Vogel House Page 12
So now I have to decide. Do I tell my parents the truth, trust them enough and hope they’ll listen to me? Do I lie to them and trick them out of the house—send them on an errand and have the driver fail to pick them up? Bar their entry to Vogel House? I feel small and all alone and realize that I can’t do this all myself. I have to trust them. I need them on my side.
Even though it’s past midnight, I make my way down the dark corridors until I reach my parents’ bedroom, holding an envelope in my hand. I knock on the door and hear the groaning, grumbling sound of my father’s voice.
“What is it? Did you hear from Phillip?” The door opens and my father rubs his head and squints at me.
“I need to talk to you both. It’s complicated, but I need your help.” After I say the words I feel like a huge burden has lifted from my shoulders.
Father motions me to come inside and I see Mother gazing at me with these intense, wise eyes. She knows. She knows something terrible is taking place.
“Please just listen to everything and please don’t interrupt—I need to get this off my chest. Phillip is in trouble and Keary’s father is behind it all. I know, because he was the one I went to see tonight.”
“What the hell?” Father’s expression is wicked and terrifying, but Mother jumps out of bed and stops him from saying anything else. She pulls him back to bed and whispers something in his ear that seems to pacify him.
“You have to promise me you won’t do a thing. I need to handle this, but I also need your help to keep Phillip from being hurt. Can I count on you? Trust me, I wouldn’t lie about this, Phillip’s life is in danger and I’m the only one who can help him.”
“But if what you’re saying is true, how can we help?” Mother’s forehead wrinkles up in a questioning look.
I sigh, wishing I had more time to tell the story. “I’m in the most horrible position any daughter could be in—having to choose between the life of her brother and the safety and comfort of her parents. Please trust me?” My voice has choked up and tears are welling in my eyes. “If you don’t leave home, Phillip will die.”
My parents are stunned so intensely their faces are frozen in confusion and terror. Mother recovers first, slapping a hand to her forehead.
“We have to leave Vogel House so Phillip won’t die? Did I hear you right?”
I nod and clench my face up to keep myself from crying. “He’s watching us, monitoring us…Howard McNaughton is. We can’t go to the police; I have to handle this. If you leave Vogel House, I’ll have another week to sort things out.”
“So on top of ruining my business, that bastard is intent on ruining my family?” Father’s face is red and puffy and his eyes are bloodshot. His clenched fist pounds the bed as if it were Howard McNaughton.
“Will you do this? Leave the house and stay out of sight in some cheap hotel—he has to believe you’ve been humiliated and tricked. Let the driver take you to a restaurant—wear dinner clothes—then wait outside the restaurant and pretend you’re angry when no driver comes. Call me and get shocked and upset as if I’m betraying you and telling you to never return to Vogel House. And when it’s late and you’re tired, walk to some crappy hotel and stay there until I call you. Mother, here.” I hand her an envelope filled with $2,000.
“Father, you should appear to have no cash, and when you go to the hotel, ask Mother if she has any money. Howard McNaughton needs to believe you’ve been cast out, close to penniless, and you’re scrounging for money. The next day you both have to go and try to find jobs—anything—and then look for a cheap apartment. He wants to debase you.”
Mother lifts herself up, a look of fierce determination on her face. “I don’t like any of this any more than your father does, but I trust you completely, Clarise. We’ll prepare ourselves, won’t we?” She nods, staring at Father.
“How does one prepare oneself for something like this?” Father’s head sags to his chest. “I’ve spent my entire life living here in Vogel House. I played in the gardens as a boy. I raised you and Phillip here. So many memories—some beautiful and some bad—but my life is here, how do I leave it? How will I survive out there?”
“You’ll have me. We’ll stick together. And it will only be for a while, won’t it?” Mother’s eyes are hopeful and trusting as she gazes at me.
“Only for a little while, I promise. I’ll do my best to sort out this mess. I have money and I have a plan.” Then why do I feel so helpless and vulnerable? Only now, after saying all this to my parents, do I realize how much I need a friend’s help. And the first person that comes to my mind is Keary. I have to see him.
Tonight.
If he’s a backstabbing traitor I have to find out, but my heart tells me he’s not.
“I have to go away somewhere tonight—I’ll be back later.” I turn to go, but my mother’s voice stops me.
“Come and give us a hug—we’re so proud of you.” Mother’s arms are open wide and Father rises to stand beside her. I walk into their arms and allow myself to be embraced; it feels comforting but my body is still stiff, as if the heat from my parents is insufficient to melt away the tension. I break away quickly and escape to my room.
I call the car service and a weary-sounding dispatch tells me a driver will be out shortly to meet me. Inside my closet I select spandex pants and a black long-sleeve top—I feel like a cat burglar. My Mac comes to life and I quickly login to my school’s website and find Keary’s address. I type it into my phone and head outside. The night is thankfully warm and the grass wet with dew as I stride over to the side gate and out into the street.
The car is already there waiting, and the driver, an old, haggard-looking man with puffy eyes, steps out to open the door for me. He tells me good evening and then corrects himself as he realizes it’s early morning. His breath stinks of cigarettes and garlic. I tell him the address and the car speeds off down the dark road.
I start to question myself and what I expect to do when I get to Keary’s house. How will I sneak in? I don’t even know where his bedroom is—I never once visited his house. What if he has a security alarm on the gate? I can just imagine myself being arrested by a pair of pathetic private security guards in lame uniforms.
When the driver pulls up to Keary’s house, a massive three-story brick estate with ivy growing up the walls, I tell him to keep driving past the house and stop before the next one.
“I’m visiting a friend…I’ll call you when I need a ride.”
The man gives me a knowing grin and winks at me. “Sure, doll. Don’t have too much fun in there.”
I roll my eyes and stick my fingers down my throat, pretending to vomit. The old man’s chuckle turns into a hoarse smoker’s cough as I stroll along a tall, ivy-covered brick fence surrounding Keary’s estate. I stop far in advance of the blackened iron gate with two surveillance cameras scanning back and forth atop gargoyles’ heads. Definitely not the best way to enter the grounds. I stare up at the fence and guess it’s around twelve feet high. The ivy is thick along the brick and it’s difficult to grab a handhold. I trace back towards where the driver dropped me off and spot a tree limb that swoops over the fence towards the road and droops down to where I can probably touch it if I jump as high as I can. Unfortunately, it’s so thick there’s no way I grab on to it.
Here, though, the ivy is thinner and I manage to start climbing up the brick, but then my fingernail breaks, shooting a burst of pain down my hand. I stifle a scream and clench my teeth together. Finally, I manage to reach the top and find a branch on the other side where I can shimmy my way down and drop to the ground.
I must have made more noise than I thought, because I hear a dog barking on the other side of the house. My eyes lock on a trellis attached to the side of the house that leads to a second-floor balcony.
Blood hammers through my veins as I start running as fast as I can towards the house.
CHAPTER 15
UNDER THE LIGHT of the moon I spot a black shape hurtling its way alon
g the side lawn towards me, snarling and barking in fury. I know that in seconds the dog/wolf/were-beast is going ram into me and maul me to death. Just before its snapping jaws clench onto my leg, I leap to the right of a bush and catch a glimpse of what looks like a pit bull tumbling out of control on the ground. I guess pit bulls can’t turn very well. A light flicks on in a second-story window and I hear an angry, sleepy voice yelling.
“Shut the fuck up you lousy guard dog! It’s just another fucking deer you stupid mutt.” I grin in delight as I recognize Howard McNaughton’s voice. So that’s Keary’s parents’ bedroom.
Only a few more steps and I grab the trellis and climb as quickly as I can while the beast slams into the wall below me. My heart hammers in my chest as I try to climb high enough to stay clear of the dog’s snarling jaws. I wince in pain after my hand is impaled by rose thorns, but at least those pit bull teeth aren’t gnawing on my leg. I climb higher and higher, now avoiding the roses, and try to ignore the savage barking and growling below.
“Will somebody please shut that dog up?” Then I hear Howard’s lowered voice. “The deer are probably eating the roses again. I’ll call Jose and get him to cage Pepper.”
Pepper. What a name for a guard dog. More like Pepper Spray. I peek over the top of the trellis and spot a second light at the far end of a long balcony that stretches across the entire side of the house. Hope floods within me as I pray that the light is from Keary’s room. I slide over the balcony railing as stealthily as possible and crouch behind a cushioned patio chair. Pepper is still barking but soon I hear a voice below calming her down and leading her away.
I sigh in relief as quiet returns to the estate, and after a while the lights in the house go dark. The moon is almost full tonight, and the stars, dimmed by the moon’s brilliance, flicker lazily, winking at me like my wise old grandmother used to as we’d drink tea together. God, how I miss her. When I gaze at the stars I feel her watching over me, granting me her wisdom, guiding me to protect Vogel House. It’s as if a piece of her spirit falls from the sky and settles over my shoulders, imbuing me with purpose and light. I feel her love for me and her love for Vogel House. And despite the chill of early morning, that feeling warms me down to my bones.
Keary’s parents must be asleep by now, as I’m feeling sleepy myself. I stand and tiptoe my way along the balcony edge, navigating around furniture and plants in massive ceramic pots that gleam in the moonlight. When I reach the French doors where the light was on at the far side of the house, I wonder if I should tap on the window or try opening the door. Do they have a security alarm? Father never installed one at home and I’m glad he didn’t—I always felt safe with him at home.
I peek in the window but thick curtains block my view. I try to find evidence of a security system, although I’ve no idea what I’m looking for. The windowpanes seem old and the paint is flecked along the edges. There are no wires or anything on the inside other than the wooden frame. And Keary’s father had stepped outside to yell at the dog, so I feel safe in thinking that if they do have an alarm, it’s turned off.
The door opens with a click as I press down on the handle. I let out a relieved sigh. I’d rather sneak in and make sure that whoever is inside is Keary and not someone else. The room is pitch black so I allow the moonlight to shine inside, illuminating a metallic desk with what looks like Keary’s awesome MacBook Pro and a book so fat it could only be an SAT-prep book.
I stalk over to Keary’s bed, bend down at the edge, and whisper his name. He mumbles something incoherent and turns over, smacking his lips like he’s eating something in a dream. I chuckle to myself and feel too guilty to interrupt his peaceful sleep, so I just watch his cute sleeping face, so innocent and calm, like the beach in the morning when it’s swept clean after a purifying storm. I want to flick the lock of hair that’s settled over an eye, obscuring his face from my view. The desire to kiss him invades me so strongly that I lean in close to him, hoping the first thing he feels when he wakes is my lips on his.
My resistance against what I’m feeling is incredibly low so I slide my legs under the covers and ease myself so close to him that I can feel his breath fall softly on my face. I’m unable to keep my fingers from flicking the lock of hair from his eyes and I relish the full view of his beautiful face. My body feels tender and tingles all over as my skin touches his, electricity sparking between us. I feel like a pervert breaking into his room, staring at him like a fool, and sneaking my way into his bed. But everything feels so right at this moment. I just want to lie here in silence next to the boy I love and forget about everything that’s happening in the crazy stupid world around me.
Keary inhales a huge breath of air and his eyes and nose twitch at once. His mouth smiles innocently, and he looks like a boy returning home to his mother after a long summer spent away at camp. He whispers my name, as if he’s seeing an angel in his dream, an angel so filled with beauty and love that it fills his voice with awe and sorrow and regret. Tears flood my eyes in an instant and I feel so glad, so happy that when he dreams of me, when he whispers my name, his voice is filled with love for me.
I don’t care if I wake him. I move in so close to his face that I can feel tiny pinpricks on my lips, a mesh of scintillating current charging the space between us. My lips touch his and I can taste the salt from my tears falling on his lips. The sound of my voice startles me.
“Keary, I love you. I love you so much. Everything is so…messed up.” A sigh escapes from my lips and I clench my teeth, not wanting to say more but unable to stop myself. “I need you. I need a friend. I need your help.”
Somehow my words penetrate into Keary’s sleeping mind and his eyelids flutter and he squints them open to stare at me. He’s not surprised or upset to find me in his bed; his eyes are completely warm and kind as a huge smile spreads over his face.
“My God, it’s you. You’re in my bed…holy crap. How did you get in here?”
I grin at him and a small laugh releases from my mouth. “I snuck in past your über-guard dog. What do you feed that beast? If it wasn’t for my amazing agility, your dog would’ve torn my leg off.”
“Not my dog. I hate that mutt. My father insisted we get a guard dog a few weeks ago; he’s freakin’ paranoid. He’s gone nuts, taken my phone, and forced me to give him access to my e-mail and all my accounts. He made me de-friend you on Facebook. He has this fuck-face security moron watching me all the time. I can’t believe you managed to break in here! That’s so cool. You’re like a ninja or something.”
I softly punch his shoulder and the urge to kiss him again rises strong inside me. “I had to see you. I didn’t have anyone else to turn to.”
“It’s my father, isn’t it? He’s doing everything he can to ruin your family.”
“Much worse than that.” I sigh and think about the best way to tell him the story and finally choose a place to begin. He listens patiently, but his expression twists up into rage when I tell him about my brother, the dinner with his father, how I’ve been forced to kick my parents out of my house, and how his father said Keary was a traitor to me.
“So not only is he trying to ruin your family, but he’s trying to make you suspicious of me as well?”
“All I know is I’m glad to find out you’re on my side—I can see it in your eyes. Because I really need your help. I think my parents will be okay on their own for now, but I’m worried about Phillip.”
“Even though I loathe my father, I really can’t see him having anyone killed. But I’ll do whatever you need to help, even though my father is incredibly secretive about everything—he doesn’t trust me at all. He’s basically got me on lockdown.”
Damn. What am I going to do? With Keary under surveillance all the time and no way for us to communicate, what next? “Any ideas?”
“I’ll try and listen when he talks on the phone…maybe snoop around a bit. But even if I do hear something, how am I going to tell you?”
“Sneak out like I snuck in. Your se
curity dude can’t watch you all the time.”
“Maybe. But I don’t have your awesome ninja skills.” He grins at me with this insanely cute grin. “How did you climb the balcony? The trellis is covered in roses.”
I show him my hand where the thorns punctured my skin. “I found that out on the way up here. Roses suck.”
He kisses my palm once, twice, three times, and a heat surges along my wrist and up my arm, sending a flush across my chest and neck. I instinctively lean in towards him and he raises his eyes to meet mine. His lips feel so soft that when he kisses me I close my eyes and feel myself falling into him. He wraps his arms around my lower back and pulls me close, his tongue penetrating my mouth with a fervent urgency that reminds me of the last time I saw him. I give in and kiss him back, probing and sucking his mouth in delight. He’s afraid he’ll never see me again, just like the last time we were in bed on Martha’s Vineyard.
As his hands start reaching down to grab my hips, I release a throaty moan, arching my neck, giving him an opportunity to rub his lips along my nipples. The thin top I’m wearing makes me feel completely exposed to his caress. I offer no resistance as his hands come around the sides and yank the top up over my head, leaving me naked from the waist up. This time, Keary burrows his face between my breasts, and my skin prickles and goes taut from the sudden night chill. I fall to the side while his tongue ravages my nipples, flicking and sucking until my eyelids flutter in the pleasure of the feeling coursing through my body.
I hate the fact that I’m just lying there, exposed like a fish; I want to do something in return. So I reach down and feel the hardness of his cock through his pajamas, and slide my fingers down and play with it like a toy. What am I supposed to do with it? Stroke it, squeeze it, suck it? Keary is grunting and sighing now, kissing my nipples and rubbing my breasts with fervor. I have no clue what I’m going to do next, but a clear thought possesses me: I want him inside of me. Now. His cock is super stiff and I feel like I’m playing with a strawberry gummy.