Dead Statues Read Free Page A

high on Black Hill, I pulled her close. Her naked body now felt soft and warm against mine. The touch of her hair against my cheek made my phantom heart race.
    My mind told me it raced not from lust or desire, but out of fear. I wanted to push Sophie away – she wasn’t Kiera. It was Kiera I wanted to be holding naked against me. It was Kiera who I wanted to be lowering onto the bed in the glow of the warm candlelight. Sophie smiled up at me, only the whites of her eyes showing. She raised her arms, her breasts just inches from my face. They looked wrinkled and old, like two withered balloons. With my eyes closed, and searching for Kiera in my mind, I heard her voice. It was soft at first – like a whisper.
    “No!”
    Then louder.
    “No! Potter!”
    Louder still. Almost a scream.
    “No! Potter...
    “...Potter!” Kiera cried out.
    I opened my eyes. Kiera was standing by the carriage door which was now open. Wind blew her long, dark hair about her face and shoulders. With my dream breaking apart into tiny fragments, I stumbled to my feet and went to her.
    I felt sick with guilt, even though I had only been dreaming. Sophie and Eloisa hadn’t been real – they had just come back to haunt me. Just as Murphy had. All of them had come back to remind me I was keeping secrets from the woman I loved.
    “What’s wrong?” I said over the roar of the passing wind which buffeted the side of the train.
    “The picture!” Kiera cried.
    “Picture?” I frowned, the last remaining shards of my nightmare blinding me.
    “The picture of me and my dad,” she said, leaning out of the open carriage and back along the tracks. “It flew out of the door.”
    “How?” I asked, scratching my head, still feeling a little groggy.
    “I don’t know!” Kiera snapped. “It was like it was snatched out of my hand somehow.
    Taken away from me.”
    I looked at her, tears standing in the corners of her eyes. It hurt me to see the pain she felt at losing that picture of her dad. However much I hated it myself, I also felt relieved, too.
    Perhaps now, without the picture as a constant reminder, Kiera’s desire to go looking for her father might lessen. Deep inside of me, I doubted that. Had I been able to stop myself looking for Sophie? No. However much I told myself I had gone in search of Sophie to try and find out if she knew why the world had been pushed , I knew that was just a bunch of crap. That’s why I had dreamt of her. She hadn’t come back to haunt my dreams, my guilt had. That’s what was eating me up inside.
    I looked at Kiera standing by the open carriage door as she peered back along the track for any sign of that picture, which had meant so much to her. The pain in her eyes told me she was going to go in search of her father – picture or no picture. Now I’m not known for my sensitive side, but to see that look of desperation in her eyes – panic – crushed me, and I just wanted to tell her everything. I didn’t want to keep those fucking secrets that Murphy had crapped on me from such a great height. I wanted to be honest with Kiera, I owed her that. She should know that her father was still alive, that cancer hadn’t eaten him like it had before the world had been pushed . Didn’t she have a right to know?
    “She has no rights!” Murphy whispered in my ear. “She doesn’t have the right to be here – none of us do.”
    What would Kiera think of me if I told her now? What would she think of me if she knew I had met Murphy again during those twenty-four hours that I had been away from Hallowed Manor? She’d want to know why I hadn’t told her that Murphy was alive, and why I had kept it a secret from her. Worse still, Kiera would want to know why I hadn’t told her about her dad.
    I moved slowly towards her, and taking her in my arms, she rested her head against my chest. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
    “It’s not your fault,” she said, thinking I was talking about the picture.
    As I held her close