The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Thirty Five - Results

Results

Punching the pillows in the green room turned out to be surprisingly helpful. I’d already cleaned the mess Parish had made in the kitchen, wiping off the coffee on the walls and sweeping up all the pieces of shattered ceramic. Tubman wandered in at some point while I was working, but I’d still been so mad that I’d yelled at her and she ran off.

The wall in the hallway was surprisingly, and thankfully, undamaged. I didn’t know what I would have done if Parish had left dents in the drywall. I didn’t know how to fix walls.

I couldn’t cry anymore – I’d spent all my angry tears on the kitchen and was just too tired to cry. But I had plenty of angry energy left and needed some kind of release before I exploded, so I did the only thing I could think of and ran upstairs where I’d started punching pillows.

“Stupid Parish,” I muttered to myself, slamming my fist into the pillow. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Asshole. Jerk. Assface. Douchebag. Moron. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.”

I didn’t fail to notice that my chant mostly consisted of the odd nickname I’d developed for him. I ignored it though, because it helped me envision his face in the pillows, which made punching them so much more relieving.

By the time Ace returned, I’d moved on from punching the pillow and had taken up screaming into it instead. When I heard her bike shooting up the driveway, I lifted my head off the pillow, stopping mid-scream and looked at the clock, idly wondering if Parish was back and was staying downstairs to avoid me.

“Good,” I said to myself. “Let him stay down there. The ass. I don’t want to see him.”

The minute I said it, I knew it was a lie. I did want to see him.

I was pissed, yes, but more than anything I was hurt. And even though he’d acted like the biggest asshole on the planet, I knew he’d been hurting too. Despite the fact that my mother and I didn’t have the best relationship, I knew I’d have probably acted in a similar way to Parish had our roles been reversed.

Downstairs, I heard the front door slam open, followed by the sounds of Ace’s boots on the hardwood floors. “Parish!” I heard her call, and glowered. He must’ve been downstairs. “Parish!” She called again. “PARISH!”

Pissed off at Parish again, I slid off the bed and yanked open the bedroom door. “He’s not here!” I yelled snippily, standing at the top of the staircase. Ace was running down the hallway headed for the staircase and stopped when she saw me.

“What?” I didn’t miss the note of horror in her voice.

“He’s not here,” I said again, my voice coated with worry instead of anger this time. “He went for a walk.”

Ace’s eyes went impossibly wide. “No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” she chanted, turning on her heels and running back the way she came.

“Ace!” Terror gripped my heart as I bounded down the stairs and ran to catch up with her. “Ace, what’s wrong? What’s wrong?” I caught up to her in the foyer. She’d pulled her phone out of her pocket and was fumbling to unlock her screen. I grasped her free hand, noticing that it was shaking just as badly as mine. “Ace, what’s wrong.”

“I, I, I…” She got the phone unlocked and dialed in a number. “I was on my way back home from the job and I just as I was nearing our street I saw this white transportation truck turning the same way and… and …” She faltered, voice trembling. “And I didn’t think anything of it until I reached our street and saw it slow down and… and someone got off and started running in the direction of the shop—”

“No.” I let go of her hand, feeling nauseas. “No, please no.”

“the truck slowed down,” Ace continued, oblivious to the fact that whoever she’d dialed had picked up the phone and was listening to her. “and another person got off and that’s when I finally realized something was wrong and started to speed up but by the time I reacted the second man had already caught up with the first one and he shoved him into the back of the truck and then it just started to speed away…”

“No, no, no!”

“And I chased and I got close enough on my back to see the insignia on the truck as it turned onto the main road.”

I started running, through the open front door and down the driveway. I ran and ran and ran and ran into the night even though I knew it was too late. I didn’t need to stay and listen to know whose insignia Ace had seen.

St. Elizabeth’s.

Hot tears streaming down my face, I ran. And ran and ran until I reached the end of the driveway. The streets were empty. No vans. No trucks. No Parish.

Parish was gone.

Parish was gone.

I’d let them take him.

I sank to the ground, screaming and crying unable to control myself. My last words to him played in an endless loop in my head.

Get caught for all I care. You’d be happier without having to deal with my shit anyway, right?

Get caught for all I care.

Get caught for all I care.

Parish was gone.

*END OF BOOK TWO*

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Okay, that earlier bit's a half-lie. There IS another bonus chapter after this one, only viewable by my followers :)