Page 71 of Steel Rain

Ajaxhadtodressme, and that was humiliating enough. But he also insisted on carrying me to the big house. Carrying me like I was some kind of bride.

“I can walk,” I protested as he marched me up the stairs to the wraparound porch.

“You can, but you’re not going to,” he said with a small wink.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I groaned in his arms.

“A little bit.”

We passed some guards that marched around the house, and they nodded at Ajax, sparing me a surprised glance, but then choosing to look away.

“Nosy Irish bastards,” Ajax growled.

“Hey!” I protested, slapping him lightly on the shoulder. “Those are my people.”

“Sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” he smirked, shouldering the door open, as he brought us in sideways to the great foyer.

I looked around the hall again, having not been here since the first time I stepped back into the life. I let out a low whistle.

“I swear, Eoghan’s turned into one of those creepy rich guys in a Dickens novel,” I said, looking up and down the great wooden staircase, to the creepy painting on the wall. “Never would have thought this was his fate.”

Ajax adjusted me in his arms, tossing me up to bring me closer to his chest.

“I don’t see him as being a fluffy kind of guy,” he casually mentioned, going down a hallway that I knew led to the dining room. “Dark and creepy kinda suits him.”

“Actually, he was really sweet. Until his mother was killed.” I wrapped an arm around Ajax’s neck, pulling myself close to him as I felt a sudden chill. Probably just the house giving me a sense of doom. “He wasn’t a sunshiny kid, but he did used to laugh a lot.”

The hallway was dark, with stained wood board and batten on the lower half, and a forest green wall above, with hanging portraits and yellowing old photographs of Green ancestors. All of them were dead. Just like this house.

“What happened to his mom?”

“She was left dying at the end of the drive. She was …” I swallowed. She had been left in the middle of the day. I had been at the big house, playing with my sister when it all happened. “They tossed her out of a van, sped off. She was … brutalized. She had endured every terrible thing possible, and she was … she wasn’t going to make it.”

Ajax’s step faltered, as he waited for me to finish the story.

“You should put me down before we go in there,” I whispered, hoping that I could get away without finishing. But he didn’t move. He waited me out. “She had been assaulted in every way and she was begging for it all to end. Old Mr. Green had to …” I took in a deep breath. “He had to put her out of her misery. He … the clinic. Morphine. She … passed peacefully. And Eoghan, and old Mr. Green, were never the same after that.”

He got me to the wooden French doors that led to the dining room and placed me on my feet. He put a kiss on my forehead.

“Are you ready?” he asked, stepping behind me, and putting his hands on my shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze.

I looked down at those powerful hands and was puzzled by the sight of two scrapes on his index and middle knuckles.

“Your fists are swollen.” I whispered, reaching up to run my fingers against the swollen bruises. “Were you in a fight?”

“No,” he said quickly, squeezing my shoulders. “I was just taking out the trash.” Then he squeezed my shoulders again, leaning down to whisper in my ear, “I’m in your corner.”

I could feel that. I could feel that he was there for me.

I didn’t know what was on the other side of that door. But whatever it was, it would be awful. As everything in this life had been awful.

“Shoulders back,” he whispered into my ear. His warm breath sending a shiver down my spine. “Don’t let the bastards get you down.”

With that, I opened the doors and stepped through, walking into the room that had dominated my youth. The room had changed.

All traces of Isla Green’s loving touches were gone. The candelabra was replaced with a modern, gold chandelier. The windows were tempered glass, floor to ceiling into the rose garden. The floral brocade curtains Isla had loved so much were gone. There wasn’t even a trace of the brass curtain rods with sculpted lotus ends. Mrs. Green had loved her flowers. And the barren table was devoid of any of the fresh cuts in glass vases that she insisted on doing herself.

I saw Malinda in the corner, her wild red curls pulled back in a bun. She gave me a nod, and a small, almost scared, smile. Her eyes cut to Eoghan. Was she afraid I’d tell him? Was she afraid that Eoghan would find out howshehad helped me spirit Kira away from this haunted place?

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