Burning Moth

Chapter Twelve, Part Two - Where The Bodies Are

The next morning, I sat on the marble stairs in the grand foyer, lonely, watching the Dixons leave for their morning routines. Mr. Dixon was the last to go, a tall, muscular man who would have been more handsome if he wasn't so angry–six feet of smoldering fury wrapped in Armani, his dark hair smoothed from his face. He grabbed his jacket from the coat rack and looked back, one hand still on the knob.

"I spoke with Graham." His voice was heavily accented–rich and deep, like a pit full of honey. "He says you have worries about school, but he will fix this. Graham will speak with your teachers, ensure your homework is delivered. And I will arrange a meeting with the DA's office, have them drop these charges against you."

Gripping the marble rail, I slowly rose to my feet, peering down at the stern-faced man looking up at me. "Um.... thank you?"

Too gruff to accept thanks, Mr. D's dark eyes narrowed. "Don't steal anything."

The Dixon's thickset, stolid bodyguard shut the door behind him. The nameless lackey never spoke, just loafed around the house, guarding the exits so I couldn't escape. I poked my tongue at him, then bounced the rest of the way down the stairs, to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich.

I was still munching on my way back to my room, performing a double take as I passed the living room. I recognized Soren by the back of his head–close-cut, raven-colored hair. He sat on the couch, hacking some zombie brains in a round of COD.

"Want in?" he called, from over his shoulder.

I entered the room, finishing the last bite. "Shouldn't you be at school, Hotshot?"

Soren kept shooting, never taking those pretty blue eyes from the screen. The hood of his sweater was pulled up, covering his close-cut, raven hair, and part of the loop in his eyebrow. He was a lot like his brothers in the looks department, forbiddingly cute, and he was hardened like them too. But unlike his brothers, Soren was also afraid of me. He did his best to hide it though, reminding me of the boys back from high school–the ones I intimidated ruthlessly.

"You gonna nark?" he said.

"Not if you don't tell Emily I was eating on the furniture."

"Deal." Soren didn't smile, but I could tell by the twitch of his lips that he wanted to.

I took a seat on the couch, maintaining the distance, pretending not to notice his nervousness. "Sorry if my being here is weird for you. I'm really not here to disrupt your life, I just wanna help your family."

"Because you're with Nick?" Soren bit his lip, watching the screen.

"What makes you think that?"

"You're wearing his watch, I bought him that for Christmas. Plus, whenever he calls me he always asks about you. I don't think I was supposed to tell you that though."

"Mum's the word. So... what kinda stuff does Nick ask you?"

"Like, if I think you're doing okay. Or, if Graham's leaving you alone... Antonia said she didn't like you, and I told him that too--but my sister's wrong. You're not like Savannah, Savannah was a bitch. Guess that's why she's not around anymore."

"Guess so..." I inched closer, using his crush against him until his olive cheeks turned rosy. "Soren, what else do you know about Savannah?"

He finally paused his game, turning his weary gaze to mine. "She tried to get my brother to turn against our parents, but Nick couldn't do it. Savannah knew all this... bad stuff--about our dad, and his company. She was threatening to go to the board. Nick was upset, I heard him talking about it to our mom one night."