This House Is Not A Home: Bleeding Heart (Scomiche) (Troyler) (Kavi)

Chapter 2 - February 13th (Part 2)

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“You came out the side door. Did you have to sneak out?” He asked me as we drove on towards where the house was.

I nodded. “Claudette said to stay away from you.”

He laughed darkly and then sighed. “She was so hot and cold with me. In the end I think she liked me a bit so I figured she’d give you a good opinion on me. Guess I should have known better.”

“Why didn’t she want me to trust you?” I asked him seriously.

“I was a lot like you.” He said to me with a smile. “I don’t listen and I’m always getting into shit I shouldn’t be getting into.”

“But you’re a cop.”

“Yup. Irony is my favorite.” He winked and then laughed to himself. “As far as the team knows I’m surveying someone’s house in Millville, so I have until 11 until I have to have the car back to the precinct.”

I became nervous at the thought. “I should get back earlier than that…” I told him and looked at the time. 12:34 p.m. I started to panic slightly as we got closer to the house. The last thing I said to Roxas was defiant and the last conversation we had was a full out fight. It possibly could have been our last conversation and I couldn’t leave it like that.

“I have until 5.” I told him and he nodded at me.

“Sure…” He started. “I don’t know how much we’ll be able to get done.”

I ignored the statement as we turned onto the road the street was on and I stared out the window at the trees as we went past. “Is there anything else out here besides the house and the graveyard?”

“There’s a house down the street.”

“The Michealsons live there, I know…what else though?”

“Nothing I’ve seen.” He said and I sighed. We were really utterly alone out here.

We pulled up to the house and got out of the car. We went through the front door and turned to Sticks. “I want you to tell me how much you know.” I said and he raised an eyebrow.

“Well…I know Mrs. Hemingway and Mr. Montgomery are dead. I know two boys that lived here, Richard Foley and Darren Martin both died here mysteriously. One was a suicide and the other was murder but –“

I held my hand up. As far as the cops knew, Natalie and Scar were missing and not dead. “How do you know they’re dead?” I asked him dumbly.

He sat down on the couch in the living room and I stayed standing in the threshold against the wooden pane. “Foley was found hanging from a tree…cut and dry suicide. Mr. Montgomery was found with his throat ripped out, no fingerprints and no traces of anyone even touching him…Mrs. Hemingway and Martin are missing but really? That’s how this place works, Mitch. People die. They don’t just go missing.”

I sighed and thought of what to say next. “Tell me about the ghosts.” I told him to see how much he knew.

“We have bigger things to worry about.” He said and I shook my head.

“Tell me so I know I can trust you.”

He looked annoyed but went on anyway. “When I lived here there was a boy nicknamed Pirate who kept saying that there was a young boy running up and down the hall upstairs. One day he was talking about it at the dining room table and Claudette nearly dropped all the food she was serving. She muttered the name ‘Gregory’ and never said another word about it.