“Why can’t I do this for you?”
“Do what?”
“Chase the monsters away.”
“Is that what I do?” he questioned, and I crawled on his lap.
Looping my arms around his neck, I kissed his cheek and whispered, “It’s okay. I understand.”
Pulling back slightly, he asked, “What’s okay? What do you understand?”
“That I’m your monster.”
He neither agreed nor disagreed with my words as he tumbled me back on the bed. We rolled over his sheets, and I quietly devoured my teacher, determined to have all of him—like any monster would.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Past…
I left Grayson’s place an hour later, not feeling much better than when I’d arrived. Pushing through the front door, I expected to walk into an empty house. That was not what greeted me.
“Where the hell have you been?”
My mom was sitting in the living room with her foot tapping the floor impatiently.
“I walked—”
“Cut the crap, Addison. It’s two o’clock. You left school at eight forty-five. Want to know how I know that? Miss Shrieve called to tell me.”
She stood and made her way over to me. I looked at her perfectly styled hair and flawless face enhanced by touches of makeup and wondered if she would mention the fact that her daughter had a bruised and swollen lip.
“I walked home,” I told her again, cool and calm.
She’d taught me over the last couple of years that the truth wasn’t rewarded—it was ignored and used against you.
“You’re lying.”
“So what? Do you even care?”
Stopping only inches from me, her eyes flickered down to the cut on my mouth, and I purposefully tipped my chin up so she could see exactly what the monster in this house had done.
“Answer me,” she demanded, not even acknowledging what she’d seen.
Knowing the best way to strike was at the heart. I aimed—
“I went to see Daniel.”
—and I hit.
She visibly flinched at his name, and I wondered for the first time if half of the reason I couldn’t move forward was because no one would let me.
No one except for Grayson.
“When was the last time you went to see him?” I asked, knowing full well the only time she’d ever visited her son’s grave was to bury him in it.
“Get up to your room and don’t expect to leave there until it’s time to return to school.”
Narrowing my eyes, I spoke in a voice that I hardly recognized. It was full of revulsion and malevolence. “Don’t you want to know about my lip? Did Miss Shrieve ask you about that?”
Instead of answering, she pointed to the stairs and ordered, “Get out of my sight.”
Turning away from her, I climbed the stairs and thought back to an hour earlier when I’d been somewhat content.
How could it be that the only semblance of peace for me was with someone I wasn’t allowed to have?
Present…
“I thought I might find you here,” Doc says, making his way into the quiet space that I feel is somewhat my own.
“I like the library.”
“Because it reminds you of him?” he queries, moving into my domain.
Wondering, as always, what his angle is, I ask, “Why would you say that?”
“He was a history teacher. They usually like books.”
“He liked art too,” I make sure to mention.
“Did he?”
“Yes, and photography,” I reminisce.
Doc walks around to stand behind me and places a hand on the back of my chair. “Anne Boleyn?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t she lose her head over a guy?”
I lift my face so I can find Doc’s eyes, and I can’t stop the burst of laughter. “Is that your version of a joke?”
“It was kind of funny, right?”
“No,” I tease. “He beheaded her.”
“Yes, he did. But to be fair to him, he was upset.”
“So? Divorce her, don’t behead her,” I suggest.
“Maybe that was the only way out he could see.”
“Then he was blind. I’m sure there were other ways than death.”
“Perhaps he was desperate…”
As those words left his mouth and hung in the air, my old anxiety started to creep up.
“You’re annoying me. I’m trying to write my paper.”
“Why did you pick Anne?”
I don’t bother looking over my shoulder as I state matter-of-factly, “Because I think she’s interesting.”
“What about her appeals to you?”
Jesus, he’s relentless today, not giving me an inch. He’s making me talk, making me think and remember things I’d made myself forget.
“Her strength. Her ambition.”
“That’s appealing to you?”
“Yes,” I tell him, exasperated.
Doc makes his way around to the other side of the table, but instead of sitting, he just stands there, appearing deep in thought. “You don’t think that too much ambition is dangerous?”
“It can be, if used for evil.”
“And did she use it for evil?”
“I don’t believe so, not intentionally. She wanted to be the queen. I’m sure many others also desired that honor. She just happened to go after it and succeed.”
“Hmm,” Doc muses, and the sound grates on my nerves. “It’s said, you know, that King Henry the Eighth moved heaven and earth to be with her, but his obsession, his lust, blinded him to the main reason he wanted her in the first place.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“Her intelligence. Her mind is what ensnared him and in the end, was also her undoing. You didn’t pick her because of her ambition, Addison. You picked her because he was teaching you about her in school. Your mother told me. Somehow in your mind, she brings you closer to him.”
Did I? Is my mind trying to tell me something subconsciously?
Instead of accepting that insane logic, I sputter out, “No…I just never got to finish it before.”
Doc grins and it seems somewhat mischievous. “Then you better keep going. I’ll see you at three.”
Past…
“Addison! Come on!”
It was Monday afternoon, and I felt as if I’d been trapped in my house for a year. Mom watched me like a hawk every time I left my room, so I only came out for meals. Except for this time. Right now, I was coming out because it was time to—
“Hurry up, or we’ll be late to Dr. Wolinski’s!”
—visit my therapist.
The drive over to Doc’s led us through the snooty neighborhoods in town. Each street was lined with big trees and even bigger houses. This was the first outing I’d had since I’d been out of school for three full days and wouldn’t be returning until Thursday.
That’s if I survived until then.
Mom pulled the car to a stop by the curb and turned to me. “I’ll be back in an hour.”
No shit, I thought as I pushed open the car door.
“Addison?”
Without answering, I waited for her to continue.
“Don’t say anything you’ll regret later.”
Knowing exactly what she was referring to, I licked my lip that was slowly healing but still obvious to anyone looking at me.
“So now it’s okay to lie?” I asked. “Make up your fucking mind.”
Before she had a chance to reprimand me, I climbed out and slammed the door shut. I walked up the pebbled path to the side of Doc’s house where he had a private office and turned to watch her drive away. For a moment, I wished she’d never come back.