Enchanted Chaos (Enchanted Chaos 1)

Great. He’s given me a nickname.

Foster rolls his eyes. “Mom said you had to do it, not me.”

“Trust me; you’re going to want to be a part of this.” His smile makes a chill trickle down my spine.

And that chill only grows colder as a small smile touches Foster’s lips.

“Fine.” Foster starts toward the stairway.

Easton follows him, motioning for me to come on. But I hesitate. When he notices my lollygagging, he sighs.

“Hurry your ass up, lightning eyes,” he says. “We’ve already wasted half the day taking care of you.”

Foul words tickle at the tip of my tongue, but I bite them back and trail after them as they walk up the stairway. When we reach the top, they lead me down a hallway lined with closed doors. The deep blue walls are decorated with family portraits, and the light from outside filters in from the occasional skylight. The farther I get into the house, the more in awe I become. It’s so big and nice and lavish and completely the opposite of what I’m used to, but not in a good way.

I want to go home.

Tear sting my eyes, but I force them back as we stop in front of a shut door at the end of the hallway.

“Welcome to your new home.” Foster grins as he twists the knob and shoves open the door.

My stomach instantly drops at the sight of an old, rickety stairway on the other side.

“Well, aren’t you going to go in?” Easton asks when I make no effort to step over the threshold.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I summon a breath and step inside, staring up at the top of the stairs. The lights are off, so I can’t see where they lead to, but cobwebs line the railing.

Are they being serious or just messing with me?

“There’s a bed up there and a dresser.” Foster slants against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Our house is already full, so this is the best my parents can do. You can either take it or leave and go live somewhere else.”

My fingernails stab into my palms as I battle not to lose control of my anger. “I already told you that I can’t leave.”

Mustering up every ounce of strength I have left, I start up the stairs, telling myself that maybe it’s not as bad as I think it’s going to be. That the stairway is just a dusty mess because who cleans stairways anyway? But then I reach the top step and realize how wrong I am.

Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have been able to see anything if, at that precise moment, lightning hadn’t zapped across the sky. With all the skylights on the roof, the entire room lights up with a bright blue glow, giving me a brief glimpse of the dusty floorboards, the unfinished walls, and the twin bed perched in the corner.

A thunder boom of a second later, a light flips on above my head.

“The light switch is down here,” Easton calls up the stairway with a snicker. “Enjoy your new home, lightning eyes.” At that, a door slams shut.

Part of me worries maybe they locked me in, but at this point, I don’t think I care. Not when I’m on the verge of crying.

A wave of sadness rolls over me as I inch farther into the room, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet. Part of me really wants to believe this isn’t my room, that Easton and Foster are screwing with me, but then I note the fresh blankets on the bed and the clean pillows. Someone has made a bit of an effort to clean this up, for my arrival, I’m sure.

Sighing, I walk over to the bed and sit down, looking around. The only other items occupying the space is a dresser, a lamp, and a wooden trunk. Curious, I get back up and try to open it, but it’s padlocked shut.

Weird …

Why put it up here in my room if it’s locked?

Scratching my head, I move back to the bed, lie down, and stare up at the windows above me. Rain sprinkles across the glass in light drizzles, lightning occasionally flashing and thunder booming. The longer I lie there, the more tears threaten to pour from my eyes, and the more the rain increases. When a sob manages to escape my throat, thunder rumbles so hard the entire house shakes. Something about the movement unleashes a pain from inside me.

I start to cry uncontrollably, the sound louder than even the hail clinking against the glass. I try to get myself to stop, knowing the streets are going to flood if I don’t, but I can’t seem to find the willpower I used to possess.

Chapter 10

Somehow during the mad chaos of hail and tears, I manage to doze off. When I wake up, the entire space is dark and quiet, the thunder and lightning gone.