1
07:00
May, 2019
Chesterville Town
Lauren jerked up in bed.
“Uhgnnn...” she moaned, dragging a hand through her hair. She fell weakly back against the pillows.
Sunlight filtered in through her bedroom window and she squinted at it as she sat up in the bed. Something had woken her up, but she wasn’t sure what.
The sound came again.
Bang, bang, bang.
The door. Someone was at the door. Lauren frowned as she got out of bed and pulled on a bathrobe to cover her tiny shorts and tank top.
“Who the hell visits so early?” she croaked sleepily.
Over a month ago, Aunt Abigail, Lauren’s aunt, would have been the one answering the door, but since she’d passed away more than a month ago, Lauren was left on her own.
On her own to handle her fears and nightmares and anxiety.
All afuckinglone.
Sighing, she trudged to the door, knowing she looked a mess and not caring because she didn’t see the need to look presentable for whoever had the audacity to visit so early. Her aunt, Abigail Burns, had been a devote Catholic and had sent Lauren to a Catholic Girls boarding high school, where they took pleasure in waking the students up at the tiniest hint of dawn.
The habit had never stuck with Lauren, however, and since she’d left that prison-house, she took every opportunity to sleep late.
Lauren pulled open the front door and her brows rose.
There, on her doorstep, stood an elderly man, leaning on a young male nurse who smiled brightly at Lauren. His nametag read “Jason”.
She blinked at him.
“Uh... can I help you?” Lauren asked the old man.
This had better not be some kind of door to door sales pitch. She’d heard people complaining of those these days.
The man stared at her silently for a few seconds before clearing his throat.
“Lauren Burns,” said the old man in a sharp, robust voice, stunning Lauren. “I am Advocate Montgomery Hutson and I am here to speak with you. Shall I come in?”
“Uhm...” Lauren started but stopped when the old man let go off his nurse and strode into her home, a gleaming wooden cane in his hand.
“What...?” Lauren spun around, staring as he gave a contempt-filled glance at a portrait of Aunt Abigail.
“Excuse me?” Hands on her hips, Lauren followed the man into the house. “I don’t think—”
He suddenly turned around, making Lauren halt suddenly.
“I must speak with you, young lady. Do not be afraid... I... I knew your mother.”
Lauren’s skin went cold and she stared, wide-eyed, at him.
“My... my momma?”
When he nodded, she slowly pointed to a sofa. “Uhm... please sit.”
If this sudden visit had to do with her mother, Lauren was willing to forgive them for disturbing her sleep.
“Young lady,” said the old advocate, his eyes focused on her face in a way that told Lauren that he was the kind of advocate who didn’t miss a thing. “I believe you are aware that your family home in Woodfair is still there. I’m not certain how much your Aunt told you, but there occurred horrible events in that house and it’s been empty since. However, the town council now intends to destroy it. I’m here to give you a chance to save your family house.”
Lauren stared dazedly at the thin man before her. Consumed by the torrent of thoughts flooding through her mind, a wave of dread following each thought.
The family house?
“Ms. Burns? Are you alright?” questioned the sharp voice.
Blinking, she brought the elderly man back into focus as he sat on the edge of her sofa. Her gray eyes pointlessly took in his large wire-rimmed glasses and the pale blue eyes behind them, staring at her from over a slightly crooked nose.
She shook her head and ran a hand through her long black mane.
“I’m sorry...Uhm…” Lauren’s voice trailed off. She’d forgotten the man’s name.
“Advocate Montgomery Hutson, Miss,” he said, staring pointedly at her and Lauren couldn’t help but get the feeling that he expected her to know him.
The name meant nothing to her. She didn’t know who the hell he was.
“Yes. Advocate Hutson...I’m afraid I don’t recall my aunt ever mentioning that we still have a family home in Woodfair. I was actually told that the old house was demolished after...the events that took place.”
Hutson sniffed, leaning heavily on his cane, his hands hovering just below his chin.
“She would have said that,” he responded with poorly hidden venom in his tone.
Lauren blinked.“And why would she?”
“Your Aunt, Abigail Burns, was one of the most vindictive, most selfish—”
“Excuse me?” Lauren’s eyes were wide and she shot to her feet.
The old man quietened down and glanced at her briefly, his jaw jutting out defiantly. Had she not been so angry, the sight might have amused her.
“Are you aware that my aunt only passed away a month ago?”
“Well aware,” Hutson responded easily, unperturbed by Lauren’s outrage.
“Then can we please respect the dead?” she demanded, slowly sitting down again. “My aunt lived a hard life and I won’t have anybody disrespecting her memory now.”
The thin, elderly man’s lips formed a pout like that of a scolded child and he shrugged in resignation. Gentle eye rose and settled on her. “All grown up, aren’t you?” he quietly said.
Lauren lifted her own chin and smoothed a hand down her soft bathrobe as though it were a royal gown.
“Listen, child…” Hutson said with a grave expression. “I understand...yes, I do. I understand that the woman raised you and I expected nothing less than your defending her, but my visit here today is not an occasion to debate.”
Lauren gave the man a narrow-eyed look, wishing he would leave soon. The entire visit had been too strange for her liking. She had no idea who the old man really was and yet he’d rocked up on her porch demanding to speak to her about Woodfair! Of all places.
“What is the reason for your visit then?”
“I’ve told you! The house stands empty, it has for twenty years! I represent the town council. You must return to the town of Woodfair and sign the documentation to release it into the hands of the town council or you take full possession
of—”
Hutson’s passionate argument was suddenly cut off by a violent coughing fit.
Lauren’s eyes widened as the man’s thin body was racked by the cough.
She quickly ran to her kitchen to fetch a glass of water.
Lord knows she didn’t want the old man to perish right on her living room floor.
She helped him take a few sips of water and the cough finally ceased.
Placing the glass on a side table, Lauren hovered beside him anxiously, ready to catch the frail man if he were to lose his strength.
Hutson breathed deeply and waved her away.
“I’m...I’m alright. These old bones will live yet.”
Glancing at him nervously, Lauren took her seat.
“What I’m saying is…” he continued and Lauren prayed he wouldn’t get so excited this time. “Just go home and make a decision about that house. Your Aunt rejected it, refused to even acknowledge it. Your mother and grandfather, as I’m sure you know, have been missing for decades, presumed dead. You must make a choice.”
Lauren felt a sting in her heart at the mention of her mother.
“I can’t just go back to that place. It’s not home anymore. I left when I was just five years old, I remember nothing about it.”
“You didn’t leave, you were taken away! Besides, nobody is going to force you to remain there, child. Sort out the house.” Hutson slowly rose to his feet.
Lauren jumped to her feet as well.
“But... what about...him?” she questioned, her fingers already tugging at each other at the mention of the man who ruined her family’s peace.
“Who?” Huston asked, knowing fully well that she was talking about the young man.
“Aaron Spencer. The man who killed Grandfather and...my aunt reckoned he killed my mother too. He’s still there. I don’t want to see him, or even be in the same town as him! It’s bad enough breathing the same American oxygen as that monster,” she muttered quietly, her fingers clenching into fists as tears moistened her eyes.
Hutson stared sadly at the beautiful young lady. Raised to believe half-truths. With a shake of his head, he slowly started for the door.
“Go to Woodfair, child. There you will learn much that will change everything.”
Lauren watched him walk shakily to the front doors, where the handsome young nurse helped the old man walk towards a waiting car. She watched from the doorway, arms wrapped around herself as Hutson glanced at her over his shoulder once more.
“Go,” he said and got into the car. Lauren watched drive away and told herself she wasn’t going.
She didn’t know who the old man was, he could be mental for all she knew. She strode back in the house and closed the door, her heart uneasy.
“I won’t go!” she muttered hotly to herself. “Be in the same town as Aaron Spencer! Hah. Never.”
2 days later...
Lauren clenched her jaw as she dragged the last of her bags towards her red Ford luxury convertible.
After stewing around the house for the past two days, she’d finally decided to go. So what if Aaron Spencer was there? She wasn’t scared of him! Lauren ignored the tremble in her hands at the thought of him and put her stuff in the trunk.
If their family home was there, Lauren wanted to at least see it. She didn’t have much of her mom and her pops besides the stories Aunt Abby always told her.
Maybe she’d find a few of momma’s belongings to treasure, perhaps one of pop’s old bibles.
Her mother had been a stubborn girl, according to Aunt Abby.
Lauren’s aunt had said that Catherine never abided by rules and always defied their father.
She hadn’t “followed the way of God” in Abigail’s words. Lauren found out that it was during one of her mother’s decisions to defy her father, that she became pregnant with Lauren at nineteen years old.
Aunt Abby never told her more than that. Not even who Lauren’s father had been, besides that he was a young punk not worthy of a daughter of the Reverend.
Lauren never asked to know more. She already knew that her mother had loved her to bits and that was all Lauren needed to know.
Sighing, she closed the trunk.
Lauren knew that Aunt Abby was such a devote Catholic because pops had been a priest. Aunt Abby always spoke of him like he had been the closest thing to God. Lauren always found it odd but said nothing.
Her aunt taught her of all the good things her pops did in the town. Feeding the poor, keeping the town in the ways of God and so on. When she was little, it made Lauren super proud of him. She’d even used her grandfather’s accomplishments to brag at the Catholic girl’s school, toughing out the horribly strict life there.
And just like that, she was going to tough out this trip to Woodfair. Twenty years. Twenty years since she last saw the town of Woodfair. Lord knows what creepy skeletons awaited her in that particular closet.
However, two decades was a long time and whichever creepy skeletons were in there, they were probably creeping their very last before collapsing from sheer exhaustion, poor things.
Twenty years since the death of her grandfather and mother when their murderer walked scot-free. Aaron Spencer had been 16 when he murdered the Reverend. They let him walk because they had never found any evidence that could convince the jury since her grandfather and mother’s bodies themselves were never found.
Ugh, it made her skin crawl to think of it. Bastard should have been locked away for his entire life! He destroyed her family.
Lauren knew that the entire town of Woodfair had risen up against him for the death of their beloved Priest, making Aaron and his mother outcasts.
Serves him right. Lord knows her family’s had its share of suffering, she thought it was only fair that his family went through the same. Or worse. Much, much worse.
Two decades later now, God, everything would have changed so much. Aaron Spencer himself would be a thirty-six-year-old man now.
She distractedly pulled open the trunk again, checking over everything she’d put in.
She didn’t know how she would face him.
Why did she even have to face him? She didn’t!
Lauren pulled down the trunk of her car, closing it with a dull thunk!
She walked quickly back inside to check that everything was left in order, having always carried the fear of forgetting an iron or the stove on and coming home to find that half of her property was gone up in smoke and the rest, come down in ashes. Anxiety was a bitch and Lauren didn’t want to trigger hers.
Satisfied with everything, she began walking back out of the house when the portrait of her Aunt hanging near the front door caught her eye.
Abigail Burns’ dark brown eyes bore down on Lauren, making her suddenly feel guilty. As if her going back to Woodfair was the ultimate betrayal and her Aunt disapproved.
Lauren averted her gaze away from the cold portrait eyes, tugging on the end of her long ponytail as she pulled the door closed behind her and made her way across the green lawn to her car.
It was going to be a day-long drive to Woodfair meaning the possibility of sleeping in a creepy hotel with bed bugs, non-functioning air-conditioners, rude maids who hardly clean said creepy hotel and some shady manager to top it all off. Lauren groaned just thinking about it.
“Why do I even have to do all this? Do what you want with the house...” she grumbled putting on her seat belt, knowing in the depth of her heart that she really wanted to see the house and whatever was in it. She wanted to see her family’s home, even if it came with a bitter past.
She wanted to know more.
But in her quest for all that knowledge, she hoped to not come into contact with that man. Aaron Spencer was dead to her.
The damn sun hadn’t stopped shining since she left home five hours ago and it was honestly contrasting with Lauren’s mood. Not at all in a pretty way.
For some mysterious reason, she just couldn't shake the feeling that this trip to Woodfair was going to bring bad things. It was the old man! It had to be, he came into her home and invited these feelings of dread along with him.
Lauren sighed anxiously and her hands tighten on the steering wheel.
She wished for some rain. Just a little to soothe her troubled mind, to make her stop feeling like Armageddon would soon truly be upon her. But what if it was?
She was driving back to this small town, a place she really knew nothing about, where the man who murdered half of her family still lived and might just decide to quench his thirst for blood with another Burns family member (which, in this case, would have to be her).
Lauren felt her skin prickle eerily and she clenched her jaw, trying focus on the road.
Suddenly, a car whizzed past her with a piercingly loud hoot, shouts and howls exploding out of it and Lauren shrieked, startled. Clutching the steering wheel, her hands jerked to the left and to Lauren’s horror, her car went swerving across the middle of the road, wheels screeching against the tar.
Eyes wide in shock, Lauren watched her own limbs pull. Pressing and changing pedals and gears before the car came to a halt in the middle of the road, facing the direction opposite to her initial one. She sat there, frozen and breathing heavily, her vision blurry.
“What...the hell,” she whispered shakily.
A sharp tap on her window made her start in fright and she held a hand to her heart.
Lauren turned to the window to find a man looking in at her. Through the chaos in her mind and the thumping of her heart, she could see nothing but his gorgeous face. He was a man unlike one she’d ever seen before and she found herself staring back at him as she tried to catch her breath, her heart still racing.
His dark blonde brows formed a frown over a pair of eyes so light brown, they looked gold like there was whiskey swirling in his hypnotizing orbs. She looked at him, finding every sharp angle of his face more masculine than the last.
It was either her current town was sorely lacking in male eye candy or this man was really just a masterpiece. Lauren was going equal on the two reasons. Soon, her state of shock began to melt away and she realized she was staring at the man through her window. Either he saw her adoration and was super flattered or he was really just creeped the hell out. She was betting on the second.
Well, he started it, the whole window staring thing.
He was saying something, but she couldn't hear him at all.
Staring up at him she felt herself unlock her car door and the man helped her by pulling it open.
“Good God, lady. You alright?” he asked. His hand wrapped around hers and she stared down at it, totally engulfing hers, the warmth from his skin heating more than just her hand.
The moment he stepped closer his presence engulfed her and she felt dwarfed by his size. This was a stranger standing before her on a quiet road, holding her hands and she was letting him. She must have been going crazy.
She breathed deeply before nodding and pressing her lips together, feeling her cold hands turn warmer in his.
The man scowled after the criminal car now driving in the distance as he gently released her hands.
“Damn college kids. Always rowdy,” he said quietly. “You sure you’re alright? Should I call emergency services?”
She listened to the quiet rumble of his voice and sweet drawl of his accent with slight wonder. His voice was not quiet in a shy manner at all, it was rather... dark in a way.
Afraid to seem deaf, Lauren quickly shook her head in response to his questions, noticing that the man was wearing a uniform. A fire fighter’s uniform to be exact.
“I’m...alright, thank you…I shouldn’t have gotten distracted at…at the wheel. Besides, you are emergency services.” she said with a wry smile, running a hand messily through her hair as the man checked her car.
For shit’s sake, he was a stranger and here she was stuttering like a priest caught with his hand in the treasury.
The stranger grinned and nodded at her like he'd also just remembered what he did for a living.
She blinked at his smile.
“Luckily there weren’t any cars behind you besides me. This road is never busy. Not many people go to the towns up there, y’know?” he stated, walking around and checking her car wheels.
Lauren studied him quietly as she gathered her wits about her. He was quite tall and built. Much taller than her 5’8”. He busied himself with checking her car, while occasionally talking to her. She reckoned he was trying to keep her calm and blushed at the thought, then rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.
God, how the hell had it even happened? Lauren admits that her thoughts might have been a little paranoid, but she’d never expected that they’d distract her so much. Then those silly college kids...little shits.
She sighed and the man walked over to her with a nod.
“Your car’s survived this little brush with ‘n accident,” he stated and Lauren knew he was trying to lighten the mood, although poorly, but she couldn’t help but turn teary at being reminded that she'd nearly just had an accident.
The man’s gold-swirled-in-chocolate eyes widened slightly at the sight of her tears and he visibly tensed.
“Uh...I didn’ mean…” he began, but Lauren cut him off with a rapid shake of her head and a wobbly smile.
“It’s alright, I’m just a little shaken up. I’ll be alright.”
She noticed then that he wasn't actually as young as she’d initially thought. The way he spoke…such a knowing manner. And the way he studied her intensely when he spoke to her...it hinted at the soul of someone who’s lived, experienced and learned from all the pain that life had to offer. He wasn't very young, no.
Her eyes glanced at his Ford truck, left open and running behind him.
“You didn’t switch your car off,” she said, dabbing at her eyes and he glanced back at it, the wind rustling through his thick blond hair as he did so.
“Oh. Yeah,” he said. “I better run then. Is it Malbourg you’re headed to?”
“Woodfair,” she corrected, unprepared for the way the man’s eyes turned cold and his expression became stony as he stared down at her.
“Oh,” he said simply, before nodding curtly and turning away.
“Take care then,” he called to her as he walked away without any further eye contact.
Lauren stared after him until he drove past her and was on his way.
She got back into her car much calmer then, with a pensive frown on her face. She'd actually found his quick exit unflattering.
“Did I say something wrong?” she asked the windscreen. It didn’t respond.
Sending the thought out of her mind, Lauren shrugged it off as she attempted to get her car turned back onto the road in its initial direction.
A newly arrived driver hooted impatiently behind her and Lauren bit down on the urge flip him off.
She’d honestly had enough for the day and she could feel that her levels of road rage were about to soar.
She had never been the girl with the cool temper. Her aunt blamed her mother for that, Lauren thanked her mother for it.
Her temper had gotten her understood more times than she could count. It was like people waited to see whether they could walk all over you and the second you flipped them off, they recognized.
Lauren pursed her lips as she continued her journey.
She was not tired at all and it had already been hours. There probably wouldn't be any need for rest at a shady motel since it was only three hours past midday and only a little of the journey remained.
She would just drive straight to Woodfair.
Just as she decided to do this, Lauren’s mind filled with the blonde-haired man who helped her out back on the road, then drove away faster than a slick lawyer from a lost case.
He was so strange. And bloody gorgeous. And strange.
She lifted her gray eyes to the rearview mirror, running a hand through her messy long ponytail as she did so.
She probably wouldn’t see him again anyway.
Well... at least she didn't think so.
Author's Note
Hi, guys. Ekridah here.♥ Just here to let you know that Bitter Truth is now also available on Kindle!