Chapter 4

Jeffrey opened his eyes and looked up into the face he knew he

shouldn’t see. Startled, he sat up on the sofa. His eyes flickered around

the living room.

“How did I get to the couch?” he asked.

“I dragged you,” Shayne answered cheerfully. “It wasn’t easy

either,” she added with a half laugh. “You are rather heavy.” She

swallowed her smile as she assessed him. “I didn’t do much damage

moving you, did I?” she asked worried.

“No,” he admitted as he flexed his joints looking for injuries.

Suddenly an angry shadow encased his face as he jumped to his feet and

roughly grabbed her arms. His grip was tight on her wrists and his nails

dug into her pale skin.

“Who are you?” he demanded. His grip clamped down harder. The

force of his hands caused Shayne to squirm uncomfortably. He mistook

her pain as an attempt to escape and half shook her as he again yelled,

“Answer me!”

Tears of pain and fear sprang to her eyes as she searched his face.

She was sure this was Jeffrey. Ok, an older version maybe, but still him.

Yet how, if this was Jeffrey, could he not know who she was?

“Shayne,” she squeaked. Anger began to build in her chest. She

couldn’t believe he would manhandle her so needlessly, as she cleared

her throat and began again.

She spoke clearly and confidently this time. “My name is Shayne

Anderson Burdette. Now would you be so kind as to let go of me?” she

said through clenched teeth. “That,” she nodded toward his hands with

her head, “hurts!”

He loosened his grip, but did not let her go. Nor did he relax his

attack position as he pondered over her name. He seemed to recognize it,

but not really believe it. Shayne tried to dismantle the situation by

attempting to get the intruder to talk.

“I’ve told you my name, why not tell me yours?” she whispered as

she cocked her head to the side waiting for a response.

He pondered her question for a second. He was waiting for the trap

to spring. He looked into the face of the dead girl and almost spat the

words at her. “You already know my name, so what game do you think

you’re playing? And what exactly are you doing in my house?” His grip

began to tighten on her shaking wrists again.

“Your house!” she demanded. Blood shot to her colorless face as

she ripped her arms from his massive hands. “This,” she screamed at

him, “is my house!” The rage rippled through her eyes, across her face

and tightened her whole body like a spring. “This house has been in my

family for six generations, that’s over 100 years. It’s mine! Always has

been and always will be!” She finished even louder than she started.

Shayne pulled her body up to all 5’6’ and glared at him. Her eyes

spoke silently of murder and much bodily harm. Jeffrey answered her

challenge, raising to his six feet and staring back at her. She openly

challenged him now. Her jaw set with defiance, her teeth grinding in

frustration.

Some flicker of recollection crossed his face. In his whole life, only

one girl had ever stood toe to toe with him. Only one girl had never

backed down from his fury. Only one soul on this planet had ever

matched his infuriated mood. Only the dead girl had felt, and understood

the depth of his anger.

Could this be the dead girl? he thought irrationally.

“No!” he screamed in reply to a question no one else heard. His

Shayne was gone. This imposter was simply a sick joke someone was

playing on him. She was someone who knew his guilty secret and was

tormenting him. But who? he asked silently as his eyes flickered around

the room violently. Someone was about to die, he vowed. He ran through

the names of those who shared his secret.

It was a short list. No more than two names actually. Only two other

surviving people knew what haunted him. They were the only people in

this world that were as guilty as he was. His anger burned now, until he

no longer saw her at all.

Shayne knew something else was happening inside him. Something

sinister was brewing in his dark eyes. This wasn’t just about a

misunderstanding now, this resembled murder. Shayne shuddered as

Jeffrey looked completely through her.

“Jamey!” Jeffrey’s anger vibrated the walls and shook furniture. He

whirled from his frozen challenge and stomped around the house. He

yanked open doors and ruffled through closets, all the while screaming

curse words and slinging threats. The more rooms he found empty, the

more irrational he became. His voice was magnified by his ferocious

temper.

Shayne stood horrified, rooted to her spot by absolute fear. She

wasn’t sure who Jeffrey sought, but prayed he didn’t find him. She began

to count slowly in her head, counting her breaths between the man’s

wrath-filled stomps. She longed for the safety of her grandmother’s

presence, yet hoped that Jeffrey didn’t find her. She touched the locket

around her throat gingerly.

She glanced around the once grand living room, as she waited for

the man to complete his fruitless search of her home. It had changed so

much in only a few hours. The antique floral sofa had been replaced by a

worn out black sectional. Her grandmother’s high backed wing chairs

were missing. Nearest to the old brick fireplace was a large leather

recliner. The curtains and rugs had remained, as well as many of the very

expensive oil paintings her family had been collecting for years. The

most noticeable difference was the flat TV mounted to the wall in the

corner opposite the recliner. Shayne had never seen a TV with such a

large screen or made so thin. It was weird to see her home like this. It

really did look like that man had been living here for a long time. She

vaguely wondered again how long she had been unconscious and why

Rachel would have allowed these changes.

Her thoughts were interrupted with Jeffrey’s return. She knew as she

watched his approach, that his fury was once again focused on her. He

returned to towering above her, searching her eyes for answers to

questions she could not hear and could not understand.

“Who put you up to this?” he hissed through clinched teeth. His jaw

quivered.

“Who put me up to what?” she asked confused. She blinked and

tenderly reached out to him. Her hand touched his arms. “Jeffrey, please

talk to me. I don’t understand.” She was choking back sobs now.

“Please, tell me what’s going on? I looked for my grandma while you

were out, but her stuff is gone.”

His heart ached for her. He was hurting her still, hurting the girl who

wore the face of the dead girl. He longed to hold her in his arms, to kiss

her hair. He wanted to do all the things he never did.