Pulling into the funeral home driveway, the gate opened automatically. No matter how many times I’ve been here, it’ll always feel like eyes are watching me. Shivers run up my spine.
“Matteo and Clover should be back tonight; they’re waiting for her discharge paperwork. I don’t know what he had to do for them to let her come home and not admit her ass,” he says so casually.
I just pursed up my lips, not replying to him as he parks the car at the back of the funeral home.
Walking to the back door, I wait for him; the air smells better than inside the car; I try to breathe it all in, masking the smell in my nose.
“It’s unlocked. Also, whenever you’re ready to speak to Catherine, we're in the house at the back of the grounds…in thegroundskeeper's house.” His smile is sinister, and I don’t give him one back, just turn and walk into the funeral home.
My phone vibrates as I enter the kitchen, needing caffeine.
It’s Luca saying everything will be okay. I answer him back, but he just tells me he loves me. And the fact that he didn’t answer my question, if we're okay or not, makes my chest hurt. Fuck. I don’t want to ruin this. I need him. I’d bleed for him, cut out my heart and serve the crimson muscle on a platter for him.
My eyes blur as I sit my phone down, thinking of me and Luca, everything in-between and what ifs that are now running through my head.
“Stop it,” I chastise myself before turning and finding the coffee pot halfway full, knowing it’s probably been sitting all day, but not giving a shit.
I slosh the coffee as I pour it from the craft, spilling onto the counter. Deciding black is the only way to go at the moment, I forgo sugar and clean up the spilled liquid.
It’s so quiet in here; if you think too hard, you’ll freak yourself out…at least, I will.
I’m not sure how they live in a funeral home, surrounded by dead bodies, and live a normal life in their presence, or actually the lack of their presence.
With my cup of coffee in hand, I make my way out of the kitchen, not being able to sit down after the car ride here and the words Niko spoke.
The way they built this house… Funeral home? Whatever you want to call it is crazy. The house has hidden doors that lead to different areas. Exiting a door, I’m now in the foyer of the funeral home. Closing it behind me; it now looks like a part of the dark mahogany wall to anyone else. The grand staircase is the main focal point. The distinct smell of lilies hit my nostrils, but I can never recognize the other smell that’s always mixed with it. They’re both unsettling, just like inside Niko’s car.
I plant myself on the bottom staircase so that I get a good view of the Hall of Remembrance, where the garden is present outside its windows. Thank God the room is empty, but I find it unnerving to wonder how many bodies people have viewed within those walls.
The quietness of the house is loud. Like when you’re in a pitch-dark room and it feels like you can hear the darkness. This is how quietness feels to me. Overbearing, making my skin crawl, but I force myself to sit and listen to the silence.
Once my mug is empty, I make my way back to the kitchen, having trouble finding the right spot to touch to open the hidden door, but soon, I find it and am welcomed by the long corridor on the other side.
My body is buzzing when I enter back into the kitchen, snatching my phone and not giving myself a moment to think about what I’m fixing to do. This goes against everything in me.
The sun is high as I make my way behind the funeral home. I see the worn path I’m hoping leads me to the groundskeeper’s house. My stomach slowly falls inch by inch with every step I take. My chest hurts. I need answers because all Niko has done has made me more confused.
My thumb absentmindedly rubs my index finger, feeling the torn skin that is now sensitive, but I keep rubbing it as I keep taking steps, leading me closer to Catherine.
A break in the trees opens onto a cleared area, where a small home sits.
It’s plain and simple, nothing grand. It’s more of a shack the closer I get to it.
Licking my lips, tasting coffee, I open the small gate that surrounds the house; it greets me with a loud creek, entering closer to someone I never thought I’d willingly be close to again.
My face contorts when I take in the beautiful garden that resides in front of the house. My eyes panning in on the garden gloves haphazardly tossed next to it with sheers, forgotten about.
With a glance at the door, I take the few steps to the right, bending down, pocketing the sheers in the back of my waistband.
“We got this,” I mutter to myself lifting my fist to knock, but the door swings open before I can make contact. Standing with a shit-eating smile is Niko.
“I knew you’d come,” reaches my ears as he opens the door wider, stepping to the side, giving me room to enter.
Looking behind me at where I came, I swallow before taking a step inside. Every scenario runs through my mind as I reach back and feel the shear’s handle, giving me some comfort.
Entering, I’m taken aback by how different the inside looks compared to the outside.
My eyes scan the living room, which, along with the kitchen and dining room, is all in one.
