Experiment in Terror 05.5 Old Blood by Karina Halle Page B

fear. I felt the same fear myself and my heart was catching in my chest.
    “ Look at me when I’m speaking to you,” Curtis growled. He grabbed Declan’s small arm and pulled him roughly toward him. “Answer me! Did you?”
    He was right in the boys face now, the power of his words causing his hair to fly. Slowly Declan raised his eyes to his father’s. They were surprisingly hard. I had expected him to be crying but that was not the case.
    “ Yes,” the boy said in a flat voice. “I’m sorry.”
    “ Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Curtis said venomously. Declan tried to move out of his father’s grasp but Curtis tightened his grip to the point where it looked as if he’d break his own child’s bones and he pulled Declan in front of me. I gasped at the act, I couldn’t help it.
    “ This is Declan. He’s the only one who might give you trouble.”
    Curtis shoved him toward me. The boy kept his eyes to the ground.
    “ Declan, promise me you won’t be a bother to this nice woman as you are to me and your mother.”
    “ Oh, he’s just a young boy,” I began to say, but Curtis cut me off.
    “ It doesn’t matter. He knows how to behave and breaking his brother’s trophy is out of the question. Just because he’s jealous it doesn’t give him the right. You hear me Declan?”
    “ It was an accident!” Declan wailed, finally showing some emotion. I felt extraordinarily bad for the child. “I was throwing the ball and-”
    “ You know not to throw anything in this house!” Curtis’s face was now turning an ugly shade of crimson. “We have rules.”
    Declan looked back at the ground and mumbled, “Mikey wouldn’t play with me and mum said I was giving her a headache. She told me to go away, to play inside.”
    “ Enough with the excuses.” He tugged at his hair again and sighed. Then he quickly patted Declan on the head, his face contorted slightly, as if he was petting a lizard instead of his own son. “You go get your brother. I’ll deal with you later.”
    Declan nodded. Before he left, he looked up at me and in his big, dark eyes I saw a plea for help. That’s all it could have been. It was almost as if he shouted “Help me” inside my own head.
    I nodded back, dumbstruck and frightened, and Declan left the room, shoulders slumped and head down. Defeated.
    Moments later Michael, the nine-year old, came into the room. He was tall for his age and had similar good looks to his father, perhaps with less of an olive complexion than Declan had. His hair was lighter and cut short and he was wearing a neat shirt and khakis. There was no question that Michael was the favorite son. I could almost see him wearing that fact like a badge of honor.
    After the meeting, Curtis quickly showed me around the rest of the house, except for the master bedroom where Régine was apparently sleeping. I got a glimpse, however, of the tastefully appointed room that would be my own.
    “ This will be your room, if you’re to take the job. Pippa, I really hope you do. We need you here,” Curtis had said. He had calmed down and though he wasn’t quite jovial, he was more pleasant to be around and was back to trying to win me over.
    I wasn’t sold on the idea, so told him I would need a day to think about it, especially since he wanted me to start right away.
    I got in the cab and gave him a short wave. Just as the cab was pulling away I caught a hint of movement on the second floor. My eyes traveled up to the window to see small, little Declan standing there. Not waving, but watching me leave. He was too far away to see clearly, but I felt a wealth of desperation and sadness in his eyes.
    I didn’t know the full dynamic of the O’Sheas. I knew that my job would be a difficult one. But if I couldn’t be a mother to Ingrid, perhaps I could be to a little boy who desperately needed one.
    Two hours later I called Curtis from the roach motel’s crackly phone line and told him I would take the job.
    A day later, I was moved