Danville Horror: A Pat Wyatt Novel (The Pat Wyatt Series Book 3) (4 page)

I shook my head. “No, I’m not going. I can’t watch them bury her in the ground.” And I couldn’t. My mother wasn’t supposed to die. This wasn’t supposed to happen until she was ninety or older. I pictured my mother in that sealed coffin, and I felt that she didn’t deserve to have dirt all over her. She wasn’t an earthworm, she was my mother.

“You have to,” he insisted, standing in front of me with his tie at half
-
staff. “And if you don’t, I’m gonna have to carry you down.” I shook my head. “Okay,” he sighed, “you asked for it.” He grabbed me by the arms, lifting me with ease, and when I finally wriggled out of his grasp, I slapped him across the face. Taking my arms again, he held them tight to my sides as I fought against him. Finally, he leaned down and kissed me and I stopped moving. I was in shock.

When he pulled away, I blinked up at him and in an instant, I took hold of his collar and we started making out. Then after a minute, he pushed me away, looking into my eyes with concern. “We can’t,” he breathed.

“Yes, we can,” I insisted. Anything to delay going down there and facing what was to come.

He pushed me down onto the bed, lifting my legs over his shoulders. Then he took his wallet out, fiddling with his zipper and everything else. After a second, we were off to the races.

At the end of the excitement, he leaned over me and whispered, “We really need to go now.”

I nodded, getting him off me so that I could put my clothes in place. Whether I was ready or not, it was time to face the sad, dreadful music.

I shook myself back to the present, deciding it would be better to get the hell out of this house. There were just too many memories around. So I lifted myself off the bed as gently as I could and got ready for a day of cake and dresses.

chapter

FIVE

“Patricia,” Cindy gasped, her eyes widening, “you look great!”

I had stepped out of the dressing room in my matron of honor dress with some enthusiasm since I’d gotten into the damn thing without hurting myself. Actually, I was a little surprised that both bridesmaids’ dresses were almost the same, except mine had a wide belt at the waist. But even with that big and quite wonderful breakfast Cindy made me—eggs, bacon and waffles—the fact was the dress felt awfully heavy. I was so tired, and it was only eight o’clock in the morning. That was the bad thing about being me. Once I was up, I was up. It was rare indeed that I would be able to fall back to sleep again. But since I hadn’t lost any blood in the past day or had someone try to make me into their vampire bride, I went back to my normal, working on four-hour sleep, self.

At any rate, the dress looked nice on the hanger, but there were no mirrors in the dressing room, Mrs. Anderson’s rule. She was Bobby’s mother, and, of course, a second mom to me. Come to think of it, she was a second mom to all of “The Freaks.” So I smiled at her and Cindy as I stepped up onto the pedestal, with the three mirrors in front of me, and finally got a look at myself. “Wow,” I breathed. It was very impressive. The dress was dark blue, but had a sheer layer over top. As the fabric went down it sparkled with snowflakes until it reached the bottom and the sparkles gathered, even the long sleeves had tasteful crystals on them.

“You outdid yourself, Mrs. A,” I told her, and she smiled. Mrs. A was a little more round now, but she still had the brightest smile I had ever seen. Her face was friendly and delicate, and her brown eyes always twinkled when she laughed. She was also only about four foot eight.

“You’re old enough to call me Audrey, sweetness,” she said in her deep voice, but I shook my head. “All right,” she laughed, “suit yourself. So,” she paused, getting down on her knees so she could pin the bottom, “how’s your life been?”

I shrugged, and my bandages pulled, so I nearly blacked out. “Okay.”

She cocked a red eyebrow at me. Mrs. A had every hair color under the sun, and she always matched her eyebrows to it. This year, she was sporting a bright auburn and it looked good on her. They all looked good. “Oh, really?” she asked me, pursing her lips. “That’s not what I heard.”

I shot Cindy a look. She grimaced and mouthed, “Sorry.”

“What did you hear?” I asked, turning my head to look at myself in the mirrors again.

“I just heard that you were hurt, honeybunch,” she admitted, but I could tell that wasn’t the only thing Cindy told her.

I nodded. “Yup. It was a miracle that I wasn’t in pain getting this dress on, do you think you could…” my voice trailed away as a hot searing pain in my head blinded me. My vision blurred, and the only thing I could see was a white light. Then Kathryn’s face flashed in front of me. I flinched, trying to swipe the vision away, but then it changed. That’s when I saw the queen of all vampires dragging Mike out on a leash, and in the next instant she severed his jugular with her bare hands. Then everything went dark.

“Patricia,” Cindy said, and I blinked at her, shaking. Somehow, they had managed to get me on one of the chairs.

“Yeah,” I managed to say without vomiting. Why would Kathryn share that kind of vision with me? And why was Mike with her? Was this in the near future or the distant future? My heart thudded in my ears, and I felt that beautiful breakfast threatening to come back up.

My head started swimming, when Mrs. A asked, “Honey, are you okay?”

I blinked at her. “Yes, I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy that’s all. I just need to use your bathroom a second.”

“Sure, sweetie,” she replied as she and Cindy helped me to stand.

I hobbled to the back of the shop, banging into the one- stall restroom. Before I knew it, my head was over the toilet, and I vomited up everything I ate. Splashing cold water on my face, I told myself to keep it together. After all, Kathryn herself had said that all her visions were subjective, but I was still going to have to warn Mike. Then I remembered that I had left my cell and purse on my bed, and I hit my forehead with my palm. So warning him about any of this would have to wait.

Taking a deep breath, I rinsed my mouth out with some water, and I walked back out, trying to keep a smile on my face.

“You okay?” Cindy asked, and I nodded. Her eyes grew dark, and she glared at me as if she knew I was lying to her. She blinked a few times, and the look was replaced with concern. “Maybe we should just go home, Pat. We can do the cake tasting tomorrow. What do you say?”

I shook my head, figuring I might as well just get it all over and done with. Besides, doing mundane things would keep me from panicking. “No, I’m fine. Really. Besides, what’s a little bit of cake going to do to me, right?”

Mrs. A laughed, shaking her head. “That’s our Pat. Always pushing the limits.”

Cindy smiled at her, and then at me. But I noticed that it didn’t reach her eyes. “Okay. If you say you’re all right then you’re all right.” They both helped me back up on the pedestal, and Mrs. A finished pinning me.

The rest of the morning went by without incident. Mrs. A told Cindy the dresses would be ready on time, if my sister showed up to claim hers, and then we went to taste some cake. Most of it was good, and Edna, the baker, did her best not to mention the fact that the cake we picked was the cake I had ordered for my own wedding. You know, before it all went to hell in a handbasket. Cindy settled on two tiers of chocolate and a middle tier of vanilla cake. Then we decided the vanilla bean butter cream icing was the best. And when Edna asked if she wanted fondant, Cindy just smiled and replied, “Surprise me.”

After that, Cindy asked me to drop her off at Pop’s shop, gave me her house keys, and then suggested that I go home to get some rest. And since my duties as a matron of honor were done for the day, I decided to take her advice. Once I was back at the house and parked on the street, I zipped my coat up to my neck because it was bitter out. However, before I even got out of the car to rush inside so I could call Mike, I noticed that
he
was sitting on the front step.

There sat Mr. James Collins with a Scottie dog saddled up next to him. I had composed myself before I got out of the car, and once I shut the car door, he stood up and had the nerve to smile at me. “Patty,” he said, and I glared at him.

“It’s Ms. Wyatt to you, jackass,” I hissed, ready to hit him if necessary.

“Pat, listen to me,” he begged as I walked up the path, “I need to talk to you.”

“Go away,” I yelled, trying to get around him, but he blocked my way.

“Why won’t you ever let me explain?”

I scowled at him. “Explain what, James? You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t want me when you fucked my sister the day before our wedding. So excuse me if I don’t give a shit about your pathetic explanations. And who the
hell
told you I was here, anyway?”

“Alexandria,” he explained. He still had that boyish handsomeness, and it made me sick to look at him. “We’re,” he cleared his throat, “together.”

Feeling my fists clench at my sides, I finally managed to push him out of the way. Then he grabbed my elbow, and I guessed the look in my eyes made him let me go as soon as he touched me. “Please,” he breathed, his eyes pleading with mine, “just let me talk to you.”

“You know what? There was a time when I would have fallen for your bullshit, but you don’t know what I’ve been through these past couple of months. I have dealt with things that you would never have dreamed of in your puny little existence. So leave me alone, James. I mean it. Because you do
not
want to fuck with me. Got it, Jimmy Wimmy?” I bellowed in his face.

He swallowed, hard. “Sorry to bother you, Ms. Wyatt. I’ll leave.”

“Good,” I hissed.

“But I want you to know,” he said as I put the key in the lock, “that I still have feelings for you, and I always will.”

“Whoop dee frigging doo.” And with that, I walked in the house.

It wasn’t even noon yet, and I had to deal with my ex-fiancé telling me that he still had feelings for me. “Anything else?” I asked the Universe, but there was no answer. I needed to think before I spoke to anyone about anything, and there was only one thing I could do.

I made my way down the hall and turned left finding the garage door. As soon as I walked inside, I flipped the switch, letting the light flood my senses. There she was, the old pickup my father had been working on since I was a kid. She was covered with dust and looked like she hadn’t been worked on since I left. The truck was a little rusty around the edges, but she was what I needed at that very moment. A distraction.

Throwing my jacket on the workbench, I rolled up the sleeves of my sweatshirt and decided to dig right in. Pops had left the tool belt on the front seat, so I opened the door, placed it on the ground, and then popped the hood. When I opened her up, she whined at me, and I smiled. Putting the tool belt on, I kicked the stool Pops had bought me years ago over to the side of the truck, and I moved in. She was a mess. Everything was out of place, and it took me three tries to get the oil filler cap off the damn thing, but not before I cut my finger on it.

“Shit,” I said quietly and with feeling. But after that little hiccup, everything started to go smoothly, and my mind began to wander. I thought about the vision, Mike, and finally James. And my mind went back to a time before all the monster and the cheaters. Back to when I was just a kid having some summer fun.

“Crud,” I remembered screaming, sucking on my right index finger. I had scratched it on a piece of metal. Thankfully, it wasn’t bleeding, so I just went back to work. The garage door was wide open because it was so hot out. And after a minute of me working on the truck, Jess came out wearing a pink polka dot bikini, setting up her beach chair on the driveway.

“Jessie,” I called out.

“What, twerp?” she asked, rubbing herself all over with baby oil. She even put the oil in her dark blonde hair. It was gross. But she was four years older than me, and when you’re thirteen and your sister is seventeen, it’s a big difference. She is always the boss of you, and you’re forced to look up to her. And if she’s anything like my sister, she never lets you forget it.

“Wanna come and help me with the truck?” I asked nicely, trying to get her to bite. I mean, I just wanted her to do something with me.

“Not on your life,” she said, lying back in the chair.

“Fine,” I huffed, “be a fuddy
-
duddy.”

“I’m tellin’ Moms you cursed,” she whined.

“Fuddy
-
duddy is
not
a curse.”

“Yeah, it is,” she argued with me.

“Moms,” I yelled.

“What?” she answered, her voice muffled by the walls.

“Is fuddy
-
duddy a curse word?” I asked her, knowing I was right.

“No, sweetheart, it’s not.”

“See?” I said, sticking my tongue out at my older sister.

“Whatever,” she breathed and went back to tanning.

“Patricia darling,” Moms yelled, “your father wants you to check the engine on that bucket of bolts so he won’t be out there all bloody night long.”

“Right away, Moms,” I answered with gusto.

“And be careful,” she told me.

“You got it!” I positioned the stool so that I could look over the side. The engine was a mess. Every part was either borrowed from another truck or just didn’t fit properly, but I worked on it anyway. It was my job, and I did it well.

I heard Jess shift in her chair, and a dog bark. “Hey there, Jim,” she cooed at him, and I turned to smile at the old Golden Retriever he was walking.

“Buddy,” I said, and he came bounding up to me as Jim let the leash go. Buddy loved being petted by me, and he absolutely hated my sister, which made me love him more. I jumped off the stool, getting to my knees in the process. The dog licked me while I scratched his ears, listening to my sister and Jim’s conversation.

“When are you gonna ask me to the prom, Jim?” she asked him. She was the head cheerleader, and he was the captain of the wrestling team, before Bobby. So naturally, Jess thought he belonged to her.

“I’m not goin’,” he replied, and I could hear her gasp. “But, you know, if I decide to I’ll let you know.”

“You better, James Collins,” she purred, and I looked up to see her pointing her breasts at him. “Or I’ll be very upset.”

“Will do,” he placated her then looked at me. “I better go get Buddy before he eats your sister.”

Jess leaned back in her chair, putting her sunglasses on. “Wouldn’t be a great loss,” she muttered, and Buddy barked at her.

“Good boy,” I whispered in his ear, and he licked me again.

“How are you, Pat?” Jim asked, kneeling down next to me.

I shrugged. “Fine. You?”

“Good,” he said loudly and then whispered, “Please, Pat.”

I shook my head. “No,” I answered quietly. Jim had asked me to go to prom with him.

He sighed. “Why are you making this so hard for me?”

“You’re too old for me. That’s why.” I got up off the ground, and Buddy followed me to the truck.

Jim helped me back onto the stool, and he watched in silence for about five minutes while he handed me the right tools at the right time. Then he started in on me again. “Please, Patty Melt, I’m dying.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re not dying. You’re just a teenage boy with too many hormones. That’s all.”

“You say that every time I come here,” he huffed. By now, Jess was listening to her music full blast with her headphones on, so she was unable to hear anything. “I love you, Pat. I never felt like this before, and it’s killing me.”