Page 29 of Secrets in Salem: Part One

Rolling my eyes, I fall back into the couch and scrub my hands over my face and shake my head.

"Yeah, we realize it was a rookie move, okay? I can feel your judgement, asswad. Tone it down. I'm sure she'll be fine," Aleric says, swatting me with the remote before turning his focus on the television. I don't even know what he's watching, but it looks shit. His focus should be on the woman he abandoned instead of on the damned TV.

I turn my head to glare at him, eyes rolling at myself since he doesn't even notice, already engrossed in the lame show he’s pretending to be enthralled with. Instead, I turn to face Bishop, finding his gaze already watching me. I raise my eyebrows in question and shrug, my sign for 'what are we going to do?'.

"There isn't anything to do, Micah. I gave her my number. I'm sure if she needs anything, she'll call," he claims, nodding as if that will help sell what he's saying. Does he even know who he's talking about? The woman who went out on Hallows Eve to play with a ouija board against her mother's better judgement. The woman who, if the evidence we've gathered on her thus far, is very stubborn, doesn't like to ask for help, and is as independent as they come. And they left her by herself after a traumatic ordeal. I'mgladI can't talk right now, or I'd start calling my brothers every curse word that comes to mind.

Shaking my head at Bishop, I roll my eyes again and stand from the couch. I head over to the coat rack and snatch up my jacket, shoving it on with stiff movements. If they're not going to check on her, then I will, even if it makes me look like a total creep. Better safe than sorry.

"Where are you going, Mic? It’s storming outside," Bishop asks, watching me wearily.

Seriously?

I turn my head and give him a look, calling him an idiot with my eyes alone. I walk out of the small apartment with a slam of the door and out of the building completely. As soon as I'm outside, Bishop's words are proven correct. I'm soaked from head to toe. The rain is lashing down forcefully, drenching everything it touches. The sky is darkening, gray turning into dark blue with the upcoming nightfall. Everything is silent other than the sound of pounding drops hitting the ground and the wind whistling through the air.

Jogging to the car I acquired, I feel the sensation in my gut expanding, turning my stomach with worry. Concern builds in my chest, and a cold shiver runs down my spine. Something isn't right, and I've never ignored my instincts before. They've always led me in the right direction. Now isn't the time to ignore them, especially with the Devil's daughter currently in our care.

There’s a small flicker of something in my head that says it’s more than that, that it’s purely Willow that I’m out here in the rain for, but I don’t have time to dissect that thought just yet. I’ll look into that later.

I jump in the car, shucking my wet jacket the moment I close the door, and settle behind the wheel. Starting the car, I pull away and begin the drive toward Willow's home. Halfway through the drive, the sick feeling in my stomach intensifies before disappearing completely. Frowning, I step on the accelerator a little harder, picking up the pace so I can check on Willow and ease my mind before heading home again with the knowledge that she's okay. That she’s safe at Adam’s and I won’t find her at her ruined home like I have a feeling I will. How is it, after only officially knowing her for a couple of hours, I feel like I already know so much about her? It’s as maddening as it is interesting.

The drive to Willow's house goes exceedingly quick despite the downpour. When I'm close enough to the house, I park the car haphazardly and jog the rest of the way, not caring that my clothes are soaked and my hair is plastered to my face. The only concern I have is knowing if the woman who has infiltrated my thoughts entirely too quickly is okay.

I bound up the stepping stone path toward the front door, stopping before entering to examine it. The door looks splintered in several places, but Willow seems to have screwed the thing back onto its hinges. It doesn't look anywhere close to being safe enough.

Clenching my teeth, I slide the door open, the lock falling to the ground as if one tiny nudge was all it took to knock it out of the door entirely. I shake my head while I step inside the house, turning to scan outside for anything that might appear out of the ordinary. Finding nothing unusual, only the scuttling of a rabbit nearby, I head back to the front door. I ease it open, rolling my eyes at Willow for thinking the flimsy door would protect her, and shut it after myself as soon as I’m fully inside her home.

My brothers were right. The house is destroyed, red paint plastering the walls with poorly drawn pentagrams and all its contents in degrees of ruin. Shaking my headagain, because Willow really shouldn't have been left here alone tonight, I quietly make my way up the stairs toward her room.

Opening the door slowly, my eyes land on the woman in question immediately, tucked away under her comforter with her raven-colored hair sprawled around her. She's fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady. I move closer, kneeling on the floor beside her bed, until I can hear her heart beating evenly in her chest.

Relief courses through me, and I sigh quietly so as not to wake the sleeping woman. I scan her face, soft in slumber with only a puckered brow that shows she’s troubled. Her plump lips are parted, minty air puffing against my face with every steady breath she takes. She’s okay, safe and sound in her bed. My worry was for nothing. This has to be the first time my gut has steered me wrong.

With slow movements, I push away from the bed and stand in the doorway, watching her for a moment. I’m telling myself it's to make sure she really is alright, but I know it's because there's something about her that makes me unable to look away. There’s something that makes me feel like Iknowher. That we’ve met before, shared secrets, made memories. I felt it the first time I saw her, the draw toward her even though she'd been crying on the ground, burnt, bruised, and broken. My chest constricts at the memory, echoes of the pain I felt from watching her in so much agony racing through my chest.

Shaking the feeling off, I take one last look at Willow, smiling slightly when she sighs softly in her sleep. I look away and move from the room, closing her door quietly behind me. Knowing she's fast asleep makes me feel a little better, but I still don't like that she's here alone. In fact, the horrible sinking feeling in my stomach remains, growing stronger with each passing second. Bishop and Aleric are right, though. There's nothing that can be done without us drawing unwanted attention to ourselves.

Before leaving Willow, I walk through the house just to be sure, satisfied when the only things to be found are her broken possessions. Nodding to myself, I head back into the storm, shoving the front door tightly closed and wincing at the loud thunk it makes.

Looking around quickly to confirm I'm alone, I face the handle of the door and feel my hand heat until it glows a mixture of orange and red, my beast offering his satisfaction with my train of thought. I place my hand on the handle, the sound of melting metal ringing in my ears.

As soon as the handle melts enough, I move my scalding hand away and jiggle the door. It doesn't move, giving me a little relief that it'll hold for the night. It's not much to keep her safe, but at least it's something. I’ll come by in the morning to fix it before she wakes.

My hand cools quickly, thanks to the cold rain, and I jog back to my car and get in, making the ride back to the apartment while my mind stays on the black-haired beauty lying in an empty house alone. It doesn't sit right with me; I don’t want to leave her there, especially alone, but I'm at a loss for what I could possibly do. Reasoning with worries, I have to remind myself that it's only one night. She'll be okay for a few hours.

My gut tells me otherwise, the sick feeling growing more and more the further away I drive from her house.

As soon as I'm back at the apartment, I hurry up the stairs and out of the rain. I let myself in, finding Aleric in the same spot as I left him and Bishop sitting on the window seat watching the storm rage on outside.

He looks over at me when the noise of the door shutting draws his attention. "Did she go to Adam’s?"

I shake my head.

"Is she okay?"

I shrug and nod wearily. She looked okay, but that doesn't mean a damn thing.

Bishop nods, his sigh of relief audible above the sound of whatever is playing on the television. I notice Aleric's posture relaxing, his chest rising with a deep breath, though he doesn't provide any other reaction. I’d have missed the relieved exhale completely had I not been waiting for some sign that he even cared.

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