Bound In Blood (The Adams' Witch Series Book 1) by Erin Butler Page B

weird?”
    “Probably. If it was something weird.”
    He smiled over at me. I didn’t return it.
    I stared out the window as the forest broke and the concrete of the road soldiered through it. “There was a symbol in my dad’s journal.”
    “Uh huh,” Drake urged.
    “It caught my eye and then tonight, at the meeting, I saw that same symbol. It scared me…almost.”
    He didn’t speak at first and I watched as the old highway with vein-like cracks split the cement travelled beneath us.
    “Hey,” he said, peeling my fingers off the upholstery of the truck. “I’m sure it’s nothing. I just don’t think you’re used to all this…stuff. It’s getting to you.”
    I didn’t think that was all of it, but I also didn’t want him to think I was a baby. “Maybe.”
    “Why don’t you talk to your mom about it?”
    I looked over at him incredulously .
    He laughed. “Okay, well, talk to Rose.”
    That sounded like a much sounder plan. “Maybe I will.”
     
    ***
    Rose sat at the dining room table, a newspaper spread out before her. One of the nasty coffees steamed from a mug she cupped in her hands. “No festival duties tonight?” I asked.
    “None tonight.”
    “Great. I was hoping we could talk about my dad.”
    The steam curled up and around Rose’s face, misting her in white shadows. “What don’t you know?”
    “Everything.”
    “Hmm,” she snickered, “I always thought your mom was kind of a bitch.”
    My mouth dropped and a laugh spilled out. Soon, both of us were laughing so hard there were tears in the corners of our eyes.
    I pulled out a chair across from Aunt Rose and sat. “I don’t know why she doesn’t want me to know.”
    Rose took a sip of her coffee and set it down again. "Probably because she feels threatened. David was such a great person. It was too bad about the accident.”
    Rose peeled up the corner of the paper and started to turn the page.
    “Accident? I thought he had a heart attack.”
    Rose dropped the page, eyes glossing over. “Is that what they deemed it?” She shook her head, the black liquid from the cup rippling her reflection. “Then it was because of the accident he had a heart attack.”
    I sat back in the chair. “My mom didn’t tell me.”
    “She didn’t tell me either.” Rose stared down at the same article, eyes moving across the words.
    “What was the accident?”
    Rose spoke in a controlled monotone, relaying everything she knew, which wasn’t much.
    My mind whirred. Pictures of scenes I never saw flashed in and out of my mind like the shutter of a camera. Every detail Rose gave me, I relived it, a ghost next to my father as he lived out his last seconds.
    No. It couldn’t be like that.
    “Do you think I could see your father’s journal?” Rose asked.
    I nodded and pointed upstairs, my body robotic. “In my room.”
    Rose’s head bowed and hung over. Her shoulders shook and shining tears dripped one-by-one off the end of her nose.
    I grabbed her hand. “Is there something else?”
    “Your mom wouldn’t let me do anything. She came up here, took over, and had his body out of Adams so fast I didn’t even know what happened. I was still in shock." Her choked words melted to sobs. “I couldn’t even go to the funeral I was in such a state.”
    My heart pounded in my chest with all the fury I’d buried deep. Anger wouldn’t do either one of us any good though. “I read some of his journal entries where he talks about you." I patted the old woman’s hand. “He loved you very much.”
    Rose’s head cocked up. “You read it?”
    “Some of it. I just got up the nerve to today.”
    Rose grabbed my hands and squeezed them. “Can I read it first?”
    My aunt’s face crumpled all over again though, balled up like a paper bag, tears streaming out. One second scared or jealous or some other mixed up emotion, and another, alone. Maybe the inability to understand my feelings was a passed down trait. That made me less psychotic, didn’t