Free Hell Is Coming (The Watcher's Series Book 1) by N.P. Martin Page B

“There’s stuff you’re not telling me.”
    “I told you everything,” he said, moving past me into the living room, taking the whiskey bottle with him. He sat down in one of the armchairs and poured himself another glass.
    I stood staring at him, heat flushing through my body, my fists curling and uncurling. “Screw this,” I said finally. “This was a bad idea, coming here.” I stormed past him to the bedroom where I retrieved the laptop and journal and headed for the door.
    “Where you going?” he called. “Wait!” I was out the door, heading to the car when he came out after me. “What about your brother?”
    “I’ll find him myself,” I said, opening the car door and throwing the laptop and journal into the back seat. “Maybe I’ll sell my soul to get him back.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous.” He was holding the door open. “You’ll get yourself killed.”
    “So you trade your soul to bring me back. Makes about as much sense as my mom trading hers for you, doesn’t it?” I pulled the door from his grip and slammed it closed, started the engine and backed out.
    “Wait!” Frank was shouting as I turned the car and started driving down the mountain road. I sped off and didn’t look back.
     
    When I got to the city, I considered that maybe I had been a little hard on Frank, but I was just so sick of the secrets. My whole life had been a lie up until that point. There I was, trying to be this ordinary girl when all along I was destined for a life that was far from ordinary, a life that would probably do me more harm than good if my mom and Frank were anything to go by, not to mention Josh. I knew Frank wasn’t telling me everything, that he was hiding something. I expected him to be open with me, considering who I was, but no, I was wrong about that.
    I couldn’t help it. I ended up driving by Diane’s house, saw the police had cordoned off the house, the forensics van and cop cars parked outside. What were they thinking happened? That I killed my foster mother? That Josh did? What would they make of the writing on the mirror? Cover-up maybe? I wanted to go in the house, look around again for clues, but I knew if I did I’d be arrested on the spot and taken in for questioning. It was a situation I’d have difficulty explaining. The cops would think I was crazy and then they would look into my background, see the statement I gave when I was seven, then they would definitely think I was nuts. They would throw me in a psych ward somewhere and I’d never get Josh back. I drove away from the house.
    I would have to be careful. No doubt the cops would be looking for me, probably have APB’s or something out for me and Josh both. I continued to drive nowhere in particular, just moving through the city streets, looking out the window, searching for Josh. Ridiculous, I know, but I was half-hoping to see him walking the streets, completely fine like nothing had happened. Instead what I saw were more demon faces, but in a new light. I knew exactly what they were now and I kept wondering if any of them had something to do with Diane’s murder or Josh’s abduction. Some of the demons stared back at me, like they knew what I was; which was more than I could say for myself.
    It was for that reason that I found myself driving towards the storage facility where I’d been the day before with Kasey. The creepy old guy was there behind the reception counter, leering at me. “Back to show me those titties, I hope,” he said.
    “Go fuck yourself, old man,” I said and strode right past him, heading down the corridor to my mom’s lockup. When I got there I opened the shutter, turned on the light, and pulled the shutter back down again. I started to look around, more carefully than I did the first time now that I was alone.
    Anything to do with her ‘job,’ my mom seemed to keep in that place. It was understandable that she didn’t store any of it at the house, lest one of her children stumble across it.