The Deepest Cut (17 page)

Read The Deepest Cut Online

Authors: J. A. Templeton

Tags: #General Fiction

Here we go again
, I thought to myself, steadying for Laria’s arrival.

The journal slipped from my fingers.

It wasn’t Laria. It was my mom.

She looked beautiful, younger than I remembered; her skin soft and so smooth. She wore a white flowing gown and looked like an angel.

“Mom,” I said, the single word little more than a whisper. I stared at her, taking in features I had long forgotten about. Since her death, I had refused to look at pictures of her since it made me too depressed. But the way she looked now reminded me of a picture

that had been taken shortly after she’d met my dad when they were college students. The picture had been taken at a senior camping trip to Lake Shasta, California. It was my favorite photo—one Dad kept on a shelf in his office.

“You must not trust Ian MacKinnon, Riley,” she said, her voice intense, almost cold.

“What?” I said, stunned at what I was hearing. “Ian is my friend.”

“Hear me well—he is not who he says he is. He is dangerous and you must stay away from him.”

I opened my mouth and she disappeared, just like that. Gone as fast as she’d come.

Tears burned my eyes. “Mom?” I said, the single word coming out as a croak.

Nothing but silence.

What the hell?

I bit the inside of my lip until I tasted blood. Why would she come now only to tell me not to trust Ian?

With anger, sadness and confusion consuming me, I went to my dresser drawer, ripped it open and found the pair of red socks where I kept my razors.

I thought of the promise I’d made to Shane. Of the promise I’d made to myself, and Ian too. He had told me I was strong…but I didn’t feel strong, especially now.

I yanked the socks from the drawer, pulled the matchbox out, and tossed the socks aside.

Just one small cut, I reasoned, walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind me.

Chapter 22

Something tickled my nose, and I brushed at it with the back of my hand.

The tickling continued.

Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself looking into intense blue eyes, framed by long, thick lashes. My heart gave a jolt. Ian lay beside me, a devilish grin on his handsome face and a feather in his long-fingered hand.

I smiled as I stared into his amazing eyes—until the memory of my mom’s visit came back with a vengeance. I had cried myself to sleep after she’d appeared and then vanished just as quickly. Too many emotions still raced through me. I couldn’t understand why, after all this time, she had finally come to me…only to drop a bombshell and tell me not to trust Ian. Did I have this all wrong?

Was Ian really who he said he was or had I fallen in love with a dark spirit?

Ian’s smile faltered and his hand dropped to the comforter, the feather forgotten.

“What’s wrong, Riley?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat.

“My mom came to visit.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your mom? Did you have another séance with Miss Akin and Anne Marie?”

“No, I was reading the journal and my mom appeared before my eyes.”

He immediately looked skeptical. I didn’t need skepticism right now. It had been a year since I’d seen her and why had she come now? Was it because she felt I was in danger?

“What did she say?”

I sat up, brought my knees to my chest.

He sat up, too, very slowly, watching me closely. I know I couldn’t read his mind, but I could read his face. He was hesitant, unsure of what to say to me.

The question was why?

And what about the dream I’d had the other night with the cloaked figures, particularly the figure who had tried to kill me. It
had
been Ian.

Perhaps that dream had been a warning from my mother, instead of Laria trying to brainwash me into believing Ian was fooling me. I was so confused.

“Riley, do you trust me?” Ian’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. I’d never seen him look so serious…or worried.

I wanted to trust him more than I’d ever wanted anything.

And yet, how could I ignore my mother’s warning? Why else would she come to me now, unless I really was in danger?

I saw the pain in Ian’s eyes as I hesitated answering him, but I wouldn’t lie. In fact, I knew he could read my thoughts, so he didn’t even need to hear it from me.

“I swear to you, everything I have said is the honest-to-God truth, Riley. I have no

need to lie to you. You are my friend, and I tell you now that the spirit you saw was not your mother. I am sure of it.”

I rolled off the bed, crossed my arms over my chest. “It
was
my mom, Ian. I saw her with my own eyes!”

He pressed his palms together and sighed heavily, tapping his index fingers against his lips.

I thought of the nightmare, of the horror I had felt surrounded by those cloaked figures. I wanted Ian to see exactly what I had seen, to feel what I felt, so I grabbed his hands. “Explain this,” I said, pushing the creepy dream at him.

When he saw himself cloaked and holding the knife up, ready to plunge it into my chest, he flinched.

Then his arms were around me, pulling me close. “I swear on my mother’s soul I would never hurt you,” he whispered against my forehead. “Laria is sending you those

dreams and thoughts in order to turn you against me. That’s what she wants more than anything. I believe it was she who came to you earlier in your mother’s form.”

Which meant my mom really hadn’t come to me. I wanted to scream my rage from the top of my lungs.

“I know you want to believe it was her, but you must trust me in this.”

I knew from experience that Laria would stop at nothing to keep me from helping Ian pass over—even come to me as my mom.

What a cruel, twisted bitch.

I settled against him, burying my face in the crook between his shoulder and neck.

His hands moved up and down my back, coming to rest at my hip, and he kissed my forehead. He made me feel cherished and loved, and I feared losing these moments.

“You must do something for me,” he whispered.

I swallowed hard, terrified of what he was about to ask. “I’ll try.”

“When your mum comes to you again and shows herself, ask her a question only the two of you would know the answer to. See what her response is. If she can answer you truthfully, then you have cause to believe it is she. If she cannot answer you, then it isn’t her. But you must be sure to keep the answer from your mind at all times, so she cannot read your thoughts and guess the correct answer.”

He lifted my chin as he stared at me. “If I could, I would bring your mom to you, you know that, don’t you?”

Touched that he was so concerned, I nodded and managed a smile. I felt exhausted from lack of sleep and from constantly being on edge. My mom’s sudden appearance had been the final straw.

“Will you stay with me for a while?” I asked, desperate to feel his arms around me as I slept.

“Of course,” he said, looking relieved by the request.

“Don’t go anywhere. I need to wash my face and brush my teeth.”

He nodded, and sat back down on the bed. “I’ll be right here.”

In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet.

Cupping my hands beneath the cool water, I started splashing water on my face. The matchbox with the razorblades inside sat in the bottom of the wastebasket. I hadn’t cut earlier, and instead had thrown the blades away, but the urge to cut still pulled at me.

Would I always have this urge? I wondered.

Would I be like an alcoholic constantly fight-ing the desire to drink?

I had promised too many people I would stop, and I needed to move forward with my life. Cutting was only holding me back. I

reached for a towel, wiped off my face and looked into the mirror. I instantly noticed something odd—a dark spot near my pupil, and as I leaned in, the green irises were turning a dark brown…and my blonde hair was turning brown.

Icy fear slid along my spine.

Laria’s face stared back at me, transposed over mine. The corners of her mouth lifted in a wicked smile that chilled me to the bone, but I tried hard not to react. She had messed with me for too long, and had gone too far when she’d manifested as my mom.

“Stop it,” I whispered, but the image didn’t fade.

I put my hands over my eyes. “Leave me alone, Laria.”

Her laughter rushed through me, all around me, so loud I nearly screamed.

“Riley?” Ian walked straight through the bathroom door, his expression intense as his

arms came around me, hugging me from behind.

Laria’s energy was still with us but fading fast. I heard a sound, and Ian must have heard it too, because he straightened and put me at arm’s length.

The tune started soft, familiar, but not in a good way, and then I heard the chant from my nightmare. “Do you hear it?” I asked, my fingers gripping his arms.

He nodded. With a resigned sigh, he released me and stepped back into my bedroom. I was right on his heels.

“Be gone, Laria,” he said wearily. “Leave Riley and her family alone. This is our war, not hers.”

The chanting stopped immediately.

“What really happened between the two of you?” I asked, the question eating at me since reading the journal and finding nothing that eluded to anything more than a crush. “I mean, what kind of a relationship

did you have for her to go so ballistic? Were you lovers?”

“No. She was a servant and a friend, but nothing more. God’s truth, I never touched her, Riley. Ever. Not even a kiss.”

The words hadn’t left his mouth when the glass on my bedside table flew towards me.

The glass shattered against the door, landing in a thousand pieces onto the wood floor. If Ian hadn’t of pushed me out of the way, it would have hit me; maybe even killed me since the bottom was so thick and heavy.

I heard a startled yelp from downstairs, and then footsteps headed my way. “Riley,”

Miss Akin yelled, knocking on the door. She sounded winded. “Are you alright, my dear?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, Miss A. I just tripped on the rug and the glass flew out of my hand.”

“It sounded like it hit the wall.”

“The door, actually. Sorry, it slipped from my fingers.”

The door started to open, but I stopped it with my foot. “There’s glass everywhere, and I don’t want you stepping on the shards. I’ll take care of it. Can you get the broom and dustpan for me?”

“Of course, my dear. Don’t you move, and be careful not to cut yourself. I’ll be back in a jiff.”

A second later I heard her heading down the stairs.

Ian stood behind me, and he was touching my hair. Despite the fact I had a maniac ghost trying to kill me, I couldn’t deny the pleasure that rushed through me at such a simple touch. He was the only sanity in my otherwise crazy-ass world.

“She’s coming back,” I said, bending over and picking up the big pieces of glass on the floor.

He went down on his haunches beside me.

“Don’t waste your energy helping me,” I said, wanting him to stay with me tonight. I needed his companionship and his strength, especially with Laria becoming so aggressive.

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

Easier said than done
, I thought, as Miss Akin tapped on the door.

I opened the door and she stepped into the room with broom and dustpan in hand.

“Tsk, tsk. You have bare feet, girl. What are you thinking? Go sit down and get off the floor before you cut your feet.”

I did as she asked and sat down on the edge of the bed while she cleaned up. “You need to be more careful. You gave me such a fright—I nearly had a heart attack thinking it was that Laria character.” She gave a shiver.

“It sounded like that glass hit the wall with force. It would have packed quite a punch had it hit you instead.”

“A good thing it didn’t then,” I said, feeling Ian lay on the bed behind me. The bed

shifted slightly, and I watched Miss Akin closely to see if she’d noticed, but apparently she hadn’t.

Ian touched my back, drawing a lazy finger along my spine. Gooseflesh rose all over my body. He wrote a letter, then another, and I quickly realized he was spelling my name. I wanted to turn and smile, or say my name aloud, but I didn’t want to let on to Miss Akin that he was with us.

“Are you alright, lovie?” Miss Akin asked, glancing at me in a strange way.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Even my voice sounded funny. Huskier.

She walked into the bathroom, and a second later I heard the pieces of glass hit the wastebasket. My stomach tightened knowing the blades were in the matchbox. I so didn’t need an intervention right now.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief when she returned with a wet towel and wiped the floor with it. “You’ve been so quiet these past

few days, I was beginning to worry about you. Worried that Laria isn’t leaving you alone.”

“I’ve just been hanging out and talking on the phone with friends.”

“So…are you any closer to helping the young MacKinnon?”

“I think so.”

“I think you must do so quickly,” she said, her voice intense. “My intuition tells me that sooner versus later is the best route to take.

Does that make sense?”

I nodded, and behind me Ian went very still.

“Remember, Anne Marie will assist you if she can.”

“I know.” She dried the floor and stood. “I know you know this, Riley…but just remember, dear, that he is not of this world any longer.”

I wondered if Anne Marie hadn’t been able to read me like a book during my visit to

her house and reported back to Miss A. That, or maybe Miss Akin’s intuition was right on the money. Whatever the case might be, I wanted her to stop talking right now, to warn her that the guy she was talking about was right behind me, listening to every word.

“And he deserves to spend eternity in the next life, wherever that might be. It wouldn’t be fair to keep him here with you, no matter how much you like him.”

I swallowed past the lump that had mys-teriously formed in my throat. Talk about ruining the moment.

“Well, I’ve said enough about the matter.

I can tell you are tired, so I shall let you get your rest, my dear.”

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