Coraline
Igasp and almost choke on my dinner. Coughing, I reach for my water and down it fast.
The Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer? The same one from the newspaper?
“What? A serial killer?” I don’t want to believe it. It’s too shocking and too horrible. No wonder Gavin was so upset when I decorated his home with his parents’ decorations. It must remind him of them, doesn’t it?
Grief is pain that sticks with you forever; no matter how much time passes, the cut still bleeds.
“That’s awful.”
Merelyn frowns.
“Yes. Truly awful. I don’t want to talk about the details.
It was a terrible, horrible tragedy that took its toll on my Gavin.
This is the home he grew up in and the home his parents were killed in.
” She waves her hand over her head. “His mother was my best friend. Her name was Barbara. She was so beautiful. Truly an amazing friend, mother, and wife. Gone way too soon and died way too young. She didn’t deserve the way she went out.
” Her shoulders shrink. Pain is written all over her face.
“Being a mother was her entire world. She loved her son with all her heart and soul. Gavin looks a lot like her.”
“And his dad?” The word dad is a privilege. It feels bitter on my tongue to ask about the cruel man who gave his son scars. Scars he tries to hide but fails. He doesn’t deserve that title after the vile things he did to Gavin.
Her mood drops. The lines on her forehead deepen.
“He got nothing from his father but the love for the outdoors; that’s it.” By the way her tone sharpens, we share the same ideas about him.
“He told me bits and pieces about what his father would do to him, and I don’t like him.”
“Yeah, well, no one liked him. I love Gavin like my own son, and I loved Barbara like my sister. She made me promise I would be the one to care for him if anything happened to her. Somehow, she knew her time was running out.” Her eyes redden.
She stands, gathering her plate, but I grip the dish, stopping her.
“Oh, I got it, Merelyn, please sit down. I can clean up; it’s the least I can do. Dinner was absolutely delicious.”
She sighs like she doesn’t want to give in, but hands me her plate anyway.
“Fine, but I’ll help dry and put the dishes away.”
Fifteen minutes later, we’re finishing up the last dishes in the sink.
The newspaper I found in the basement keeps coming back to me.
Why does Gavin have it? Is that newspaper related to his parents’ murders?
The last thing I read was that the man was still at large. I didn’t check the publication date.
Merelyn gathers her coat and mittens to head back into her guest house. She throws the scarf around her neck. I glance at his bedroom door, wondering if whatever we have going on between us is over just as fast as it started.
“Goodnight, dear,” she says as she slowly walks to the door and places her hand on the doorknob, ready to twist it. “I really enjoy your company.”
“The Sleepy Coldwater Serial Killer,” I blurt. Merelyn freezes in her tracks.
“Was he ever found? Is he in prison?”
She turns around and looks at me like I’ve asked her something haunting. Her pink lips tilt into a small smile.
“Gavin likes you. He enjoys your company, too.”
My cheeks flush, and my lashes flutter just as butterflies swarm wildly into the pit of my stomach.
“Oh…” I tuck a hair strand behind my ear and put more distance between us. Why am I acting like a schoolgirl who got caught making out with her boyfriend during class?
“I’m sure he likes everyone,” I scoff, shaking my head. “And everyone likes Gavin.”
I’m sure Gavin likes Georgia, too, and vice versa. Why wouldn’t she? Gavin is undeniably handsome and kind when he wants to be. Everything about this man radiates temptation and disastrous sin in all the best ways. He can be an ass, but his heart of gold outshines his brooding ways.
I walk toward the fireplace in an attempt to hide my lust.
“No, dear, not everyone.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I see the way he looks at you.”
My brows pull in together.
“How does he look at me?”
She opens the door and takes one step out.
“Like he’s finally found his reason to live again. Maybe even leave Sleepy Coldwater for good like he’s always wanted. Like I want him to. He needs to go but won’t because of me.”
“I don’t think he would ever leave this town. He loves it here.”
“Loved it here,” she corrects me.
“Why doesn’t he leave?”
“I think he may be too afraid.”
“Why would he be afraid? Wait, Merelyn. I’m seeing things around the cabin.”
“Seeing what?” She asks, bewildered.
Biting my lip, I hesitate for a moment. I feel crazy for what I’m about to say, but screw it.
“Ghosts?” I say it like a question.
She looks puzzled, confusion flashing across her eyes.
“I’ve seen a woman in my bathroom and a man in the kitchen. I feel like I’m going crazy here. Maybe it’s a symptom of hitting my head too hard in the car wreck? I don’t know.” I huff, frustrated. “But there’s something paranormal going on.”
Merelyn glances away.
“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know what to say or do to help. There’s no other man but Gavin here. I haven’t seen any ghosts...” She shrugs, trailing off, looking genuinely concerned for me.
“But Coraline?” she blurts before I can get a chance to finish. I noticed she’s dodging questions and information, but I don’t press. I think she’s shared more than enough, and I don’t want to step on her toes.
“Yes?” My pitch heightens calmly.
“Don’t ever go back into the basement.” She says it like it’s a threat—a stern order—a non-negotiable demand.
She closes the door, leaving me with more unanswered questions.
Maybe I’m reading way too much into it, but I still think the serial killer question is essential.
Why did he target his parents? What if he’s still around? Or what if the person who ran me off the road is actually a serial killer copycat?
No…that’s unbelievable.
It can’t be.
Closing my eyes, I run both of my hands through my hair, trying to make sense of all of this. That same freezing draft from when the basement window was open brushes against my skin. But I know it’s not that because I closed it.
I swipe at my forehead as I break out into a cold sweat. I hold onto my arms as I look around the living room, surveying the leather couch, the fireplace, and lastly the kitchen, but nothing is out of the ordinary. Nothing and no one. No fluttering streaks of figures. No woman with long black hair.
And suddenly, that same feeling of being watched is back, and I know I’m not alone. The most pressing question is…is it a person with a beating heart, or a disappearing phantom lurking?
The sound of a loud boom tightens my chest. I scream, whipping my head toward the origin. My whole body tightens, then loosens, once I see it’s not a threat. It’s Gavin. I’m safe.
“You scared me!” I scold him.
He locks the door behind him and stares at me like I’m a lunatic. He stands in the corner of the living room, with his cowboy hat and boots, and shrugs off his coat. Then smiles.
“Let’s play a game, sweetheart.”
“Truth or dare?” He hands me a bottle of tequila as Ella Langley plays softly on his radio.
We’re both sitting across from each other, taking shots straight from the bottle.
It stopped burning after the first three takes.
I’m buzzing, feeling loose. I’m not a drinker, but when Gavin offered, I didn’t hesitate.
I smile.
“Truth.”
“I want to see you naked.”
I tilt my head to the side with a smirk.
“You’re joking.” I scoff out a laugh, but his face is colder than ice. “Well, that was bold of you, honest, and bold.” I shiver. “I’m not getting naked. I’m—”
“Married,” he clips with a deep tone.
I can’t handle it when Gavin stares at me the way someone stares at a shooting star—captivation and admiration glimmer in his expression.
He’s watching me, without even blinking.
Even when he lifts the bottle to his lips again, he doesn’t blink, as if he doesn’t want to miss one moment.
I brush my hair behind my ears. A man like Gavin couldn’t possibly be into me.
Men like him have ladies throwing themselves at him, but something about Gavin tells me he’s different.
“And that’s not ‘a truth’. It’s a dare. You’re playing this wrong.” His hand springs forward, like he’s motioning me to stop talking.
“It’s a truth, sweetheart. I said, I want to see you naked. No. Not your body. Show me your soul. Your fears. Your joys. Your ambition. The darkness you’re ashamed of and the sins you try to run away from.”
The fire crackles grow louder, matching my flustered blood bumping in my ears. I was not expecting him to say that.
“So, I’m going to ask again. Let me see you naked, Cora. I want the real you. If that’s the last thing I receive before you leave this cabin, I want to see the true you, not the woman masking her pain. I’ve caught sight of her before, but now I want to see every other version of you.”
I sag against the floor as Gavin stays seated in front of me with his legs stretched out in front of him.
“Pretty straightforward and blunt of you.” I exhale a heavy breath, trying to mask how this man makes my heart flutter. If he wants every version of me, then I want his, too.
“Fine. But only if you do the same. Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine, kind of a deal?” I offer an ultimatum.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you want to talk about your parents? Why do you not want me going into the basement?” His hands tremble. “Forgive me for asking, but I’d like to know,” I murmur.
“Ask me something else.” He blinks at me.
“Fine.” I look around his cabin and sigh. “Would you ever live somewhere else that isn’t this haunted cabin?”
He shakes his head.
“I’ve lived here my entire life. Merelyn is here. When I joined the military, I didn’t come back here for fifteen years. Now that I’m here, I haven’t been given a reason to leave.”
“So if you find a reason to leave, would you?”
He replies with silence and a soul-searching gaze.
“Well, don’t you want to see the world?”