Billy & The Beast (Ever After, New York #3) - Eli Easton Page 0,67

breakfast; maybe even, if I were luckier than I deserved, willing to talk to me—kept me from turning the truck around and leaving.

Either Billy was lying or Emmanuel was.

The dream I’d had was a sure sign that my subconscious was profoundly disturbed and confused. I had to learn the truth, one way or the other. I should have spoken to Billy two weeks ago, gotten his side of the story. But I’d been so crushed, and Emmanuel had made the threat seem so dire.

Well. It was time to remedy that.

I put on an old New York Mets baseball cap. It didn’t hide the mask, but I hoped it made it less noticeable at first glance. I wore a long-sleeved black shirt, black gloves, and jeans. No one was on the street as I walked up the sidewalk. The gate at the white picket fence was as crooked as the house, and it took me a moment to open it. Then I was on the front porch.

I curled my hands into fists, relaxed, curled, relaxed, before I brought myself to knock on the door. My mouth was dry and my pulse raced. I was about to see Billy. I wanted to see him—desperately—but, at the same time, I was afraid to.

The door opened and I was face-to-face with a woman who could only be Billy’s mother. She was tall and slender with thick, chestnut hair like Billy’s. It hung to her shoulders in a blunt, no-fuss style and had filaments of gray. Her face was drawn and the weight around her eyes aged her, but her expression was light.

She wore an apron dabbled with paint and was wiping her hands on a cloth. There was a spot of white on her chin. She drew back a bit, reacting to my mask. Then recognition dawned. “You’re Aaron.”

It sounded like an accusation. I stuffed my gloved hands in the front pockets of my jeans. “Yes, ma’am. You must be Mrs. Martin.”

“If you’re looking for Billy, he’s not here.”

“Oh.” My heart fell. “Will he be around later today?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her expression cold. “No, he went to go see his father. In California.”

“Oh.” I felt a wave of heavy dread. Billy had left Ever After? I knew he stuck close to town because of his mom, so he must have been pretty motivated to leave. “Okay. Well. Thank you. I’ll—”

“Come inside,” Mrs. Martin said abruptly.

“I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Come inside, Aaron,” she ordered. Her tone brooked no argument. She stepped back and waved a hand.

Reluctantly, I stepped inside.

The door opened into a small living room with a wall of photos to the left. There were reminders of Billy everywhere. A bike helmet and shoes were on a rack near the door. I had the urge to touch them. I didn’t. The wall of photos went all the way from an adorable baby Billy grinning good-naturedly at the photographer, to awkward early adolescent camping trips, to a handsome graduation photo, to recent pictures of Billy and his mother. Something hot and wet squirmed in my chest.

His was such a simple life, so different from my own. But the boy in those photos was far from average. He was remarkable. And he’d gotten under my skin, deeply under my skin, which was remarkable in and of itself.

“I’ve been hoping for a chance to thank you,” Mrs. Martin said, “for recommending your doctor. We owe you for that, at least.”

“He’s been helpful?”

“Very much so.”

“That’s excellent. I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

It was strange to know so much about this woman yet never have met her. I wondered if she felt the same, if Billy had talked about me. She regarded me with a suppressed irritation, as if she had a grievance she was holding back.

“Have a seat on the couch. I’ll bring us some iced tea.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Sit.”

The grievance was not so suppressed that time. I went over to the couch, which was well-worn with heavy gray upholstery. I sat, wondering how many times Billy had lain on this couch to watch TV. I couldn’t resist removing a glove to feel the fabric, imagining him here.

Near the TV was a bookshelf filled with DVDs. There were a lot of old horror titles. A little wolfman statue sat on top of it. It made me smile.

They say horror movies are a way to face fear because we can control a movie, Billy had said to me once.After all, we can always turn