“Because I’m worried, okay? She’s out there suffering God knows what, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it!” I roar, letting out some of my frustration and pain all at once. “I’ve been watching out for her since she was a kid. That’s what I do. I take care of her. And I’m here, helpless, while she’s getting hurt.”
“That, right there, what are you talking about? What do you mean, taking care of her since she was a kid? She was in foster care in New Jersey, and you lived in North Carolina. I thought the two of you met in high school.” His face is red, his own anger surfacing. “You’re both always saying cryptic shit like that, and all she’ll say about it is to ask you, and when I do, you won’t talk about it either. I’m done getting the brush off.”
I bend over, my head between my knees as my breath comes out in short gasps. What did I do? I just shouted the very thing I’ve been hiding from him. He’s not going to let this go.
“Shit.”
“Exactly so.” Ethan bends down. “Dude, you okay?”
I shake my head. “Go get us some beers. This is going to take a while.”
He starts to go upstairs, and I stop him, pointing to Zeke’s mini fridge. He keeps it stocked with Sam Adams. I never thought I’d drink anything but Budweiser, but that stuff has grown on me.
Ethan hands me a beer and sits back down, waiting.
“You’re sure you want to know this? Once I tell you, there’s no unknowing it.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. I hate being the odd man out when it comes to the information you, Mary, and Mattie share. I feel like you guys don’t trust me enough to let me in on the big secret. It gets old fast.”
“Sometimes not knowing is easier than knowing. Sometimes it’s the only way to protect the people we love.”
He sighs. “I’d rather know the truth than go crazy wondering all the time. I can take it.”
I hope so. I’d hate to lose him. He’s as important to me as Mattie.
“My name is Eric Lawrence Cameron. I was born on July twenty-forth, nineteen ninety-five.”
“What?” He rears back. “I’m not in the mood for jokes, Eric. I’m serious. I want to know the truth.”
“I promise I’m not messing with you. Just be quiet and listen, okay?”
He nods slowly, but I can tell he’s not sure if I’m serious.
Sometimes I wish I could be Jake, that I could have his memories instead of my own. It would make everything easier for all of us, but especially for Jake’s parents.
“My mother died in a fire when I was a baby, and my grandmother took me. She raised me until I was fourteen when she died from a stroke. I went into foster care after that. It’s where I met Mattie. She was just a little kid who tried to defend herself against everyone and everything, but she didn’t know how to fight. I remember thinking what a beautiful little girl she was, and I got scared for her. She was exactly the type of kid certain men preyed on, the kind of sick, twisted men you find more often than not in the system. So, I taught her how to fight.”
She really was a beautiful kid, and I worried so much for her, not only because of her looks, but her attitude. She hated being in the system and acted out. She’d shifted through more homes than most of the kids I knew in the system combined. It didn’t bode well for her, and I decided to do what I could to help her. I might not have been able to change her attitude, but I could help her learn to defend herself if necessary. And that’s what I’d done while she was in the same home as me. When she left, I only hoped she’d use the skills I taught her to protect herself.
“Hey, you okay?”
I blink, coming out of my thoughts. “Sorry, just thinking about the past. Where was I?”
“How you met Mattie.”
I nod and take a long drink of beer. Maybe we should have broken out the actual liquor for this conversation.
“She was moved to another foster home, and I lost track of her. I was adopted about a year later to a couple I came to love. They were the parents of my best friend, Derek James. He convinced them to take me in, and they were good people who took care of me. Derek and I started playing basketball when we moved to Charlotte, and it was after a game that I was taken.”
“Taken?”
I remember everything that was done to me in the weeks before my death. It haunts me. I have nightmares about it, and I hate talking about it because it makes the nightmares so much worse. But for Ethan, I’ll brave my demons and hope he’s still there when I’m done.
“I went out the side door like some of the team did to escape the madhouse. We’d won, and everyone was cheering. It was easier to get to where I’d parked my car, but I made it about five steps when someone hit me from behind, and I blacked out. When I woke up, I was tied down to a chair.”
“What?” Ethan whispers, shocked.
“I was blindfolded, and no matter how I struggled, I couldn’t get free. I’m not sure how long I was alone before he came in. I was scared, expecting him to say something about keeping quiet. But he never said a word. For the weeks I was there, he never once spoke to me. I got food and water once every couple days, but after about a week, it was hard to keep it down.”
Ethan makes a strangled sound, and I flinch away from it. As hard as this is to hear, it’s even harder to relive.
“He tortured me, messed up my face so bad it was unrecognizable. Broken bones, stab wounds, you name it, he did it. I lived in pain. I begged him to stop, to tell me why he was doing this to me. I even begged for death, but he never said a word to me.”
“I don’t…”
I hold up a hand. I need to get this out.
“The day I heard the gun cock, I said a prayer of thanks to God that it was finally ending. But it didn’t. He shot me in the head, and I died, but I wasn’t gone. I stayed there in that dank basement, and it was only then I saw that the man who killed me wasn’t a man, but a woman. She stood over my dead body and smiled.”
I take another long drink of my beer and glance at Ethan. He’s horrified. I hate that I have to burden him with this, but he’s right. He needs to know.
“You stayed here, though? Why?”
“I didn’t know at first. One minute I was there staring at the woman, and the next I was in the car with her and then in her home. I was attached to her.”
“She took something of yours, and it bound your spirit to it.”
“Yes, but I still don’t know what that was.”
“I’m so sorry, Eric.”
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. “I wasn’t always with her. Sometimes I went to the dark place, the place I died. It was cold, pitch black and terrifying. And soon, another girl appeared in that basement, tied to the same chair. She was about ten, and the woman tortured her. I tried to help her. I tried so hard, but I was a ghost. There was nothing I could do. She tortured and killed more kids, and when their spirits passed to the ghost plane, I took them and did everything I could to keep them safe from the dangers our new world had. There are things there that not even Mattie has seen. Things I don't want her to ever know about.”
Ethan remains quiet while I down what’s left of my beer. He gets up and brings me back another one. I nod in appreciation.