Behind The Mask

Chapter 38

Walking through the house with its tall ceilings, creepy portraits, and obvious history, I feel small in comparison. It's a different type of small than standing next to the Empire State building or the Statue of Liberty. You expect those things to be real. You expect and understand the history connected to it, but this is something different. What looks like a house from the outside, opens up into a museum that stretches on forever, leading you past Civil War uniforms in glass cases, stuffed grizzly bears, long red persian carpets, and black and white pictures of people who has long been gone from this earth. The problem however is, that you feel unwelcome in this house of ghosts. This house is not meant for the living. It belongs to an almost forgotten century, long dead.

"You can't call this a house," I whisper to Cameron. "It's more like a palace."

"You kinda get used to it. Lady Lalaland loves the stairways. They make for perfect Insta photos," Cameron answers with a grin. "And yeah, these old houses are really something else completely. Kinda makes me feel like I am the Queen in Buckingham Palace."

"You can say that again," I mutter under my breath as I walk past yet another huge ass portrait with a man on a horse. "Looks like your in-laws fought for the South..."

"Yeah. They are kinda old-school. Well, not really old school, just an old family. Wait till you meet Grace. You are gonna love her!" Cameron squeals, making me jump a little bit. It seems unnatural that a loud voice might be allowed in this house. "She's like our age, but she is gonna be my mother-in-law. I have gotten an awesome shopping buddy."

"Grace..." I taste on the name. "She sounds a little stuck up."

"Not at all. Don't let her name fool you at all. She is a descendant from old voodoo practitioners that came from Haiti somewhere in the 1800's. She says that it is only fair that she gets to live in the riches that her people built with their sweat and tears," Cameron answers as we walk past yet another military uniform in a glass case, before he opens a door to the left.

Cameron half runs into the room, and falls down onto an antique daybed standing in the middle of what seems like a tiny sitting room, with three doors leading from the room.

"Welcome to my boudoir," Cameron says, throwing his arms above his head. "If you go through the South door, you will find my bedroom, which leads to my own walk-in closet and a bathroom. The West door is my own personal office. The East door goes to my sex dungeon where I think I might have to lock you up."

For a moment I try and register what I have just heard, playing Cameron's words over again in my mind to make sure I heard correctly.

"A sex dungeon..?" I ask. "It's official. I always knew rich people were all insane."

I gulp as I watch Cameron get off the daybed and walk over to me.

"It will be for your own safety handsome. You were naughty and obviously you cannot be trusted to run wild," Cameron whispers in my ear.

"You're being serious?" I ask with hesitation thick in my voice. I try and study Cameron's face for a sign that he is only joking, but he seems more serious than ever with one eyebrow raised slightly.

"Off course I'm not you douche!" Cameron shouts in my face and then gives me a push, before turning around and walking over to a cabinet against the wall, which he opens up to reveal a little bar fridge where he takes out a cider. "For fuck sakes Brody! Are you completely off your mind? Fucking around with Chris? The guy is a nutter by the sounds of it, and then you go and play footsie with him. Of all the completely stupid things you could have done, this is the worst by far. I ask again, what the fuck were you think..."

Cameron however doesn't finish the sentence as he rushes over to the other side of the room where Albert is sniffing against the leg of an antique Queen Anne sideboard.