Deeper (The Deeper Chronicles #1) (33 page)

She didn’t get a chance to answer Noah.

“We’re here, Mr. Adams,” Zach called out from the driver’s seat.

Less than a minute later, Avi found herself standing on a square of concrete and looking up at a simple moss-green home.

Noah moved ahead and up a short flight of steps. “This is the first time I’ll be using the front door.”

Avi paused at the nervous edge in his tone. “Why?”

“Because people like me should use the side door.”

She frowned and was about to ask for an explanation, when she noticed the tightness around his mouth and balled fists at his side.

“Come on.” He took a key from his pocket and used it to open the door. “Go on in.”

Avi’s steps were cautious. “This is Harry’s place,” he whispered from behind her. Sadness tinged his low-spoken words.

He moved past her, going farther inside while she hung back by the front door. She leaned on the door, rooted to the spot.
What was the first thing Harry did when he pushed his keys in and twisted?
Avi’s small step brought her over the threshold, and she had to stop again. She was inside, standing where he once stood. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—she wanted to do a little of both.

“You want a tour?”

“Sure,” she murmured low.

He spun her around so she faced the small kitchen. Her hope buoyed. Maybe Harry enjoyed spending time in the kitchen as she did.

“Your father couldn’t cook to save his life. We ate a lot of Chinese food and pizzas.”

So not like me, then.

Deflated, she left Noah behind, entering another part of Harry’s home. Her curiosity took her farther from Noah. A few dishes lay in the sink, a clear plastic bag filled with aluminum cans was by the side door, and a key rack hung on a nearby wall.

“Hey, the rest of the house is this way.”

She turned back, eager to hear and explore some more.

Creak.

Avi’s gaze lifted from the floor to Noah’s face.

“That’s that tricky floorboard.” He pushed from the doorpost, his speech robotic. “He used to tell me he’d fix it, but that bastard probably left it like that to hear if anything happened that he couldn’t see.” Noah’s laugh was stilted.

Avi tucked away everything he shared. Like her, Harry didn’t appear to be a slob, but his home wouldn’t be featured in any housekeeping magazines. A sweatshirt was draped over the back of a wooden chair, and a forgotten newspaper was turned to the crossword section. Avi picked up the pen beside the paper. She released a raggedy breath, returning the pen to its place.

“He could get lost in those puzzles of his,” Noah said.

All she could do was nod, tears forming in her eyes. With each inhale, she breathed something else she would never know about Harry. Her nose settled on a chocolate scent in the air.

“He was probably making brownies. That’s about all he used the oven for,” Noah shared. “But if he was munching on chocolate cake, then I knew enough to give him his space.”

“My mother made the best triple chocolate cake.” She didn’t know why she told Noah about that, but she was pleased by the long ago memories resurfacing.

“Yeah? That was his favorite. He had a spot he’d only go to. It was a couple of blocks from here.”

“My mother used to tell me about this one place right here in Brooklyn whose recipe came close to hers. I-I don’t remember the name right now.” Avi took a breath.

“Harry always said his favorite bakery had the second best triple chocolate cake he’d ever tasted. He never did tell me where the first was.”

They both quieted down after that.

“Tell me about my father,”
she’d asked Ellie more than once.

“Nothing to tell. It was a short fling,”
had been the only response her mother shared.

Noah touched her arm, pulling her from her thoughts. “If you got that man anything chocolate, you were guaranteed to be in his good graces for a while.” Noah words made Avi half-grin.

Just like me, or maybe I was like him.

A commonality. A bond. An answer to one of the many questions she’d had since learning of her father’s existence. But now it was too late. Can’t ask questions to a dead man. She pursed her lips, closed her eyes, and breathed deeply.

He led her down a hallway. “Open the door on your left,” Noah said from behind her.

She reached out and turned the knob. The space was small, like everywhere else.

“This was the bedroom he gave me when I moved in.” His words constricted Avi’s heart.

A black sheet covered the bed. Wrinkles were visible, reminding Avi that Harry wasn’t overly concerned with appearances.

“I don’t know why he kept the room like this. He knew once I left I wasn’t coming back.”

On a wall near the bed hung an overly large glossy poster of a half-naked woman. Avi raised an eyebrow back at Noah.

“I was a horny teenager,” he said with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Let’s go.”

Retracing their steps, Avi walked ahead of Noah and back to the living room.

“I got that for him three Christmases ago.”

Avi faced a mounted flat screen television. “Did he like it?” It looked too advanced for all the simplicity she saw in Harry’s home.

“He fought me tooth and nail about that fucking TV.” His hands landed on her waist, drawing her back against his tall frame. He dropped his chin into her hair. “That stubborn streak of yours, that’s all Harry.” He folded his hands over her stomach.

Harry’s home was the opposite of the one Avi had grown up in. Where her old family room was lined with awards and school pictures, Harry’s had few mementos on display, nor had he done any redecorating since the mid-eighties, or so it seemed.

Noah stepped away from her.

She walked to a wall and straightened a leaning painting. A vivid purple calla lily stared back at her with the stylized words below: ‘Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm, for love is as strong as death’. A smile flitted over her face when she remembered her former home had an exact replica—it was one of her mother’s favorite religious quotes. Her smile slipped.

The racket coming from under her feet didn’t give her time to dwell on what she read. Curiosity got the better of her, so she decided to investigate. But Noah’s stiff posture stopped her. He stood ramrod straight staring at a dated couch with his hands hanging limp at his sides.

“Noah?” She grazed the back of his clenched hand.

I’m here,
she wanted to say, but didn’t. The man who barked orders at her simmered, and to her right was someone mourning his friend, rescuer, and mentor.

Standing side-by-side, she leaned her head on Noah’s arm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. The explosive word was awash with sadness. It triggered her empathy. “I begged him to get rid of this piece of shit.”

“Tell me something, anything else,” she begged, opening her lids and turning back around.

“This was the couch I sat on to study for the GED he forced me to get. When I aced the test, he told me he knew I was going to kick that test’s ass.”

Avi nodded.

Noah pointed a lean finger to a La-Z-Boy chair near the worn sofa. “He was sitting in that seat when I told him I was joining the military.”

“Was he happy...” She stopped. She couldn’t find the words to go on. Tears glassed over her eyes. She lowered her head onto Noah’s upper arm for support.

Beside her, Noah cleared his throat. “Harry was so fucking proud I was doing something with my life. I swear it was like I was going to be a surgeon or something. You know, like I was actually saving lives.”

A tear fell from her eye.

“If he was like that with me, a nobody who wasn’t even his flesh and blood, I know he’d be shouting from the rooftops about you.”

The corner of Avi’s lips drifted up. “You think so?” Another tear fell.

“Yes.”

A father being proud of his daughter was what all little girls hoped to have. To think that Harry would have been pleased by Avi’s accomplishments was humbling and exciting. Her heart soared; now a bright smile graced her lips. She wiped her cheeks.

Heavy work boots clopping against the floor behind them broke their companionable silence. Avi faced the man strolling into the living room.

“What’s shakin’?”

“Hi.” Her brow scrunched while she scrutinized his movements.

Ro approached Noah and whispered in his ear before he turned back and went back the way he came.

Noah sighed. “Do something for me.”

“Hm...”

“I’m going to try this asking business you keep harping about.” Noah looked down at her, features stern but eyes pleading. “Stay right here.”

She bristled in silence. That was not a request.

“Please.” His demand was fractured by that last word, which he stuttered out like it wasn’t a part of his everyday vocabulary.

She moved away from him. His profile was blank, neither revealing anger or joy. A small pucker appeared between his brows as she gazed at his profile. It was intimidating and scary. She was unsure why she wanted to rush to tell him her answer just so the expression could disappear.

“Fine,” she muttered.

“No matter what you hear, stay here.”

“I don’t feel comfortable—”

“Too late. You already said yes.” By the time she turned, he was already on the move. “I’ll be right back.”

She was alone. Alone with her thoughts in a stranger’s home. A stranger who was her father. The father she’d been told had died without any other family and before he even got to meet Avi.

She was alone. Alone with a lifetime of lies unraveling in front of her. Her reflection shimmered in the modern and sleek TV that hung on the wall, out of place against the thirty-year-old decor. It didn’t belong there, and neither did she.

The door was right there. All she had to do was make a half-turn and she’d be away from the sorrow. Away from the emptiness. Away from a place that was so foreign yet familiar. But Noah had asked her to stay. For some reason, he needed her.

Avi squeezed her eyes shut and tried to slow her erratic breathing. When she opened her eyes, her gaze landed on the worn chair. She could almost see him there, smiling like he had just before he was—

Murdered.

She staggered back until her legs bumped the sofa and she fell upon it, then buried her face in a pillow.

Clapping her hands over her mouth and pushing her face deeper into the cushion, Avi smothered her screams. Her body trembled as she calmed and sucked in air through the pillow. She sat up and pushed her hair away from her face as she scanned the room—for what, she wasn’t sure.

A black book sat on a tray table beside her father’s ratty chair. Avi moved across the small space and reached out for the title-less book. Movie tickets, subway maps, play bills, and scraps of other dated mementos filled the pages, with her mother’s handwriting marking each event. Polaroids of a young Harry smiling and laughing alongside a younger and happier Ellie were taped to other pages. There were even short strips of negatives. Avi held them up to the light and covered her trembling lips as she saw her parents in costumes, Ellie in the kitchen, and Harry taking a nap in his La-Z-Boy.

They had a whole life together...a life that had been hidden from Avi.

Why?
That single word played on repeat in her head until a loud and hollow banging snatched her attention away from the sea of questions drowning her. Following the noise through the kitchen and to a door that was slightly ajar, she listened for the sound again before passing through the doorway and down a dark staircase.

Noah, Gavin, and Ro were hunkered down over a large metal box, apparently too engrossed in their discovery to take notice of Avi’s quiet intrusion.

“Let me take it. I think I can crack it open,” Gavin said.

“We’ve tried everything except blowtorching this bitch,” Ro said, standing up.

“We’ll take it back to my house.” Noah sighed.

She emerged from the shadowy staircase. “Try nine, one, six, eight.”