Free Fractured Fairy Tales by Catherine Stovall Page B

she grumbled as she climbed the stairs to his room. “Who needs the freaking lottery?”
    Jack’s door was shut, shaking slightly in its frame. He was listening to something heavy then, one of the bands Rose tried to keep up with but inevitably lost track of. A band he loved had split up recently, she knew that much for sure – he’d been devastated and sales of their greatest hits CD had jumped at the store. Maybe that was what he was sulking about. He was at that tricky age where she was never quite sure what was weighing on him, not that he had any shortage of options. But he was a good kid—the best kid—and he deserved to have fun with his friends. Especially if that meant he could gather intel from within the mysterious Keswick Mansion.
    She knocked on Jack’s door, finding a blank spot between the novelty license plates his dad had sent him from the road. The volume from inside decreased, so she could hear him swinging his long legs out of the bed and padding across to the door.
    It swung open, revealing her favourite, and only, nephew in all his teenage angst-ridden glory. He hadn’t even dressed for the party—or at least, she hoped not. She’d raised him better than to think he could wear a pair of baggy old jeans and an oversized tour tee shirt to a party. He was such a handsome boy with his piercing hazel eyes and charmingly dishevelled dark hair, she just wished he believed it.
    “Jack Daveyson, why are you hiding away up here? Don’t you have a party to go to?” She asked, hands on her hips, hoping she looked stern.
    “You know, it really creeps me out when my friends call to speak to you instead of me,” he replied, rolling his eyes.
    “You should just be grateful that the women in your life get along so well,” Rose pointed out, smiling softly.
    “And people wonder why I’m gay.”
    “Why don’t you want to go to the party, sweetheart?” He stepped away from the door, clearly sensing a long conversation. She slipped inside, glancing quickly around the room to make sure it was tidy.
    His bed was made but the cover was creased. His record player was switched on, the vinyl spinning hypnotically, filling the room with a softer version of whatever he’d been listening to earlier. The posters that covered his wall were curling slightly at the odd corners he hadn’t stuck down, but apart from that, everything seemed pretty neat. Yeah, he was definitely a good kid.
    “I’m not the partying type,” he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. She sat down beside him, bumping her shoulder against his.
    “I know the whole drinking-dancing-partying thing doesn’t come naturally to you,” Rose began. “And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. But you’re nearly eighteen years old, Jack. You should be putting yourself out there, taking chances and making memories.”
    “I don’t even understand why the Keswick kid invited us,” he admitted with a sigh. “He’s never shown much of an interest in us before.”
    “Hasn’t he been going back and forth between boarding schools his whole life?” She pointed out. “Maybe he just hasn’t had the time before. I’ve seen him around town, he’s hotter than Palm Springs in a heat wave.”
    Jack made a face, sticking out his tongue and crossing his eyes, but she knew he didn’t really mind her talking like that. There wasn’t a massive age difference between them after all, and she wasn’t his mom. Not really.
    “Or like the fires of Hell,” he snorted, running his hands through his hair. “Jess did say that he dropped the names of a couple of really great bands when he was talking to her, maybe he’s not too bad.”
    “So, the fact that he looks like he just walked out of a high end fashion magazine does nothing for you, but throw around a couple of band names and he gets the seal of approval?” Rose asked. “You baffle me, kid.”
    “I’m a mystery,” Jack murmured, eyes bright through his lowered lashes. “Maybe I