Chapter 11
11
DAISY
I peer at Shade a little nervously as he closes the door. Will he be angry about what he saw? I don’t want to care, but the truth is that his opinion was the only one I cared about for a very long time.
‘I drew you a bath,’ he says.
I look down at the water. ‘You aren’t going to drown me in it, are you?’
He stifles a laugh. ‘I wasn’t planning on it.’
I let him take the blanket away. He’s already seen me arguably in flagrante. Being naked in front of him doesn’t seem to matter after what he just saw Mav and Blake doing.
He helps me step into the tub.
‘Temperature alright?’
I nod.
‘I can do this myself, you know,’ I mutter
‘I know,’ he says easily as I lower myself into the steamy water. ‘I wanted to make sure you’re okay after that. Those two can be a little intense. And I’m guessing you’re not exactly experienced. ’
I snort. ‘Perhaps what I lack in that area I make up for in enthusiasm.’
‘I’m being serious, Daisy. They didn’t coerce you into any of that, right? You were willing?’
I tilt my head and look up at him. ‘What would you do if I wasn’t?’
‘I don’t know exactly. But it wouldn’t be pretty.’
I stare at his face, glancing into his eyes for longer than I’m usually able to allot. He looks as if he means it, but he’s Jack Novelle, The Third . He grew up in nice places, going to country clubs and soirees for the wealthy. Can I see him doing violence?
Maybe it’s because I know he got into some fights when we were kids on my behalf, but I can.
‘But they’re your friends.’
‘It wouldn’t matter.’
My lip curves upwards. ‘Same old protective Shade.’
He frowns. ‘Not quite. Lean back.’
I do as he says, at ease with him the way I used to be. He wets my hair and puts the shampoo in. He massages my scalp and uses the showerhead to rinse. And then he puts in the conditioner, which is a luxury I was denied for a long time. At The Heath, shower time was capped at two minutes. After that, they made the water go cold. I sit up when he’s finished and he hands me some soap.
‘Don’t want to do that as well?’ I ask a little sarcastically.
His grin is dark. ‘Not tonight.’
I wash myself while he watches, keeping the soap away from my grazes as best I can, and although he doesn’t touch me again, it’s oddly erotic. When I’m finished and I get to my feet, that same feeling as before courses through my abdomen. What did Blake call it?
Hot and bothered.
Shade envelopes me in a fluffy towel and begins to dry me. His movements are matter-of-fact, and his hands don’t veer into inappropriate territory.
But how appropriate is any of this?
I give him a quizzical look that he doesn’t seem to notice and when he’s done, he cracks the bathroom door and ushers me out into the empty hallway.
He takes me to my room and sits me at my desk, taking a second, smaller towel to dry my hair.
‘I always wanted to do this when we were kids,’ he murmurs.
‘What, bathe me?’ I ask with a laugh. ‘Isn’t that a little weird?’
‘No,’ he grins. ‘Touch you. Hug you. Hold your hand. But you never let me. You never let anyone. Not even your mom.’
He picks my brush up from the bureau and begins to brush my hair carefully from the bottom. I let him and find that, although it’s a bit annoying and tickles, I can bear it if he really enjoys it.
He’s silent and I wonder if he’s waiting for a response, so I give him one.
‘It was too ... much,’ I say. ‘Back then everything was too much. All the time. School and your dad’s house and all his ideas of how I should be. All the yelling. The clothes were scratchy. The shoes were uncomfortable. All the other kids were so loud, and all the girls smelled of Cabbage Patch dolls. Even the wind on my face made me not want to go outside. Can you imagine? Literally a breezy day made me want to hide in the closet.’
‘But not now?’
I wonder how much I should say. Is giving him cannon fodder to use against me really that wise? Earlier yesterday he would have sold me down the river. Today we’re best friends forever?
‘Grew up, I guess,’ I say, realizing as the words come out that that’s what I said to him the day of my mom’s funeral when we were in his car.
‘That’s it?’
That and years at The Heath where rule breaking was corrected.
‘I have my moments,’ I concede, ‘but I can do whatever I have to. It just takes a toll. I get tired. Sometimes I need time alone.’
Which is why I run.
He draws the brush down my wet hair in easy strokes. ‘I ... wanted to ask you something. It’s been bothering me for a long time.’
‘Okay.’
‘Why didn’t you want to talk to your mom?’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask, turning my head to look at him.
Why is he asking me about my mom?
‘She was really hurt when she would call and they told her you didn’t want to speak to her. She was trying to do what was right for you after ... you know.’
I turn around completely, and he stops brushing. ‘I’m sorry. I don’t understand. She never called. No one did.’
‘Daisy, she called all the time. For months. They told her you didn’t want to speak to her, that you were angry about being taken there. She sent letters and care packages. They all came back unopened. I tried calling once. I snuck into my father’s office, found the number, and called from in there. They told me the same thing.’
I feel sick.
‘They never said,’ I whisper. ‘I never had any calls or letters, not even at Christmas or on my birthday.’
‘Jesus,’ he hisses. ‘That isn’t true. Why ... why would they do that?’
Stoke. It was never a secret that he believed we should have a clean break from the outside, but I can’t help but think John had something to do with it as well. Sounds like something he’d do.
‘I don’t know,’ I lie. ‘But I wasn’t angry. I was sad, but I understood. It was better than whatever the police would have done with me. I just ... thought that she’d come back for me, you know? But she just left me there, and I never heard from anyone until I was told I was coming back here for the funeral.’
He’s quiet for a long time. ‘I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.’
I shrug. ‘It’s not your fault,’ I say.
‘I miss her,’ he says very quietly after a moment.
‘I do, too.’ I glance back at him. ‘But it’s different for me. She hadn’t been a part of my life for so long ... I think I’m more upset by what was stolen from us.’ I close my eyes. ‘Was she ... Was she happy?’
He sighs. ‘I don’t know. I think so. She had her interests. She was always there for me when I needed her. She was ...’
‘Go on,’ I murmur, almost knowing what he’s going to say.
‘She was my mom.’
He resumes the brushing, but I shy away, now. Things have shifted and I’m no longer in the right mindset for this.
‘I think it’s tangle-free,’ I say, trying not to sound as furious as I suddenly feel.
I’m not angry with Shade, not really I don’t think, but he and Andy had her when I didn’t. She was taken from me, but not from them and it isn’t fair.
‘I’d like to be alone for a bit now.’
‘Okay. I get it.’
He leaves my room and I make sure the door is closed before I slowly go back to the desk and sink down.
Sadness and anger course through me.
I stare at nothing, thinking, rolling things around and around in my head. There was a time when I thought The Heath was good for me. It was hard sometimes, but they were teaching me to be like everyone else. They were showing me all the things that normal people could do that I needed to make sure I knew, so that I could be like them.
Obviously I knew part of it was so that I wouldn’t embarrass the Novelles anymore with my behavior. Plus after what I did to Mike, I always thought that I was taken to The Heath as my punishment so that I didn’t go to jail or juvie and make things even worse for John. I figured he made a deal. He had the money to make things go his way and he was never shy about using it as far as I could see. I suppose they didn’t want me hurting anyone else either.
But the more time I’m spending out here, the more I’m realizing that there were a lot of rules at The Heath that don’t make sense out here. Why do I have to sit up straight with my hands in my lap and my ankles crossed? I haven’t seen even one person do that since I got out. Why was I always told to be so overly polite when no one seems to speak that way? Why did I have to get up at a certain time? Go to sleep at a certain time? Wasn’t allowed to yell or even talk at some times of the day? Have only certain kinds of foods, not be allowed to watch movies or TV? Why was I given consequences and punishments for not adhering to these rules that are, it’s becoming clear to me, largely inconsequential outside of The Heath?
I don’t understand. What was the point?
I look at the clock and see that it’s past midnight. I’ve been sitting here for a good couple of hours. I get rid of the towels and get into bed, closing my eyes and willing myself to sleep.
Today has been quite eventful and I’m actually pretty tired. But sleep doesn’t come. I’m feeling very uncomfortable physically. My knees, hands, and chest ache where I was attacked. And my neck is very tense which usually means I’m due a migraine.
I get out of bed and pad to the closet where I stashed my bag. The pills are in a blister pack in the zipped back on the side. There are two left. I’m glad I saved them.
I snap them out of the plastic and take them with some water from the glass by my bed left from the other night. It’s stale and gross, but it does the job.
I suppose I’ll have to go see a doctor to get some more since they’re on prescription, and that was in the UK. Over the counter paid medicines don’t usually touch my headaches, so I make a mental note to go over to the medical center next week. Even though I should probably write it down so I don’t forget, I choose sleep.
In the morning, my head is thankfully clear. I sit up and see something on the desk that wasn’t there the night before. Someone’s been in my room and I didn’t even hear them.
Heart pounding hard as I approach, I see it’s a laptop with a sticky note on top.
It’s yours. It’s newer than that one you found. Use it, take it to class, etc. The password is ‘beautiful’.
- Blake
Blake. Perhaps it’s weird that he just came in while I was sleeping, but I find that I don’t mind as I open the laptop and put in the password. He’s made me my own profile. I look up the specs and see that it’s only about a year old, and I hope that he hasn’t given me something he needs. He probably doesn’t have much money.
I sit down at my desk and change the password to a random formula I know I’ll remember because ‘beautiful’ is not very secure. Then, I make sure it’s connected to the WIFI and check my campus emails. There’s a message from Applegate’s secretary about my change of majors, and a couple detailing some more forced fun that’ll be happening over the next couple of weeks, including some Halloween stuff, which I’m excited about. England didn’t seem to be too into Halloween, at least no one was at The Heath, so I haven’t carved pumpkins or eaten caramel apples in forever.
The last email doesn’t have a subject and it’s not from an address I recognize.
I move the cursor over it so I can see the body of it without opening it. I don’t want to put a virus on the computer Blake so kindly leant me.
Do you think you can ignore me, bitch? Maybe less time getting eaten-out by those assholes and more time using your brain. I thought you had one, but maybe not. Time’s almost up, Marguerite. Better make some headway this week.
My mind stutters to a halt and the color drains from my face as I look at the time stamp. It was sent last night. The cameras... but Blake said he turned them off.
Did one of them send me this? Was Blake lying when he said no one else has seen me on camera? Have they showed the other members of the frat? Have all of them seen what happened last night?
I feel sick. I stare at the email, my mind working feverishly and snowballing as I try to glean anything from the random letters and numbers, but I think that really is all they are.
Do I confront the guys? Do I tell them what I know?
I frown at myself in the mirror.
What do I know? Only that someone is messing with me and wants me to look into my mother’s death. And that someone is getting frustrated that I’m not doing what they want. Not knowing what to think, I close the laptop quickly just as I hear a knock at my door.
‘Come in,’ I say after giving myself a moment to compose myself .
Blake comes in and I regard him coldly.
He hesitates at the door when he sees my face. ‘Everything okay?’ he asks.
‘Everything’s fine,’ I answer and, belatedly, offer a small smile that I hope is convincing.
It should be. It’s the one I’ve practiced the most, the one that got me out of my sessions at The Heath sometimes because I looked so passably ‘normal’.
I watch him visibly relax and realize that I’m noticing nuances of expression and gesture with them more now that I’m getting to know them a little. It was the same at The Heath. It took me longer than a few weeks to figure the blanks out, though. I wonder what that means? Maybe I’m getting faster at it. Though I know there’s something different about Shade, Mav, and Blake. At least for me there seems to be. I like the way they look, smell, feel. Even their voices aren’t annoying. I haven’t licked them, but if I did, would they taste good, too?
But how my senses react to them aren’t the only important things, I remind myself. What about trust?
‘Shade and I are going to grab breakfast and head to the lab. Your class doesn’t start until later, right? Wanna join us?’
‘I’d love to,’ I hear myself saying, ‘but I ...have a shift at the coffee shop.’
He doesn’t look convinced of my lie.
I put my hand on top of the laptop and feel how smooth it is. I let it ground me and I smile at him.
‘You didn’t have to give me this,’ I say.
He shrugs. ‘I got a new one before school started this year. It was just sitting in a drawer.’
‘Well, thank you,’ I say.
‘Sure. Just remember nothing from the lab goes on it though, okay? You can’t bring any of the work home.’
I nod and there’s an awkward pause as we stare at each other. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m wondering if this thing will be spying on me, too.
Though in a pragmatic sense, is being on surveillance here any different than at The Heath. Not really.
Well, except for the weirdo who keeps sending the notes and now the email.
‘Well, I guess we’ll see you later on at the lab?’
I nod.
‘Okay,’ he says slowly, giving me a confused look. ‘Hey, I’m sorry if I did anything last night that wasn’t cool.’
You mean potentially sharing explicit videos of me to my semi-stalker?
I stand up suddenly, using the burst of energy to vent my pent-up feelings.
‘You didn’t,’ I say, giving him another dose of the normal smile. ‘I’m sorry if I seem a little ... out of it. I didn’t sleep well last night.’
‘Right. Okay. See you after class later then.’
‘See you.’
He leaves and I stare after him for a moment.
I need to get on his laptop. The one in his room.
I’m not amazing with computers, but that’s mostly because my time on the one and only PC we were allowed to use at The Heath was heavily monitored. The time I did spend on it, I had to rationalize down to the minute on a timesheet and woe betide me if there were discrepancies. Plus, besides extra for the online courses I took, I wasn’t permitted to play around or explore. I know they follow a logic though, and I have some experience from before The Heath. The way they work can’t have changed that much.
I get up and slink out of my room, across the hall, and into Blake’s. I glance around, looking for the cameras, but I don’t see them. They must be well-concealed.
His laptop is on his desk and it’s open. I guess there’s nothing sensitive on it, or he’d be more careful. He doesn’t strike me as a fool.
I sit at his desk and move the cursor, frowning at the screen as I bring up the windows that are minimized.
Is this a trap? Did he think I’d come snooping?
I listen for returning footsteps but hear nothing. Though I suppose if I’m on camera, it won’t matter if he actually catches me, now. Committed, I look through everything I can see and I find that there are cameras all over the house, except for the other members’ rooms, and the bathrooms.
I watch them in every room, seeing the boys doing normal morning things. I try to memorize where the cameras are so that I can keep out of their view if I need to. Someone’s been watching me, and if they really are using the house cameras to do it, I need to stay out of them as much as possible.
But why would Blake have lied about turning them off?
I want it not to be him or one of the others. I was just beginning to trust them a little and now ... maybe they were just pretending to give up. Maybe they still don’t want me here, but they’re going about their plan in a different way.
I find nothing untoward on the laptop except for the cameras. There are only two in my room. One that shows me on the bed and the other that features the desk. I can’t really move the bed, but the desk can go on the other side of the room easily, and the camera won’t be able to see me there. I search Blake’s internet history but find nothing of note and no trace of the email address the last message came from.
Before I leave, I take a look at the video files from last night. There aren’t any in the room, just as Blake said, which confuses me even more. How did he or she know what had happened in here unless they saw it on the cameras?
I glance at the large window, trying to remember if the curtain was open last night. I go to it and move it to the side. There’s an unencumbered view down to the wooded area near the driveway. Someone could have been lurking. They might just be stalking me the old-fashioned way.
In which case, it probably isn’t one of the guys.
I go back to the laptop and I delete the files of me being in here, and then I reboot the system, so all of the cameras are off for a minute while I leave and go back to my room. I close my curtains and move my desk before I grab the laptop and put it in my bag for class.
I play with the idea of telling the guys what’s going on. The messages are more threatening. But what if I’m wrong? What if it is one of them, or all three? I don’t know what to think and I hate it.
I decide to ask Lu’s advice and come up with a plan. This person wants me to look into my mother’s death. So I will, I decide. Seriously. Maybe if they see me doing what they want, they’ll back off until I can figure out who is doing this.
The next few days are spent going to my classes and catching up with the work that I missed in the first month. Luckily, I don’t have any more problems with my fellow students. The nasty duo leave me alone, and I wonder if Mav or Blake did have a word with them after all. Now that I have a laptop and can come prepared, I keep my head down and do my work. It’s not difficult per se, there’s just a lot of it.
Between classes, homework, the lab, and my shifts at Grinder, the hours are long, and though I spend a little time with the guys, most of it is assisting in the lab. I try not to be around them on a personal level. I’m not sure how to relax with them because, in the back of my mind, I’m wondering if they’re secretly my enemies.
During the rare occasions that they ask me to hang out, and I can’t think of an excuse not to, they barely make any efforts to touch me at all. I’m a little hurt when they don’t, but I know that’s stupid, so I try not to feel the sting of rejection.
More often than not, I make sure that I’m out of the house. I pick up as many shifts as I can, which helps me afford the textbooks I need. As we get closer to Halloween, the pledges put up decorations and chat nonstop about the party that’s coming up. It’s the end of their hazing on the same night, so ten new frat brothers are going to be initiated into the brotherhood. It all sounds a little creepy and culty to me, but who am I to judge?
I research late into the nights, trying to piece together the final moments of my mom’s life the night she died, but information is sparse. And I know why. John. What I need are official police documents and the paperwork from the morgue. Lu says her cousin, who’s a receptionist at the town hall might be able to do something to help, but it’ll take a little time because she’s off work with a broken wrist and won’t be going back until November.
I don’t receive any more messages from the creeper though, so I assume they’re keeping tabs on me and must know that I’m doing something .
Just before the party, the guys get a bunch of pumpkins delivered and they have a carving contest. I want to join them. I haven’t done it since I was a kid. Even if The Heath had been big on the holiday, putting knives in our hands didn’t really align with their policies.
But I keep my distance no matter how much I’d like to do the opposite. I watch them laughing and joking with each other and it makes me realize that I miss them.
I don’t like it. It would be too easy to trust them and I can’t. I’m resolved not to go to their Halloween party at all. After last time, I’m a little wary anyway. I decide to tell them I have to study that weekend and can’t take the time, but Lu tells me this is one of the biggest parties of the year. With everyone drinking, I might find out some useful information as long as I don’t get wasted myself. I think she also just really wants to go to the party since she didn’t get to last time.
I think about it for a while, and then relent a couple of days before, deciding she’s right despite her shifty motives. I’m at a standstill with my research into Mom until Lu’s cousin goes back to work and, even then, she might not even be able to help.
An ecstatic Lu gets me an outfit, taking control of it completely after I tell her I want to dress scary. I was thinking a Viking warrior because I could borrow her ax and shield she uses for Dagorhir. She explains to me, almost angrily, and in no uncertain terms, that no one does scary anymore. That’s for kids. When you’re an adult, you have to go sexy , especially when you’re going to a frat party. She also says that I’ll get more information out of the drunk boys if I look hot, so I indulge her.
She decides that she’ll get everything together for me and makes me promise not to worry about a thing. After our shift at Grinder on Halloween, she comes with me back to the KIP house, so that we can get ready together.
On the way in, some of the guys greet me. It’s a far cry from how they treated me at the start of the year, so I make sure I say hello back and join in with their small talk a bit to build some bridges I might need later.
Up in my room, Lu sits on my bed and does some homework. I get my laptop out and go through the motions of digging a little deeper into my mom’s death. I have found out where the accident happened and Lu is going to get us a ride out there to check it out. I also found the name of the coroner who did the paperwork .
After an hour or so, Lu makes a show of looking at her phone and gets up.
‘It’s time,’ she announces. ‘You can thank me now.’
She winks as she hands me the bag she’s been so protective over, and I sigh as I pour the skimpy outfit into my bed.
She kicks off her shoes and I side-eye her.
‘You might want to get dressed in the bathroom, or over there by the desk,’ I mutter.
‘Why?’ Then, her eyes widen. ‘Oh, my GOD! No way! They ... watch you?’
‘Just trust me,’ I breathe, my eyes bulging a little at the tiny dress with the accompanying tail and ears. And the black wedges.
‘Are you sure about this?’ I ask.
‘Babe, trust me,’ Lu mutters as she wriggles into her leopard-print miniskirt and matching crop top.
I glance at the clock by the bed and decide to take a shower since we still have plenty of time before the party begins.
‘I’m gonna take a shower.’
Lu waves me away. ‘Don’t be long. I need time to work my magic!’
I grab my towel with a smile and a roll of my eyes and leave my room. I stay within the cameras’ visual ranges. I usually do when I’m walking around the house in general so that, if anyone is watching, they don’t think I know where I can and can’t be seen. A few times now, though, I’ve challenged myself to get from my room to the kitchen or the gym across the house without being caught on them.
Then, I sneak into Blake’s room just after he leaves and his laptop is still unlocked to see how I did before erasing my presence and rebooting the system. Turns out an unintended consequence of me spending my teens skulking around The Heath late at night has made me very good at being stealthy .
As I get to the bathroom, the door opens and Shade comes out wrapped in just a towel.
My eyes widen even as I avert them. All I can think about suddenly is how he washed me in the bath that night after the others ... how I wish he’d have done something with me, too.
I hear him huff a chuckle as I go to slip past him and his arms darts out, stopping me.
‘I feel like I haven’t seen you in days,’ he murmurs from very close to me.
‘I’ve been very busy,’ I say softly, looking up into his hazel eyes.