The Curse of Redwood (Ivy Grove #2) - Jaclyn Osborn Page 0,15
“Are you thinking about going back to Redwood?”
“I’m not sure.”
I had gone to see Ben the day after my visit to the mansion. At first, I hadn’t known what to say. The events of that night had been so strange. Then, everything had come spilling out.
“Are you still having nightmares?” he asked.
“No.” Which was probably the most surprising part about it all. Ever since I’d visited Redwood, that magnetic pull seemed to have lightened and the bad dreams had stopped. “Now, tell me about this book. Why has it got you so in your head?”
Ben sighed again and reached for his coffee. He finished off the last of it before peering into his empty cup. Allie, a barista who fangirled over him every time he came into the coffee shop, brought over a fresh cup.
“Here you are, lovely,” she said, smiling.
“Thank you,” he answered, returning her smile. Once she walked away, he added hazelnut creamer to the cup and stirred it. His brow pulled together when he looked up at me. “What?”
“You’re such a ladies’ man.”
He rolled his eyes. “You should’ve been with me when I brought Theo to town last Halloween. He was even worse. I thought I was going to have to challenge every girl we came across to a duel.”
I laughed. “And let me guess… he was oblivious?”
“Most definitely,” Ben responded. His expression changed then, becoming more serious. “Do you ever get so fixated on something that it completely takes you over?”
“Um, have you met me? That’s been my life for, like, the past million years. Redwood Manor took over my every thought. It still kinda does.”
Ben nodded. “Well, that’s how this book is for me. Obsession is a strong word, yet it’s the closest one to describe how I feel. It scares me, Carter.”
“Maybe you should stop writing it.”
“No. I can’t do that.” Ben leaned forward on the table, his eyes darkening with fear. “I’m writing it about her.”
“Her?” Then, the answer hit me, and I exclaimed, “Lady Death?”
“Shh. Keep your voice down.” Ben held up a hand as people around us looked in our direction. “It’s not exactly about her, but the plot mirrors my own experience. My character is haunted by a woman in black. She’s followed him, always from a distance, ever since he was a young boy. The book starts when he’s an adult, and he’s trying to learn who she is. I added a bunch of supernatural elements and the horror I’m known for, but the root of the story is about him dealing with his own mortality and inevitable death.”
“Theo won’t like this.”
Any mention of Ben dying sent ghost boy into a fit.
“I know.” Ben expelled a long breath. “But it’s something I have to do. Writing is a form of therapy for me. Telling this story is helping me sort out the shit in my head. Helping me cope with almost dying.” He dropped his gaze to the table. “Sometimes I still feel like she’s watching me.”
“She’s not,” I said. “You gotta let it go, Ben. Forget about her.”
His gaze lifted to mine. “Just like you can forget about Z?”
“That’s different. Z isn’t a wrathful spirit.”
Then, Z’s words came back to me. “If you ever truly thought I was pleasant, you were greatly mistaken.”
What had he meant by that? Had he been a horrible person while alive? Had he done terrible things in death? I recalled the dreams of Ezekiel and wondered if it was really Z. That would be impossible, though. There was no way I could’ve seen into his past.
An idea struck, and I downed the last of my coffee before bouncing in my seat with anticipation. “Hey, Ben? Are you okay with making a detour before I take you home?”
“What kind of detour?”
“To the library. I want to learn all I can about Redwood Manor.”
***
“Good morning, Florence,” Ben said, nodding to the older lady behind the front desk as we entered the library.
“Mr. Cross, good to see you again.” She greeted him with a warm smile before glaring at a man who was trying to print something. “You have to pay to use the printer, sir.”
I chuckled under my breath. Women both young and old had a thing for my best friend.
“Not a word,” Ben muttered, as we walked farther into the room.
Ben had experience in navigating the library, which was one reason I had invited him. I enjoyed researching morbid shit, but compared to Ben—who did this crap for a living—I was an amateur who