Set Me Free (A Fugitive #2)(19)

"Are you ready?"

Zach's soft voice made me flinch. Forcing a brave smile, I nodded and he clicked the backdoor open. We all got out quietly and walked up the path. As we stepped up to the landing, my heart took off. I thought it might burst from my chest it was racing so fast. Alex rapped on the door twice and waited, giving me a sweet smile that told me I was brave.

After a minute of awkward waiting, Alex tried again, but still nothing. Zach bent down to peer through the window, pressing his nose to the glass. "I don't think anyone lives here."

"Why wouldn't anyone be here? I thought the house would have been sold."

"Not necessarily." Alex crouched down to look at the lock on the front door. "It might be yours."

My brain hiccuped. "Excuse me?"

Reaching into his back pocket, Alex slipped out his wallet, pulling his credit card free. "Your parents probably had insurance. The house was paid off and now belongs to you. Usually these kinds are things are set up in a trust and the kids can have the house when they turn 21." Shoving the card into the crack of the door, he jiggled it up and down, trying to free the lock. "If you don't resurface before then, the house will go to auction." He stepped back with a frustrated sigh. The door remained solidly closed. "That's just a guess, of course. I don't know what your parents put in their wills, but we could find out."

He slapped my arm as he walked past me and headed for the back of the house. My mind was reeling as I jumped the fence. I waited for Zach and Elliot to land in the backyard beside me before following Alex. Flicking my thumb at the house, I watched Alex give the back door a jiggle.

"Are you saying this house is mine?"

"Quite likely."

"But I don't want it. I could never live here again after what happened."

With a grunt he stepped away from the door and gave me his full attention. "No, I get that. But you could sell it. Maybe fund your way to college."

I sniggered. "We all know I'm not going to college. I don't even have a legal transcript. I haven't officially attended high school, let alone graduated."

"Not yet you haven't." Alex winked at me then threw a look at Zach before crouching down and trying his credit card trick on the back door.

A thought suddenly came to me as I watched him struggle and I frowned, turning around and heading for the wooden table on the back patio. Behind it sat an old terracotta pot. I peeked inside and smiled, lifting up the top rock and striking gold.

"No way." I shook my head. "Spare key's still here."

I dug it out and walked back to the door, passing it to Alex. He gave me a dry look before taking it off me. "Thanks."

Zach nudged me with his shoulder, giving me a grin as Alex eased the door open and stepped inside. My smile fled the second I walked through the door. The musty smell hid none of my memories, they piled back on top of me like an avalanche.

The orange tiles on the sunroom floor, the faded rug in the corner that Mom wanted to replace. I stepped into the living area feeling heavy, yet fragile. All the furniture was wrapped in plastic or covered with big sheets. The piano was draped in an old quilt, the one that used to hang on the wall in the spare room. I could see myself sitting on the stool and practicing my scales with an evil glare at the black and white keys. I always hated piano practice.

"Should we give you a minute?" Alex asked quietly.

"No, I want to get this done."

"Well, let's go check upstairs first. See if we can find your Dad's lock box."

I nodded, in favor of anything that would delay the trip to the kitchen. Grabbing the bannister I clung to it as we walked up the stairs. My feet were lead and my arms were cotton wool as we reached the top and turned left towards my parents' room. We found the lock box just where I remembered it. It was open.

"We should take it, in case he left his finger prints on it or something."

"He was wearing gloves." Black ones. Leather.

I stepped out of the room and couldn't help walking to my old room. All my posters had been taken down, my drawers draped with a white sheet and my bed sitting naked in the corner. It wasn't my room anymore. Just a shell. A shell that my parents' friends would have spent hours crying in as they wondered what had possessed me to kill my own parents and disappear.

My face bunched as I fought off the tears. I wondered what Maria thought, surely she didn't believe the lies. Had she looked for me? Tried to convince people that I was innocent?

Covering my face, I pinched my forehead between my finger and thumb, not wanting to dissolve into tears. I'd done enough crying in the last 48 hours to last me the rest of my life.

"Was this your room?"

I turned to Zach, wrapping my arms around myself with a shaky nod. "It doesn't feel like it anymore though."

"I understand." He went to reach for me, but I backed away. If he touched me now I'd give into my tears and then I'd never stop crying. "Let's get this over with."

"The others are already down in the kitchen." Zach's brown eyes were filling with anguish. I shook my head and walked past him, pulling myself together as I descended the stairs.

Walking through the dining room, I came to a stop at the basement door. I couldn't help myself. I pulled it open and stepped behind it, crouching down and peering through the crack. I saw Alex standing in the middle of the kitchen, his hands on his hips, turning a slow circle as he soaked it all in. His body morphed to that of my dad. His intense blue eyes always caught everything. I could never lie to him, never hide my disappointment or joy. He knew everything about me. And now he was gone.