Whispering Minds by A.T. O'Connor Page B

his farmhouse, his bent form pushed open the front door. “What are you doing out on a day like this?”
    I let my bangs fall across my eye to hide the bruising and prayed he wouldn’t notice the swelling. “I need to use your phone, if possible.”
    “Where’s yer folks?”
    “My dad’s mom passed away.”
    “Heard that, but the funeral’s done and gone already.”
    At the sharp edge in his voice, I considered my answer carefully. “They had some things to take care of.”
    “Today?” His tone sounded incredulous.
    I had no answer but a shrug. “So, can I use your phone? Ours seems to be out at the moment with the weather and all.”
    “Shouldn’t be. Mine works just fine.”
    “We have the dish. Our television isn’t working now either.” He didn’t need to know nonpayment had shut off our services.
    “Satellite. I knew your father shouldn’ta put that in when he did. Who needs that much television? Lazy is what it is. Probably the reason your driveway’s not cleared out yet.”
    “Mr. Parson, remember? My dad’s not home. That’s why I need to use your phone.”
    He pointed to a wall unit and stood over me while I dialed. I ran the bunchy cord between my fingers, winding the coils around my pinky and prayed voice mail wouldn’t pick up. Travis did.
    I turned my back on Mr. Parson and spoke into the receiver. “Travis, hey.”
    “I don’t want to talk to you, Gemini.”
    Travis never called me by real name. My cheeks heated up at the thought of Old Man Parson getting an earful of gossip over this call. “I need you.”
    I sucked in a breath, waited for the disconnect. When it didn’t come, I spoke again. “Can you come to my house? I’ll explain everything then.”
    “I’m kind of busy right now.”
    “I understand that, and I would never ask if I didn’t absolutely need you.”
    Travis let out a long sigh.
    “I wouldn’t have called otherwise.”
    Silence. The kind that’s painful to more than your ears. Not wanting to give the neighbor more ammunition, I blurted out a half-assed apology. “I’m sorry.”
    “Fine. I’ll be there at three.” The line went dead.
    I turned back to Mr. Parson and the smug look on his face. “Thanks for letting me use your phone.”
    “Havin’ your boyfriend out, huh?”
    “My study partner.” Even as I said it, I knew he could read the lie in my words. I didn’t care. It didn’t matter what he thought of me because I didn’t plan on coming back. I thanked him again and showed myself to the door.
    I almost made it outside before he spoke. “You tell your daddy to stop on over when he gets home. I’d like to talk to him about that fire in your yard the other day.”
    I put on a fake smile and stepped outside, calling over my shoulder as I went. “Will do, Mr. Parson. It might not be for a couple days. Maybe even into next week. It depends on what they need to take care of.”
    You’re in trouble.
    Big time.
    I couldn’t escape Mr. Parson’s snoopiness fast enough. He’d obviously noticed the fire and my parent’s recent absence. While I was certainly old enough to take care of myself during my parents’ hit-and-miss schedules, his sudden curiosity and pressing need to talk to my dad confirmed my fears. The old man was anything but harmless.
    And the last thing I could afford right now was him drawing attention to my crumbling family.

Chapter 16
     
    Angel wandered the attic, sifting through the debris of her parents’ lives.
    Her mother was an artist. Scratch that. Ex artist. The remains of her passion lay scattered across the wooden floor. Paint tubes long dried up. Brushes once lovingly handled, now frayed and broken. Angel remembered a time when her bedroom wall had danced with cartoon characters. A testament to her mother’s abilities before the Fall.
    That’s what she called it. The Fall.
    Her pastor had explained perfectly about good and evil, angels and demons, God and Temptation.
    In the fight for their souls, her parents