Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
“I’m home,” I said as I walked through the front door. Going to the movies tonight with my friend Liz had really uplifted my spirits and I was glad my mom had talked me into going.
Right after shutting the door behind me, I felt something was wrong. It could have been because all the hair on the back of my neck rose or because every light was off in the house. It was also quiet. Too quiet.
“Mom! Dad!” I yelled.
There wasn’t an answer.
I looked in the living room and spotted my dad lying on the couch. He seemed to be sleeping, but the large dark stain on his white shirt drew me closer. I flicked on the lamp and a scream ripped its way up my throat. I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from screaming out. Tears filled my eyes as I took in my dad’s butchered, prone body. His eyes were open, vacant depths. His arm was hanging off the side of the couch, fingers lying limp on the carpet. His entire stomach had been ripped open and his insides were pulled out.
I backed away, praying what I was seeing wasn’t real.
This wasn’t happening.
This wasn’t happening.
Someone grabbed my shoulder and my scream escaped, releasing my terror at a piercing volume.
My eyes shot open as I was mid-scream and I sat up quickly. Breathing heavily, I looked around, realizing that I had been dreaming again.
Tears dripped off my chin. I let out a pitiful sob as my hands fisted my blankets.
I wished Logan was here.
The sound of my doorbell ringing almost caused my soul to leave my body. I grabbed my phone from my nightstand to look at the time. It was almost six in the morning. Holding on to my phone, I climbed out of bed and got the gun I had hidden in my nightstand drawer.
The sun was already rising, so I didn’t need to flick on any lights as I made my way through the house toward the front door. I peeked through the peephole and saw that a very tired Creed was standing on my porch. I quickly hid my gun behind one of the couch pillows and unlocked the door.
“You’re killing me, Shiloh,” he grumbled as I opened the door. The scowl he held showed he was ready to erupt on me, but he paused when his eyes met mine.
It was then that a breeze hit my face, reminding me that it was wet. I wiped at my cheeks, sniffling. “I’m sorry I woke you, Creed.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice sounding a little tight. I couldn’t tell if it was due to him being angry or tired. He looked like he had literally rolled out of bed and stormed over here. His hair was mussed, and he was wearing a white undershirt that showed off the toned muscles in his arms and black athletic shorts.
I shook my head. “I will be.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have really bad nightmares. I thought they had stopped but since I moved here, they’ve started up again.”
He frowned. “I can hang out for a while if you want.”
My brows tried to reach my hairline. “Oh, that’s okay. I know you don’t?—”
“I wouldn’t have offered,” he snapped.
The thought of hanging out with Creed, my neighbor who may or may not have liked me, sounded slightly more appealing than being alone right now. I took a step back, opening the door wider for him to come in.
He stepped inside, eyes wandering as he took in my living room. I closed the door and moved toward the kitchen. “I’m going to make some coffee. Would you like some?”
“Yeah.” He followed me into the kitchen and took a seat on one of the two bar stools I had bought for my kitchen island.
I turned on my coffee maker and it began gurgling. As it brewed, I went over to my fridge and started pulling eggs, cheese, and sausage patties out. I glanced over my shoulder at Creed, who was silently watching me. “Do you like breakfast sandwiches?”
“Yes.”
I piled everything on the counter next to the stove and bent over to grab some pans from the lower cabinet.
“Nice PJs.”
I was wearing silk Batman pajamas. The shirt was a solid black crop top with a large yellow Batman logo on the front and the bottoms were high-waisted shorts that were patterned with the same Batman logo and had yellow drawstrings.
I set the pans on the stove. “Who doesn’t love Batman?”
I caught his small smile before I went back over to the coffee pot and poured some into a mug for him. “Cream and sugar?” I asked as I set the mug in front of him.
“Black is fine,” he said, scooping it up to take a sip.
I made myself a cup of coffee with cream and went back to work on breakfast. I decided to make enough sandwiches for Creed’s brothers, too. We didn’t talk much. Just hung out in comfortable silence.
After giving him his sandwich and sitting down next to him at the island, I watched him dig in. He took a big bite and his brows lifted as he chewed. He gave me a nod of approval and I beamed, happy that he liked it.
“Do you like cooking?” he asked.
I chuckled at the random question. “I do.”
“You smile as you cook.”
Huh. I hadn’t known I did that. “My mom was a chef,” I admitted, and when I didn’t become overwhelmed with sadness, I decided to continue on. “As far back as I can remember, she would drag me and my sister into the kitchen with her so she could show us a new recipe. My sister hated it. I loved it. To me, my mom’s passion for food was contagious.”
“Do you want to become a chef like your mom?”
“I used to.”
“What changed your mind?”
I stilled as I was bringing my sandwich up to take a bite. How could I answer that without lying? It had been stupid of me to bring up my mom in the first place, but it felt really nice to talk about her. I set the sandwich back down to my plate as I debated how to respond.
“If you don’t want to answer, you don’t have to.” His tone was nonchalant. His eyes told me different. They thankfully didn’t hold any pity. That was the last thing I wanted. In his blue depths I saw understanding. Seeing that eased my nerves and it made it a little easier to find the answer to his question.
“My family is gone,” I said in a low voice. “And with them, my dreams and passions. It wasn’t until recently that I started reintroducing myself to the things I used to love, like cooking and baking. I find that I still enjoy doing them, but it’s not the same. I mean, what’s the point in trying a new recipe when I have no one to share it with?”
Creed was quiet for a while and I was beginning to think I’d made him feel awkward. “The weight of their absence will get lighter over time,” he said. “And you won’t always be alone, Shiloh.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and finally took a bite of my sandwich.
As soon as I was finished eating, I put together the breakfast sandwiches for Creed’s brothers and packaged them up in foil for him to carry back to his house.
“Thank you,” I said as I walked him out.
“I think I’m supposed to thank you,” he said, holding up a wrapped sandwich.
“I meant for hanging out with me.”
He nodded and turned to leave. “See you at school,” he shot over his shoulder as he headed back to his house. He was walking down my drive when his brothers Keelan and Knox stepped out of their house, dressed for the gym. They spotted Creed and surprise took over their faces. Then their gazes shifted to me.
Keelan’s mouth slowly stretched into a smile. “Well, good morning, Shiloh.”
“Morning,” I said back.
Knox turned a hard look on Creed. “Did you spend the night over there?”
My cheeks burned, realizing how it must have looked for Creed to be leaving my house this early in the morning.
“No.” Creed tossed a sandwich to each of them. “Shiloh made us breakfast. It’s good. Eat it,” he told them and went into their house.
Keelan held up his sandwich. “Thanks, Shiloh!”
“Welcome!” I waved and escaped inside.
“Hey,” a voice said as I pulled my textbook for my first class out of my locker. I looked over my shoulder, finding Colt and Creed standing behind me.
I greeted them with a smile. “Hi.” I shut my locker and turned to face them.
Their eyes dropped and roamed over my outfit. I had chosen to wear a red sundress that went to my knees and had spaghetti straps. To cover my exposed shoulders, arms, and more importantly, my scars, I’d paired the dress with a long-sleeved, dark-blue-and-white polka dot, shrug cardigan. I’d taken the risk of wearing my black ankle boots with ankle socks, leaving the tops of my scars visible. I had my anklet tracker tucked under my sock. I’d made the mistake of forgetting it at home yesterday and had gotten a huge lecture from Logan last night when he had called me. Apparently, he checked the GPS while I was at school.
I caught Creed staring at the two gold star barrettes in my hair. The corner of his mouth twitched, and I had a feeling he understood the theme behind my outfit choice today.
“Is it just DC or are you into Marvel also?” he asked.
Colt’s brow furrowed as he looked from his brother to me.
I shrugged and did my best not to smile. “Maybe.”
Colt looked me over again and I saw as he had that light bulb moment. He turned to glare at Creed. “She looks cute. Why are you making fun of her?”
“I’m not,” Creed said with a bored tone. “I’ve just discovered that Shiloh has a slight obsession with superheroes.”
“Well, not just the superheroes. I like some of the villains too. No offense to the good guys, but a lot of their stories are the same song and dance. The villains, though…they’re different. More relatable, maybe? I don’t know. They’re definitely entertaining. The Joker is my favorite, followed by—” I slammed my lips closed and cringed when I realized that I’d let my inner geek surface.
Creed and Colt had been listening intently, their smiles stretching. “Who do you think played the best Joker?” Colt asked and I could have hugged him.
“Heath Ledger,” I replied.
Creed’s smile dropped. “Joaquin Phoenix played the best Joker.”
“I have to agree with Creed. Joaquin was amazing,” Colt said.
I shook my head and started walking toward our first class. “He played second best.”
Even though the twins and I bickered over the subject all the way to class, I couldn’t stop smiling.