The Bone House Read Free

Sometimes his fury overwhelmed him. He didn't
blame Tresa; she was just a girl in love. But the others - the teachers, the
parents, the police, the school board - they had ignored his denials and picked
apart his life, leaving him with his career destroyed. He wanted revenge for
the injustice. He wanted to hurt someone. He wasn't a violent man, but
sometimes he wondered what he would do if he met the principal of the school in
a deserted county park, where no one would see them and where no one would ever
know what he'd done.
        Mark
stopped on the beach. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply until his anger
washed away. The waves came and went, and he felt the sand eroding beneath his
feet. The peace of the water calmed him, which was why he was here. He smelled
the briny, fishy aroma of the Gulf. The mild, damp air was like a tonic
compared to the cold weather back home, where it was March and temperatures
were still in the thirties.
        He
could have stayed here forever, but nothing lasted. He knew it was time to go
back to the hotel. Hilary was alone, and she'd wonder where he was if she
awakened. He'd slipped silently out of bed when he couldn't sleep. He'd
shrugged on swimming trunks and a yellow tank top and walked out their patio
door, which led directly down the flat stretch of sand past the palm trees to
the water. The sea had helped clear his head, but the relief was temporary, as
it always was. Things never changed. They only got worse.
        Mark
heard the voice again. 'We Didn't Start the Fire.'
        The
teenage girl in the bikini wandered closer to him. She had a wine bottle in her
hand, and he watched her drink from it like Gatorade. Watching her swaying
motions on the beach, he realized she was drunk. She was only thirty yards away
now, her skin bronzed and damp. She tugged at the bottom of her swimsuit and
adjusted it without self- consciousness. Her wet hair had fallen across her
face, and when she pushed it away, their eyes met. Hers were wild and
unfocused.
        He
knew who she was.
        'Oh,
son of a bitch,' he murmured under his breath.
        It
was Glory Fischer. Tresa's sister.
        Instinctively,
Mark looked up and down the beach. The two of them were alone. It was almost
three in the morning. He eyed the tower of the hotel, and in the handful of
rooms where he saw lights, he didn't see the silhouette of anyone looking out.
Even in the moonlight, it was dark enough that no one could see them here. He
hated the idea that his first thought was self-protection, but he felt guilty
and exposed being this close to a young girl. Especially this girl.
        She
took a long time to realize who he was, but then she offered him a teasing
smile as she recognized him. 'You,' she said.
        'Hello,
Glory. Are you OK?'
        The
girl ignored the question and hummed to herself. 'Did you follow me here?' she
asked.
        'Follow
you? No.'
        'I
bet you followed me. That's OK.'
        'Where'd
you get the wine?' he asked.
        'You
want some?' She looked at the bottle and realized it was empty. She overturned
it, and a few red drops sprinkled on to the sand. 'Shit. Sorry.'
        'You
shouldn't be out here,' he said. 'Let me take you back to the hotel.'
        Glory
wagged a finger at him, and her torso swayed unsteadily. 'Tresa wouldn't like
that, would she? Seeing you and me together. Troy wouldn't like it either. He
gets so jealous. If you want to do it with me, we should do it right here. Do
you want to do it with me?'
        Mark's
body tightened with anxiety. He knew he shouldn't be here. He had to get away
before this got worse, before anyone saw them together.
        'Come
on, let's go,' he told Glory. 'I don't want you on the beach alone. It's not
safe. You've been drinking.'
        'What's
the problem? You'll keep me safe, won't you? You're big and strong. No one's
going to mess with you.'
        He
reached for her arm, but she spun out of