Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Spooky Shit
T he antique store had a certain feel to it at night. Nelle knew the place was haunted just based on the items. But when you stepped back and considered everything… even the building itself. Built back in the 1800’s. Used as a farmhouse. Then used for medical services. Then used as the caretaker’s house for a fucking cemetery…
Oh, yeah. The cemetery. The one you couldn’t see when you walked across it because for some reason all the headstones had been removed.
Apparently some shady businessman bought the property and wanted to sell it for a big profit so he removed the headstones. The man swore he had the bodies properly exhumed and buried elsewhere, but that was total bullshit.
How did Nelle know this? Last year she stumbled across a story about the property and fell down a rabbit hole. She ended up recording a four-part series, each video posted on a Monday in October, prime for spooky season, which resulted in a ton of views, shares, and people using her videos to make their own, comparing and contrasting what was real versus fake. Those videos sort of set up for what became this year of videos that made decent money to keep Bucky happy.
Nelle was used to creaks, cracks, groans and moans around the building. It was old. The wood was tired. The slightest of breezes rattled the windows. And sometimes objects… well, they just fell over. Nelle made her peace with it a long time ago.
There was one doll she refused to touch. Her name was Bethy and she sat on the top shelf, on a wall, but at least ten times a year Bethy would fall off the shelf.
In other words, those were common noises for Nelle. The uncommon noise—the one that woke her from a sound sleep—was the sound of something outside.
Ghosts pissed about their headstones missing?
Zombies climbing up from the dirt ready to eat some brains?
Nelle climbed out of bed, walked to the window and looked out. The land was flat, clear, totally normal looking unless someone told you the ground was filled with dead bodies. Well, skeletons now…
She knew she heard something. Or did she sense it? Or maybe it was grief. Or PTSD. Something waking her up, wanting her to sit alone and sit in her feelings.
Truthfully, she half expected Slade and the rest of the bikers to chase her down. She defied Slade’s rule to stay put. She said fuck it and snuck out of the clubhouse and the lot, then walked to her car and drove back to the antique store.
A shower. Some pillow humping. Then sleep. Until now.
If the bikers hadn’t come for her by now…
Things have to be good then. Or at least settled. I have nothing to do with them. They have nothing to do with me.
The thoughts made sense. Plus, if the opportunity ever arose, she had a hell of a story to share with people. The time she got super drunk, ended up in the clubhouse of Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West and threw up on one of the biker’s shoes! And then that biker stripped her naked and showered her! And then she slept in that biker’s bed!
That’s when Nelle frowned and felt an ache in her heart. The kind of story she thought about was the exact one she would have loved to share with Thalia and Calista.
Thalia would giggle like crazy. She’d blush. Calista would go nuts for it. She would live for a moment like that. That’s why Thalia ended up serving pizza and Calista ended up serving her vagina to rock stars. Nelle swallowed hard and covered her face with her hands.
I did all I could, Sisters. I kept my promise as long as I could. I have no idea how this happened…
They found you both.
And if they found you…
Nelle sucked in a breath and chased away all emotion. Emotion was bullshit. Emotion led to big problems.
She walked out of her bedroom and down the narrow hallway toward the kitchen area. When she looked out the small window above the kitchen sink and jumped up on her toes, Nelle swore she saw a slight flicker of light. Off in the distance.
A ghost looking for its loved one!
Nelle rolled her eyes. She didn’t believe in ghosts. Or zombies. Or any of the nonsense macabre stuff. The Bethy doll thing though? Whatever. This was much more important.
Nelle hurried out of the apartment and downstairs into the antique shop. She froze, wondering what to do. Was someone here to rob the antique shop? Or was someone here for her?
“Fuck,” Nelle growled under her breath.
She gently opened the door to the antique shop and walked from the back storage area to the front. Straight ahead, near the front door…
Another light!
Her body froze for a second. Another rush of adrenaline hit her. Fight or flight took hold. This was probably the moment to take flight but she chose fight for some reason.
Nelle ran through the antique store, down the messy middle aisle. She knew where to jump and skip, so as to not trip over anything or break it. When she got to the front door of the antique store, she pushed at the handle. Everything was still locked. Nelle even pushed and pulled a few more times just to make sure.
Locked. Officially. Yes.
She leaned forward a little, almost pressing her face against the glass. She could see outside. For a split second, Nelle saw something and knew exactly what it was. Brake lights. The passenger door of a car opening. Someone getting into the car. The car driving away.
Nelle refused to blink. She knew what she saw. She knew what she felt.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
Nelle shut her eyes. Her heart raced.
That’s when she knew she would end up with Slade again.