The Red Door (The Door Series Book 1)
Copyright © 2014 by J.L. Massey
Interior Designer: Jovana Shirley, Unforeseen Editing,
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Warning: This is a work of fiction. It is by no means true. Any names, characters, places, and incidents came from this author’s twisted imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to real events, people, or places is purely coincidental. If you don’t like books with sex trafficking or abuse, this is not the book for you. If you don’t like books with ménage or male on male interaction, this is not the book for you. If you don’t like sexy men who want to take control, again-not the book for you.
2010
I looked up as the fire burned. I hated how effortless it was to kill them. They were both so sure of their standing in the community that neither thought they could be touched, and I was able to walk right in and give them both a lethal dose of GHB while they slept. I messed with the wires of an outlet outside their bedroom door and started the fire to cover my tracks. Child’s play.
I stayed back until it had burned enough to draw a crowd for me to blend into. The fire was hot even from a distance, and the heat was growing on me. The reds and oranges were entrancing. I looked around and watched everyone closely. I had seen a couple of people I knew and shook hands, asking worrisome questions, but I still stood back waiting. When I heard Aurora Hammonds’ anguished cry, I had to fight off my smile and keep from turning to her. I walked toward the burning house, staying a few steps in front of her, listening to her screaming. When I stopped a single step from the taped off area, I made sure my face was schooled and caught her as she tried to run by me. She fought and cried, and I turned her into my body, feeling her warmth and holding her tight.
It was easy, again, playing the good guy. Being a pillar in the community, no one thought I was doing anything but trying to help. But holding my prize in my arms was not easy. I was hard and wanted nothing more than to bend her over and fuck her while she watched her life burn away. To teach her that life was nothing but a speck of sand in an hourglass, and I controlled how much escaped. I leaned down and pressed my lips to her neck breathing her in, taking what I could.
“Soon, Angel, I’ll make you forget all about it.”
“Why?” She jerked up and started looking around. I glanced over and saw her friend coming and several others moving in closer. I looked again and knew the one person who was supposed to be here wasn’t. That pissed me off. His job was the one thing that was guaranteed to be easy, and it looked like it wasn’t going to be. I looked back into her red frightened eyes and squeezed her sides.
“Their time was up.”
2014
Aurora
I looked in the mirror at the girl staring back. She was too skinny and pale. Her hair was long, dull, and in desperate need of a cut.
Cut, not a trim, because it was past that need two years ago.
Cut and styled as well as some highlights.
The golden luster on the strawberry blond it used to be was long gone, leaving a darker shade with an oily residue no matter how clean. I looked down and saw the loose jeans and old t-shirt I was wearing. Jeans that were in style four years ago, but because of the weight I had lost, they barely hung on my hips. The t-shirt was one I received freshmen year when enrolled into the University of Arkansas as part of a welcoming gift for freshmen. It was a small but stretched thin from too much wear. It was white with a red razorback, though now the hog was pink and the white was more beige. I needed some new clothes. I looked back up at my face, a face that would be appealing if I smiled. I had a cute pert nose with tiny freckles across it, full lips, and purple eyes. Very much like the fairytale princess I was named after, Aurora Rose, pretty but lonely. I had been lonely for so long. I shook my head and looked away from the mirror.
“Isolation will do that.”
I walked over to the bed and saw my diploma lying there. I thought about how it was ironic that I now had my bachelor’s degree in psychology but couldn’t even hold a conversation with someone long enough to make a friend. I was now licensed to help people with their problems and encourage them to face their demons but had yet to go back and face my own. I looked back toward the mirror, at the stranger reflecting back at me, and decided it was time. Time to face my past, confront my demons, and rekindle the friendships I had so hastily discarded.
First thing on my list was to take better care of myself. I transferred a large amount of money out of savings into my checking, even though I hated that money. I felt like if I used it, I was agreeing to be paid for my parents dying. Profiting off of it. I knew I was wrong, and it was money from the life and house insurance settlements my parents had agreed to and signed off on so I could take care of myself, but it still felt wrong. Like a payoff. I had mostly avoided it; every dollar spent was a reminder that the two most important people in my life were gone. Until now, I had only accessed the account to pay for school, which cost a chunk because I took the maximum number of hours plus winter and summer classes. I had tutored students and worked in the college library, animal shelters, and soup kitchen to earn spending money while also keeping me busy.
I called a spa I had overheard some girls talking about and managed to get an appointment an hour later. Five hours later I reemerged, trading the dull stranger in the mirror for a shiny new one. My hair was up to my shoulders and had massive highlights making me look totally blond, I had been waxed in places I’m not sure the light should ever touch, and had a mani and a pedi, a facial, a massage, and gained a new attitude. I also realized that half the crap people went to a psychologist for could be solved at a spa.
I stopped by a car dealership and traded in the dependable Honda that my parents had bought me. Unfortunately, my dream car had to be special ordered, but I would have it in three days. I hit the mall over by the college and spent more than I ever have on clothes. I even bought a couple of pairs of shoes, which was the last thing I needed, because I had a shoe problem. Let’s say that what little time I left for myself over the last four years was spent on certain internet sites with fabulous shoes. They were my weakness. Well, that and underwear.
When I moved in with my Aunt Lucy, my mom’s sister, after my parents’ death, I learned to erect a wall to keep people out. Like me, she missed them, but where I worked nonstop, she pretended they never existed and removed any trace of them from her life. We avoided each other as much as possible, because we reminded the other of my mom. It helped that I had my own living space at the back of the house.
I had to accept the time I had with them was long gone, but there were others who I turned my back on who were still here. I would use the pain that seeing them again would bring to remind myself that if I died, their memories did too. I needed to go back to Rockwall, Texas and to those who helped me when I fell too far apart to help myself.
Four days later, I was in my Cadillac CTS-V Coup driving the five-hour trip from Little Rock to Rockwall. It was badass with a 556 HP V8 and could go from zero to sixty in four seconds flat thanks to a cold air intake and a Bama tuning chip. Of course I didn’t know this personally; I only knew the car was sweet, and I would look sweet in it. Even as impressive as it was, I saw it for what it truly was to me, another coat of armor to go with the hair, nails, clothes, and everything else.
Time passed quickly, and I was noticing the scenery changing, but thankfully I didn’t hit heavy traffic. I checked into a hotel then drove out to my neighborhood. I knew I needed to see what had become of where I used to live.
I parked across from where my house once stood. Someone had leveled it. Instead of the two story brick house with the dark brown shutters I grew up in, there was a small white cottage house. But I could not see it. I couldn’t see the white picket fence or the blue shutters. I could only see what happened that night.