2. Camryn

TWO

CAMRYN

Dust swirls along the streak of sunshine streaming through the open kitchen window. According to the app on my phone, it's an unusually hot summer's day, but the chill in the house remains.

As a warm breeze drifts over my skin, I bite into my jelly toast.

Freshly showered and dressed in a white T-shirt and black jean shorts, Dominic has his AirPods in his ears and studiously ignores us all while playing with his Zippo. The guy doesn't smoke, but he carries that damn thing everywhere because it used to belong to his dad.

Seated beside him, Mom glances his way before reaching for her coffee cup and bringing it to her lips. She takes a sip and clears her throat. "Dominic will drive you to school today."

I swallow down the piece of dry toast in my mouth. "Great."

When I look at him, those hard, dark eyes swing in my direction. Dominic clenches his jaw, then looks past me like I don't exist, as though I'm unworthy of his attention. He flicks the Zippo and strikes the wheel.

My chest tightens when a flame jumps to life, and I suck in a breath, hating how his dismissal hurts.

I finish my toast in silence, enjoying the breeze from the open window and the birdsong outside. Such a novelty.

Before we moved here, we lived in the city, amongst the misty sewers, pizza smells, and the sound of honking cars and angry taxi drivers. I'm not used to this peaceful silence.

Mom discusses installing the surveillance cameras we brought from the previous house. I'm only half-listening. "We're in the middle of nowhere. I doubt anyone will break in."

That's the understatement of the year.

"You can never be too careful," she replies. "Dominic, can you help me install them later?"

"Sure," he mutters.

"How do you guys feel about today?" Mom asks, sipping her coffee. "First day at your new school."

Another light breeze brings with it the scent of dry grass and pine.

Shrugging my shoulders, I glance at Dominic, who's now typing on his phone and ignoring the world around him. "I don't know yet."

"It's okay to be nervous," Mom replies in a soft tone. "It's a new start."

The move doesn't bother me.

Unlike Dominic, who had an on-and-off girlfriend back home, I had no friends. He made sure of that when my mom married his dad.

This can be a chance for me to change all that. Though I don't mind being alone, I would like to have a friend.

"Don't worry, Mom." I smile reassuringly. "Everything will be fine."

A loud scoff across the table steals my attention, and I fix my gaze on Dominic, whose dark eyes gleam with pure sadism as he stares at me for long minutes, though it could be mere seconds. I feel naked beneath that heated look. Dominic doesn't have to speak. No, the gleam in his gaze tells me everything I need to know. Nothing will be different now. He will still go out of his way to make my life hell.

Without another word, he stands up, pockets his phone and Zippo, and walks out. Shortly after, the front door slams. Mom releases a tired sigh as she rubs her eyes to ward off a migraine.

"Don't worry about him, Mom."

I feel sorry for her.

She's lost everything, yet fought to stay strong for us, but I can see she's two seconds away from breaking down.

When that day finally arrives, she won't be able to get back up. That thought sobers me enough to stand. Dominic won't wait for me forever.

I put the dishes away while Mom stares out the window with a faraway look. Bruno sits beside her, thumping his tail against the threadbare carpet, his tongue hanging out.

After I pick up my backpack from the back of my chair, I stroke him behind the ear and kiss Mom on the cheek.

She pats my hand on her shoulder, smiling sadly. "Have a good day, sweetheart."

"You too. I hope your first shift at the hospital goes well."

On one hand, it's good news that she found a position with an immediate start. At least it's something after all the bad luck we've had as a family. But on the other hand, it's an hour and a half commute, and that's not in peak traffic. Our new home truly is in the middle of nowhere.

I exit the house, slamming into a wall of heat. Hot and sticky sweat beads on my forehead as I hurry down the front steps, backpack slung over my shoulder.

Dominic is already in the car, his hand hanging over the steering wheel as he tries to tune the radio.

When I open the door, a blast of heat escapes, and I thank the heavens for putting on frayed denim shorts and a light gray tank top. It's already difficult to breathe in this scorching summer weather.

I climb in and place the backpack between my feet, the leather seat burning my thighs and shoulders. Dominic twists the knob until a warped voice breaks through the static before it's gone again.

"Fuck this," he mutters.

Strapping myself in, I unzip my bag and dig through it for my water bottle, knowing I'll guzzle water in this heat like it's going out of fashion.

Droplets spill onto my chin, so I wipe them off and then offer him the bottle. Dominic disregards my presence, twisting the knob a few more times before giving up and revving the engine, leaving the static noise to fill the silence.

Though I'm used to his asshole behavior, the urge to toss my water bottle at him strikes me so hard, I have to clutch it in my grip.

It would be a waste of water on a hot day.

Dominic puts his arm behind my headrest and twists his body, spinning the wheel as he reverses out of the driveway, which is just a path of dirt road.

Surrounded by citrus, leather, and a hint of sweat, I hold my breath, trying my damnedest not to inhale his drugging scent.

While my heart thrashes hard against my ribcage, his breathing remains the same. Calm, steady, and unaffected.

He sits back, and I can finally inhale a breath into my oxygen-starved lungs, though his smell, his masculine, clit-tingling smell, still lingers in the air. As I roll down the window to let in some fresh air, his enticing scent mixes and mingles with the nearby crops and cow manure.

With nothing but the country road ahead and the heat shimmering in the distance like a mirage, my thoughts drift. There's something to be said about the novelty of driving down an open, sunbaked road without congested traffic, toxic car fumes, and honking horns. I could get used to the feel of the warm summer breeze in my hair and the sight of tall cornstalks and barn structures.

What I don't like as much is the roadkill we pass, and when we drive past another crushed armadillo with its innards spilling out, I swallow down the saliva in my mouth, wishing I could wipe the sight of dried blood on the cracked asphalt from my mind.

Tapping his thumb on the steering wheel, Dominic swings his eyes in my direction, then switches off the radio, fed up with the loud static.

The thick silence that follows only intensifies my unease. Dominic isn't easy to be around. He has this…aura that radiates hostility and nefarious desires. At the best of times, he's standoffish and apathetic. In moments like these, when I'm trapped with him inside a confined space, it's claustrophobic.

His deep voice rumbles in the small space like an incoming storm rolling across the sky. "You'll have to find another way to get to school from now on."

My shoulders stiffen. "I don't have a car, and it's too far to walk."

"Not my problem."

I glare at his handsome side profile as we drive past a pasture of yellow canola flowers.

Dominic doesn't care if I have to walk an hour to get to school. No, he would drive by me with a taunting smile and a raised middle finger.

He confirms as much when he says, "You don't have to walk. There's a school bus."

Crossing my arms, I look out the window, ignoring his presence the way he ignores mine.

Neither of us speaks until we pull up in the parking lot outside a small college.

As one, we peer through the windshield at the gray building that resembles something out of the seventies.

"It looks like a prison," I mutter.

Beside me, Dominic scoffs as he opens the door and exits the vehicle. His head pops back inside and he pins me in place with his dark eyes. "Don't talk to me. Don't even so much as look in my direction."

Then he's gone, slamming the door shut behind him.

I watch him stride toward the building and ascend the front steps in that assured way he has of a cocky, full-of-himself man who has always fit in and never stood out against the grain. This won't be any different. It doesn't matter that he was born and raised in the city. People flock to him everywhere he goes.

When he passes, wide-eyed and flustered women stop to look at him. Yes, Dominic has that effect on women, and it sours something inside me.

I push open the door and reach for my bag in the footwell. Stepping out into the scorching heat, I shut the car door behind me and settle the bag on my shoulder.

The sun beats down on me as though I have personally offended it.

A bead of sweat trickles between my breasts as I gaze up at the imposing building in front of me.

Unlike my stepbrother, with his unshakable confidence, nerves twist my stomach, and my palms grow clammy. I'm not good at social settings. I'm even worse at making friends.

Before my anxiety gets the better of me, I set off toward the entrance, pretending I don't notice how the students observe me with their curious, assessing eyes.

"Hey, new girl," someone calls out as I near the entrance.

I turn my head to locate the voice, spotting a few guys near a large tree on the lawn?—

Slamming into a big body, I stumble, dropping my backpack, which is still partly unzipped after I rooted through it for the bottle of water. The contents spill out on the ground.

With mumbled apologies, I kneel to pick it all up as a set of legs pass me, and a voice tells me to watch where I'm going . Tears prick my eyes as I shove the pencil case inside the bag. I zip it back up and rise to my feet, not trusting my shaky legs to carry me inside.

Laughter drifts on the wind—the same boys who called me out minutes earlier. Nausea overwhelms me and my cheeks burn, which has nothing to do with the unnaturally hot weather.

As I enter the building, I keep my head down and clutch the bag to my chest. If I thought it would be cooler in here, I was wrong. The heat feels stifling and almost panic-inducing.

Weaving through crowds of strangers, who all turn their heads as I pass, I locate reception and place my bag on the counter.

The lady behind the desk peers at me from behind her kitten glasses. "You must be the second Barker sibling?" She hands me a file and then types a few notes on a very old, outdated computer. "You'll find everything you need in there."

Behind me, a girl with curly, green-dyed hair and black lipstick clears her throat. "Camryn Barker?"

The lady behind the counter ignores us.

Apparently, I'm dismissed.

Shouldering my bag, I turn to the girl. "That's me."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Gwen." She has a toothy smile and cute freckles on her nose.

Freckles that I envy.

"I'm here to show you around." Gwen invades my space and forces me back. She swipes up the file on the desk, and then sets off walking, expecting me to follow.

I exchange a look with the receptionist, who lifts a shoulder in a careless shrug. "Better hurry. She waits for no one."

"You don't say."

I don't miss the receptionist's small smile as I make my way down the hallway, barely catching up to Gwen before she turns the corner in a whirlwind of cherry body spray and studded boots.

"So, new girl, is it true you moved into the Victorian estate behind Wilfred Miller's farm?"

Distracted, I tear my gaze away from Dominic, who has not only found his lecture hall but also surrounded himself with big-busted women who ask him a million questions in their southern accents.

"Yes," I reply, as his eyes clash with mine and darken. He looks away just as fast, and I face forward, clearing my throat.

"This is your lecture hall," Gwen says, stopping so abruptly that I nearly crash into her. She taps the door beside her and steps back.

I take the file, turning page after page until I find my schedule, wondering why they still use paper files.

While I skim the information, her curious emerald eyes lined with kohl bore into me, and she scuffs the ground. "How much do you know of the estate's history?"

"Not much," I reply. "Have you seen the place? It was cheap because of how much repair work it needs."

She takes my paperwork before I've had a chance to memorize my schedule, leaning closer. "It was cheap because no one wanted to buy it. The place is cursed."

A chuckle of disbelief bubbles up from my chest. "Cursed?"

"People died in that house. You should look it up."

She walks off before I can ask more questions. But I promptly follow, baffled and a little confused.

Gwen has an aura about her that I covet. She moves like she owns the place, and like other's opinions of her are irrelevant.

I find it refreshing.

She shows me around the college, talking animatedly about everything under the sun until my social battery is drained and I feel ready to hide in the bathroom for the foreseeable future.

"Your brother has been here for less than five minutes, and the girls are already flocking to him like flies to a pile of shit."

I nearly walk into a group of boys, nowhere near as familiar with these hallways as she is. "He's always been popular. Let me guess, you think he's hot, too?"

She pulls a face. "God, no. I'm into girls."

I love her a little bit at this moment.

The only girls who ever spoke to me back home were those who used me to get close to Dominic, but then, as soon as they realized he hated me, they dropped me faster than you could blink.

"I hope you're okay with that?"

Taken aback, I purse my mouth. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She flings her arm over my shoulder, prickling my nose with her cherry scent. "I knew I liked you. You're not like the other stuck-up girls from around here."

My throat closes, and my chest swells. I've never had a girl, or anyone, say they like me before.

By the time we finally enter the library, I've found out she has a little brother, Kai, who likes comic books but isn't a fan of fried eggs, her mother is a vet and insists on Gwen volunteering on weekends, and her father once won a cornhusking competition.

Gwen leads me toward the back to a table near the window, where a group of students have gathered.

They look up when she releases me and slams her hands on the surface with an almost manic smile. "Hey, fuckers," she says. "I want you to meet the new girl." She straightens up and shoves me forward with a hand on my back. "New girl, meet my friends Benny, Aron, Brittany, and Lily."

Four sets of eyes take me in, sweeping over my raven hair, makeup-free face, gray tank top, denim shorts, pale legs, and red Chucks.

Benny, a lanky guy with curly brown hair and full lips, waves first with an open-palm sweep of his hand and a kind smile.

Beside him, Brittany winks in greeting, which I find strange but sweet, then runs a hand through her pink tresses.

Lily speaks first. "You're the one who's moved into the haunted house behind Wilfred's farm."

It's impossible to miss how the energy shifts.

Aron kicks out a chair beside him in an invitation, and I drop my bag to the floor before lowering myself, feeling nervous and out of my element.

I have no experience with friends.

Gwen joins us, too, plopping down in the only other free seat beside mine.

She looks at me, with her elbows on the armrest. "It's said a demon haunts the grounds."

"What a way to drop her in it," chuckles Benny. "You'll scare her off."

"She needs to know?—"

"A demon?" I ask, as my heart beats a little faster.

Aron leans forward, his black hair falling over his brow. "From the underworld."

"You're scaring her," Lily says, then smacks his arm, which causes him to laugh.

"It's the truth," he argues, still chuckling.

"What do you mean by a demon?" I ask, looking between them all.

Brittany considers me, arms crossed, then sits forward and places her elbows on the table. "It's said that a family used to live in that house a long time ago. They kept to themselves. Never really spoke to anyone. The father was into all that dark stuff. Apparently, he bargained with the souls of his family members for money and eternal life. They all went missing one day and were never found again, except for the dad, who'd committed suicide." She shrugs. "At least that's how the rumor goes."

"And ever since," Gwen says, looking at me sideways, "the house has stood empty, and anyone who ventures near it dies."

"Dies how?"

She shrugs once more and eases back in her chair. "Suicide, mostly, or some freak accident."

Aron chuckles with a shake of his head. "It happened once." Then he looks at me pointedly. "No one goes near it because the whole town thinks the place is cursed or some shit."

"Oh, shut it," Brittany says. "They both died a week later. What are the odds of that?"

Aron rolls his eyes, and Benny coughs into his closed fist to hide his snicker.

My eyes widen. "What happened?"

"Clarissa was a freshman at high school, and Harvey was on the football team. They'd been to a party. It was all part of some stupid dare. They were supposed to enter the property and film themselves making out in one of the rooms. Your typical high school shit."

"And then what?"

"A week later, Clarissa disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"A witness in a passing tractor saw her enter the woods that back onto the property."

"She disappeared?" I press, biting the inside of my lip.

Gwen nods. "But it doesn't end there. The same day she disappeared, Harvey's parents found him in the bathtub. He had electrocuted himself with a hairdryer."

Goosebumps erupt over my arms as a chill slithers down my spine. "I don't believe in the supernatural. Whatever happened must have logical explanations."

They exchange amused glances before Brittany pops her gum and smiles brightly. "We should do a séance at your house one day to see if we can communicate with it."

Lily's lips part as she gasps. "Are you crazy? No!"

"Why not?" Brittany looks at me then. "She's up for it."

"Why not?" She opens and closes her mouth like a fish. "Because it's dangerous. People die who venture inside that house, or have you forgotten? I don't want to go anywhere near it."

Gwen smiles apologetically, sensing my discomfort, while they continue bickering. Aron plays on his phone, and Benny studies me, as though he finds me intriguing.

I suppose I am the city chick.

The outsider.

The new girl who has never seen cornstalks or scarecrows in real life until yesterday.

"Welcome to the unhinged gang," Gwen whispers in my ear, loud enough for the others to hear, and pulls me close with her arm around my neck.

I think I've officially made some friends.