skin on my foot. The tattoo. Bright red against pale skin.

  It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. I thought of Maren’s similar design and my gut twisted into complicated knots.

  I remembered . . .

  “What is this?” Maren pointed at my bandaged foot. I grinned, excited to show her what I had done.

  “Do you want to see?” I teased.

  Maren rolled her eyes. “Stop playing around, Nora. Either show me or don’t.”

  She sounded exasperated. I frowned. Maren’s patience was running thin lately. Particularly where I was concerned. I wasn’t sure what had changed. What I had done. But I was determined to get things back on track.

  Starting with this one thing that would bind us together always.

  I slowly peeled away the bandage and watched her face for her reaction.

  “What do you think?” I asked eagerly.

  Maren’s mouth thinned and her eyes narrowed. “When did you get this?”

  I swallowed, my throat feeling tight. My eyes burned, but I wouldn’t cry. “Uh, yesterday after class. I thought—”

  “I don’t understand what you’re doing, Nora.” Maren sounded sad. So sad. And troubled too.

  I lifted my hand and softly stroked her cheek. “How can you not know?” I baited, trying to lighten the mood. I covered the tattoo with the bandage again. The tattoo just like hers.

  Maren seemed angry. “What did you think would happen because you got this? Please, make me understand!”<
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  I clicked my tongue. “You have one and I have one. It’s ours.” Why was she getting so upset? I thought she’d be happy. She cared about me. She said so.

  “Did you think that by doing this we’d be together or something? That it meant we were a . . . couple?” she seemed to spit out that last word as though it were dirty. My heart split open. A deep chasm.

  “I th-thought—” I began to stutter.

  Maren quickly rose to her feet, her soft brown hair blowing around her. I wish my hair were that soft. I wanted it to be lovely as it blew in my face.

  She seemed so angry. So disgusted.

  For the first time since we met, I hid my face from her. Ashamed.

  “You can’t force love, Nora! You can’t demand affection! You’re squeezing me to death, and I just want you to let me go!”

  The air left my lungs and I almost collapsed.

  “It’s just a tattoo—” I tried to make it insignificant.

  Liar!

  “No, it’s not. It’s not just a tattoo,” Maren whispered, her fury disappearing and turning into something that looked like fear.

  I rubbed at the infected skin, scratching it with my nails. I wanted to get rid of it. I wanted it gone!

  I scratched and scratched but still it remained.

  I was branded with a deep, impenetrable love. A love that was killing me.

  “Maren,” I moaned.

  “Where’s Bradley?”

  “Stop asking me that!” I shouted, covering my ears with my blood coated hands. “Just stop it! This has nothing to do with Bradley! I just want to go home! I want to get out of here!”

  “It has everything to do with Bradley.”

  The heat became overwhelming, and I was incredibly lightheaded.

  “And you’ll never be able to go home. Never again . . .”

  “Please, just don’t!”

  “The dark has eyes, the shadows have teeth. Always doubt the truth underneath.”

  She sang me the song. It was ours. I should have known.

  The voice. The melody. That’s why it was so familiar.

  “Those words were the most honest thing about you, Nora.”

  “Why are you being so cruel, Maren? What did I ever do to you?” Why was she hurting me? All I had ever done was love her. All I had ever wanted was for us to be together. If I was guilty of anything, it was that I adored her completely.

  Bradley had been right. Love was every painful, horrible thing in life. I should have listened to him.

  “You let this happen. You won’t get us out!”

  “I will! I will get us out of here! I promise!”

  “But where’s Bradley?”

  I crawled to the door and felt around the cracks, looking for a way out. I would get free if it was the last thing I did.

  And it just might be.

  The Past

  Three Months Ago

  I stood over my mother while she slept and watched her breathe.

  She smiled slightly in her dreams and I wondered what made her happy behind closed lids.

  Carefully, so as to not wake her, I held a lock of her aging blonde hair between my fingers. Cold. Not warm. Brittle. Not soft. Dead follicles.

  Cold. Brittle. Dead.

  I smiled.

  It was just how I wished her to be.

  I pulled a pair of scissors from my pocket and snipped the strand.

  Then I left the room with my prize.

  I placed the hair underneath my pillow and fell into my own dreams of a love I’d never have and a life I’d never escape.

  “This place is sort of strange,” Maren said, making herself comfortable on the floor. She pulled out a notebook and laid it on her lap.

  I settled myself beside her, opening a bag of bar-b-que potato chips that Bradley had left behind. For me.

  We were at the barn. My special place. Full of memories and lingering smoke. It felt good to be here with her.

  “It smells like something died in here,” Maren chuckled, tapping her pencil on the paper.

  I snickered and then shivered at her words.

  Like something died.

  “It’s quiet though. No one for miles,” I pointed out, nudging her leg with the tip of my shoe.

  Maren peered at me from the corner of her eye. “Why does that make me a little nervous?” Her perfect, pretty lips quirked up in a slight smile.

  I loved it when she teased. When she joked. When we played in this light, easy way with one another.

  Quickly, I climbed on top of my oblivious love, straddling her. Maren stilled underneath me. I ran my hands through her hair. Her long, brown hair. “Are you scared I’m going to do something? Chop you up into little pieces, maybe? Hide you under the floorboards?” I laughed.

  Maren’s smile faded a little, though I could see that she struggled to hold onto it. I pressed myself against her. I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. I wasn’t usually so forward. Not with Maren.

  Maybe it was being here with her. Maybe it was the isolation and quiet.

  Maybe it was the memory of smoke and fire.

  I felt it deep inside and wished that she’d touch me. I wanted it more than the air that I breathed.

  “Is that what you’re planning to do, Nora? Chop me up into little pieces?” Maren whispered, pitching her voice low.

  I continued to run my hands through her hair and leaned close.

  Kiss me . . .

  We were so close. I could smell the mint on her breath from her gum. I could see the frantic rise and fall of her chest. I could feel the warmth between her legs against the most secret part of me.

  “You’re crushing me, Nora,” she laughed and it sounded strained. She gave me a shove, moving me.

  My heart collapsed in disappointment.

  I got up and sat back down beside her, trying to calm my racing heart. We were silent for a long time, and I berated myself for my aggressiveness.

  “So what’s so important about this place anyway? Why is it so special to you?” Maren asked, sounding like she was having trouble speaking. Her voice was rough and raw. “It looks like it should be condemned. Are you sure it’s safe to be here?”

  Did I dare share my story? Of course I would. It was Maren. I would give her anything. Especially if she asked for it.

  I thought of Bradley. He’d been so strange lately. I’d appreciated the effort he was making to spend time with Maren and me, but it bothered me as well.

  Mostly because Maren’s attention was divided between us.

  Bradley’s attention wasn’t entirely focused on me any longer.

  That made me sound incredibly selfish, but it was hard for me to share things when I had never been given much to begin with.

  “Nora?” Maren prompted when I didn’t answer her right away.

  “My dad had a workshop here. He made saddles. Sometimes I’d come with him and watch him make them.”

  Maren looked around. “Here in this room?” she asked.

  I nodded and pointed to the far side. “I’d sit in that corner for hours. He didn’t talk to me much, but I just liked being here. It was better than being at home.”

  Maren chewed on her bottom lip. “There’s more to that story, isn’t there?”

  I clasped my hands in my lap, squeezing until it hurt. “Isn’t there always?” I responded lightly.

  Maren began to write in her notebook, and I watched her draw music notes on the page.

  “Tell me the story, Nora. I want to hear it,” she urged.

  I wanted to sit closer to her but, after the earlier weirdness, I was scared to. I wanted an intimacy with Maren. I ached to be near her. To talk to her. To share things with her that I had only ever told Bradley.

  He won’t like it.

  I worried about Bradley and what he would think about my bringing Maren here.

  But more than that, I wanted to give her everything that I had. Every ugly, horrible thing. Every sad story. Every dream. Every w
ish.

  I trusted her to keep them safe.

  “We all have things that are hard to talk about, Nora. But trust me when I say that it’s better to let it out than to keep it in.” She took my hand in hers and I could cry from the joy of it. “And I’d be honored if you share it with me. I’ll keep your secrets.” She made an x over her heart. “Promise.”

  She didn’t drop my hand. She held it tightly. My palm between hers.

  She made it look so easy to be honest and open. I wanted to be that way for her.

  “There was a fire. My father died soon after that. I don’t talk about him much,” I said in a rush.

  “I’m sorry, Nora,” Maren replied softly, squeezing my cold fingers.

  “After the fire, my dad took everything out of his workshop and never made another saddle. Not that it mattered. Three months later, he was gone.”

  I didn’t really want to talk about my dad or his death that I didn’t know much about. Maren seemed to pick up on that so she didn’t push.

  “What caused the fire?” she asked.

  I frowned, feeling a familiar anger.

  “Rosie,” I murmured.

  “Rosie?” Maren repeated. I hated the sound of her name on Maren’s lips. It was vile and filthy.

  “My foster sister.” I dug my nails into Maren’s hand and she winced, pulling away.

  Stupid, stupid Nora!

  “She burned it. She lit the match. She spilled the gasoline. It was all her fault.”

  “Why would she do that?” Maren asked, sounding horrified.

  “Because she was jealous,” I spat out. “I was here with my dad and she had wanted to come. She didn’t like being left behind.”

  Maren was chewing on her bottom lip again. “That seems like an extreme reaction to being left at home. She sounds crazy!”

  “She was. The craziest, most awful person I have ever known.” I couldn’t think about Rosie without wanting to hurt. Myself. Someone else.

  “What happened to her? Your foster sister?”

  I smiled. A real, honest smile. “She went away. She couldn’t live with us any longer. Not after the fire.”

  Maren was watching me and I liked it. I enjoyed her attention. “That made you happy, didn’t it?” she surmised.

  “I was glad she wasn’t here anymore.”