Beautifully Broken (8 page)

A car honked, and the sensation ruptured. The world reverted to the clamor of conversation and the crunch of tires on gravel. Trent freed his hand from mine.

My hand was left shaky and cold. My senses turbulent and tumbling. There was a fierce attraction between us—no other way to explain it. From the way he breathed in sharply through his nose and looked at me with a puzzled expression, I knew he’d felt the instant connection too. Should I say anything? Would he? Or would he go totally dude on me and not mention the moment we’d shared.

He inclined his head, still standing close, and his minty breath mingled with mine. “What are you doing next weekend? I can give you a tour of the house. I have Saturday free,” he added, shuffling his feet. This close, I could see his eyes were actually an extraordinarily bright green, like leaves of ivy.

My heart did a little flip. “Yeah, sure. That would be good.”

“Sweet. I’ll hit you up about eleven. I gotta bounce.” He waved and smiled before strolling off to his Mustang, parked along the red painted curb. Smart, yeah. Nice, yeah. But still majorly cocky. But I couldn’t help the grin that covered my face. Trent Donovan had just asked me out on a date!

Glancing over at my parents, I caught Dad staring at me, his eyebrows creased. His olive complexion was sun-darkened and worn into a rough leather guise by the wind. He took a step forward, as if coming over to tell me something, but Sheriff Boyd caught his arm and pulled him back. Whatever he wanted to tell me, I supposed it could wait.

I looked back at Trent and a weird shiver touched my spine, making me huddle deeper in my sweater. I looked around. No shadows. No whispers. But I couldn’t get rid of the spooky feeling that someone—
or something
—was watching.

CHAPTER NINE

All week I obsessed about my upcoming date with Trent. By Friday, my incessant babble reached epic proportions. I’d almost even forgotten that it was my birthday. Truthfully, I could care less—in little more than twenty-four hours, I was going out with Trent. Trent with the smoldering eyes (yeah, I’m a total girl) and wide shoulders. Trent with the brilliant smile and charming habit of sweeping the hair from my face. Trent with the electrifying touch. Sigh.

In the bathroom at school before first period, I was driving Ariana and Jada beyond nuts, unable to stop talking, even under Jada’s harsh glare.

“I still don’t know what I’m gonna wear.
Ohmygod
, what will we talk about? What if we can’t think of anything to talk about? Do you guys think he
like
likes me? What if he changes his mind by Saturday and calls off our date?” I chewed my bottom lip.

Leaning over the sink, Jada applied lipstick, drawing a pouty red mouth. Ariana stood next to her, brushing her hair, while listening to me babble. Finally, Ariana threw up her hands. Jada snorted. In the mirror, I saw them glance at each other and roll their eyes.

“Enough!” Ariana stuffed the hairbrush into her purse and turned to me. “Stop with the over stressing.”

“I should laugh at his jokes. Guys like that, right?” I asked, pacing in front of the stalls. “Maybe I could change. You know, not be, well,
me.
I talk too much and tend to ramble.”

Jada shook her head. “White girls can be so insecure!” she teased. “Or maybe you could just be Shiloh. The girl we all know and love.”

“Yeah,” Ariana added. “He’ll see your big heart, and he’ll like
you
—for you.”

“I’m sorry. Listen to me obsessing about a guy I just met. Stupid, huh?”

“No. Not stupid,” Jada said. “We all do it. But
in
our heads.”

I laughed. “Okay—okay! I’ll stop.” I put my arms around each of their shoulders and pulled them into a group hug. “I love you guys.”

The bathroom door banged open and we parted, ignoring the awkward freshman standing in the doorway. The bell rang for sixth period.

“Wait, I have something for you,” Ariana said, pulling out a pink envelope from her backpack. “Happy birthday.”

She’d remembered! Ever since my family had disintegrated during my tenth birthday party, I didn’t expect much on my birthday. But Ariana always tried to make me feel special. I took the card and opened it. Inside was a birthday card with pink roses. “Thanks! I can’t believe you remembered.” I gave her quick hug. “ You know I’m not having the party until July, right? Because my grandparents can’t come until then. It sucks—”

“We’ll totally be there. No worries. Is your dad still taking you to your driving test after school today?” Ariana asked. At my nod, she added, “That’s all that matters. We’ll party hard in July. Driving is way more important than a birthday party.”

“We should get to class,” Jada said. We said goodbyes and went our separate ways

I spent all day in la-la land, working to focus my attention on my studies, but not succeeding. After school, Dad drove me to the DMV, where I aced my driving test. After a typical silent dinner, I excused myself, still excited about my date with Trent. I needed to relax or I’d be a wreck on Saturday. In my room, I locked the door and read the grimoires until I fell asleep.

On Saturday morning, I wanted to look cute for my first date with Trent, so I slipped on a white tank with a mauve vest over it, added a jean skirt and my favorite hot-pink boots, covering my arms with a long-sleeved crocheted sweater. Some things never change. Then I dabbed face glitter at the corner of each eye. Even though I was still a little apprehensive about Ravenhurst, I knew it would be a good idea to check out the place I’d be spending most of my summer. Haunted or not. At least I’d be with Trent.

When he picked me up, on time, which totally surprised me, I nearly drooled. Sooo cute. I felt awkward in the car at first, but Trent had a million things to talk about, so there never was that uncomfortable silence I’d been so stressed about earlier. I didn’t want him to feel weird, so I didn’t mention I’d just had a birthday. As we drove, tension eased from my body, and I couldn’t wipe the goofy smile that plagued my face.

During the day, Ravenhurst appeared less threatening, but still had a major creep factor. The sprawling mansion loomed high and wide, casting a shadow over the destitute estate. Ivy hugged the gate, which moaned open to allow us admittance. Under the cloud-filtered daylight, I could see that the four-story structure was bursting with Gothic architectural characteristics, turrets, stained-glass windows, cupolas, and cornices; its towers peaked above the staggered trees. Broken gutters hung loose and shutters flapped in the wind. On either side of the long gravel driveway towered thirteen oak trees, creating a tree alleyway. Beautiful, but eerie.

Ah, can you say Amityville Horror?

How I hated living in a coastal town. The ground fog was thick and impenetrable. Sunlight percolated through the dense jumble of oaks and pines. Not good. Sunny days were safer. No shadows to be anxious about. Gloom? Not so good.

Trent parked in the driveway, jumped out, and opened my door. I suppressed a smile. Quite the gentleman. Then I looked at the house. I mean,
really
looked at the house.

“Wow. You’re rich. Like
super
friggin’ rich.”

“Try not to hold it against me,” he said with a laugh, closing the car door.

We walked through tall tangles of weeds. Shadows hung like curtains from the towering oaks. Countless leaves, scattered by the wind, heavily covered the porch and crunched under foot. We ducked beneath the branches of ancient oaks, stepped over twisted and mangled roots, and marched past a dilapidated black Plymouth Fury brooding in the unruly grasses. We marched up the steps. I glanced back at the car with a smile. “Hello Christine.”

Trent stood before the oak doors of beveled glass. He glanced over his shoulder. “A King fan, huh?”

“Who isn’t?”

I tripped, but Trent caught me. He turned to stare down into my face. “Ya know? I’m glad you could hang out today.”

His cocky smile made my heart knock against my ribs. “Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because I figured you’d appreciate a tour. Being a future architect and all.” He frowned. “Was I wrong?”

Uh, yes! You big dummy. I like you. Is this not a date? Because I wanted to spend the day with you, not your spooky old house. God, your lips are so kissable—

 
“No.” I kicked at the grass with my boot. “Is Mr. Evans here?”

Trent lounged against the splintered porch rail. “Nope. He’s finishing another project in Castro Valley today. He won’t be back until later tonight. Just you and me.”

My eyes took in the terrain, the untamed front garden. The grass stirred. Black bodies slipped between the shadows cast by the trees, hiding from the filtered sun.

“Do you mind helping with a few chores while I give you the grand tour? Don’t want you to get lost on your first day.”

“It depends.” I attempted to sound nonchalant. “Knowing me, I probably would get turned around. This place is wicked monstrous.”

 
“You have no idea.” Trent searched the pockets of his untucked shirt for the key. The sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong forearms. He looked extra hot in his signature bad-boy, borderline Goth look, with his faded jeans and black boots. Spiky and tousled hair. Snug black shirt. Hard to believe this guy attended one of the most prestigious prep schools in northern California. Hard to believe he wanted to spend time with me.

Trent inserted the key into the lock and pushed open the door with a resounding thud that echoed throughout the mansion. He entered, but I hesitated on the porch. Dry, crackling leaves chased him inside. The interior looked dark and damp. Broken cobwebs floated freely. The open doorway threw sunlight onto the unpolished, hardwood floors. In the foyer hung three gigantic chandeliers. Their illumination revealed peeling wallpaper and silhouettes previously covered by pictures. Fresh air replaced the stuffiness trapped within the rooms. Faded, moth-ridden sheets covered furniture now drowning in dust. I watched him cross the foyer and disappear to the left.

Oh, quit being such a frightened, clutching-at-your-clothes kinda girl. Remember, you need this job. Don’t let anything discourage your ambitions. It’s just a house! Cowboy up, Shiloh!

“Are you coming or what?” Trent called.

“Be right there.”

Blowing out a breath, I steeled myself and stepped into the entrance hall. I surveyed the enormous rooms. Somber portraits stared at me beneath layers of dust, penetrating my being with their blank eyes. Cold, hesitant light streamed through a cracked window, casting spooky shadows on the walls. Heavy drapes cloaked the rooms in darkness, as if sunlight dare not enter. The stony faces of the paintings seemed to open their mouths and silently shout, “
Turn back
.” But I forced my legs to move. Shadows swirled around my feet, sucking me into the dark innards of the house.

The foyer was immersed in darkness. Something brushed my arm. I turned, but nothing was there. Wind whistled through the cracks in the house and it sounded like laughter to my freaked mind. A low chuckle broke my thought process. My body whipped around. Nothing. I moved forward, further into the labyrinth. “Trent?”

I knew in my gut the slumbering evil that I’d heard so much about had awakened.

I spotted Trent in the parlor and the unease lessened. My heart slowed. He gave me a look, one eyebrow cocked upward. In the dabbled sunlight, even with that arrogant grin on his face, he looked sublimely gorgeous…safe. Not a ghost. Just Trent. I stared at his lips. Intense emotions washed over me like a wave lapping against a jagged shore. My first impulse was to go to him and fling my arms around him. All I wanted was to be wrapped tenderly in his embrace. Feel those bulging muscles against my skin. Strength. Protection. Like how my dad used to make me feel protected until I started seeing paranormals and he didn’t believe me.

That’s crazy
, right
? I didn’t even know him. Yet.
Sheesh, I was a total lust bunny!

Trent removed a sheet from a table. Dust rose to the ceiling and I fanned the air with one hand. The stale air resettled and filled my lungs, igniting a coughing fit.

Trent started to open the windows, but I noticed the large room remained shadowy and dim despite the open curtains. Odd.

“I won’t make you get all dusty,” Trent said, “but maybe you could open the windows and let the fresh air in.”

Whew. No way am I removing dusty sheets and sneezing all over the guy I’m crushing on.

Trent continued to remove the sheets while I threw open drapes and windows and let light and fresh air flood into the rooms. Sneezing loudly, I followed him into the adjoining room, gawking at the Tiffany lamps, marble fireplaces, and antiques. Even in shambles, Ravenhurst still illustrated wealth. On my way to the next window, I tripped on the Oriental rug and bumped into a grandfather clock, getting caught in a sticky spider web. I let out a yelp.

At Trent’s quizzical look, I said, “Ewww, spiders!” I fake shuddered. “I hate spiders. They’re super creepy, with all those long hairy legs. Thousands of eyes. How do they not bug you?” I burst out laughing. “Get it? Bug you?” Leaning against the wall, I attempted to gather my poise, not even caring that I’d just acted like a total dork. Or that I’d lumped arachnids in with insects. Way to impress a smart guy.

“Yeah, I get it.” He raised a brow, his gaze lingering on my mouth. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

I stopped giggling. He flashed a sexy smile, then moved closer. The heat from his body flowed into mine. His nearness forced me to repress a shiver. His gorgeous eyes, so vivid they looked like emeralds, sparkled impishly. He touched my upper arms with the tips of his fingers.

Damn he’s wicked hot. And I like him. Really like him. Hopefully it isn’t one sided.

“I wish we’d met sooner. It’s so effing boring in this backwards town. And you’re like the coolest person I’ve met.”

Wait, what’s Trent saying?

“Me? Are you sure you have the right girl, Donovan?”

He bobbed his head. “Duh. You’re snarky and weird. I like you.”

Floorboards above us creaked and groaned like footsteps. I heard a squeaky door slam closed somewhere upstairs. An instant tingling hit the pit of my stomach. I froze, listening, no longer focusing on Trent telling me he liked me. A sob came from the vaulted ceiling.

“Did you hear that?” I asked, shivering.

“That pesky cat meowing?” Trent ripped a dingy sheet from an armchair.

A cat, Shiloh. That’s all the sound was. A cat. Not paranormals ready to attack. Dust motes zipped up my nose, and I sneezed super loud. I stepped over to a window and wrenched it open. On the grass below sat an adorable Siamese kitten. “Aw, it’s a kitten, Trent. Can we let her in?”

Trent wagged his head, throwing up his hands. “Sure. There’s milk in the kitchen. I’ll be right back.”

I leaned out the window and lifted the kitten. She purred and I rubbed her soft fur against my cheek, tension that had snapped my spine straight when I’d heard the eerie cry easing with the each rumbling purr. “Ah, poor baby. Are you hungry?” She loudly meowed.

Trent returned with a bowl of milk and set it on the floor. I lowered the kitten and watched her greedily lap the milk.

“She’s cute,” Trent said. “What should we name her?”

The ball of grey fluff raised her head, licking
 
white drops off her mouth.

“Charm.” I hoisted the kitten and cuddled her in my arms.

Trent scratched her under her white chin. “Charm?”

“Yeah. It’s perfect.”

He scratched the cat behind her ears. “I’d rather have a dog,” he teased.

“Shhh, Charm will hear you.” I covered the cat’s pointy ears with my hands.

Trent grinned, taking the kitten from my arms and surprising me by kissing Charm’s head. He set her on the floor and grasped my hand. “Come on.” Then turned back, “Here kitty, kitty.”