Bite, p.1
Bite, page 1
BITE
MICHELE
HOXIE
BITE
A NOVEL
SCRIBE’S GUILD
New York
Scribe’s Guild Publishing
New Rochelle, NY 10801
www.scribesguild.com
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2015 by Michele Hoxie. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First Edition, January 2015
ISBN-13: 978-0692399095
Designed by Domenico Fariello
Edited by Rebecca Axelrad and Katie Daly
Thank you everyone for all of your support.
PART
ONE
An Invitation
(Gina)
The sun is shining brightly in the sky on another beautiful day. Fall is just beginning and although there is a slight nip in the air with the temperature at sixty five degrees, I can tell summer is still trying to hang on for just a little bit longer before saying goodbye for the season. My father and I are strolling through the woods enjoying the day but he doesn’t know there is a secret agenda to wanting to be out with him. My mother and I are surprising him with a cake and a huge dinner to celebrate him landing a major account that he’s been fighting to win for the past six months. He’s an architect and this project is a huge payout for him that he wanted badly. Being in college is expensive and my parents have been doing everything they can to make sure I get a good education even though I still don’t know what my major is. I feel bad for wasting their money but a liberal arts degree is better than nothing right?
We continue to stroll through the woods while enjoying idle chitchat and the moment saddens me. Once I graduate, I’ll be forced to go out into the real world so a lot of moments like this aren’t going to happen too often. I’ll have to get a job and start building a life of my own and if I meet Mr. Right then who knows how often my parents will see me. I’ll get married and probably have kids (even though that has to be negotiated) and days like this will be less frequent. I look at my father and smile as I enjoy the moment. The future can wait. Right now it’s all about Harry and me.
We both laugh at a joke that I am surprised he actually got, until something flashes right past us. My father grabs my arm to make me stop walking as he looks around him trying to see if it was a wolf or maybe even a bear. He turns to look at me and opens his mouth to speak until something pounces on him, crashing him hard onto the ground. I start to move towards him to help him but whatever it is pushes me back and I too fall to the ground. I gather my bearings and start to make my way over to my father but what I see completely blows my mind.
“Daddy! Daddy! No,” I scream. I try to find the strength to move to help him but my body is frozen in place as I stare at my father’s body slumped on the ground. I start to see pool of blood starting to form around his head from a huge gash on his neck. Standing over him is a shadow shaped like a man. Huge in size with broad shoulders and strong arms, the man leans forward slowly towards him. He gently grabs my father’s head and tilts it back as he lowers his face towards his neck. He leans closer and…
I wake up screaming. After a few moments to compose myself, I check the clock and see that it is barely after three in the morning. My hair is plastered to my face from sweat and I pull it out of the way while I let out a frustrated groan. I really shouldn’t be shocked since I don’t sleep straight through the night anymore. I’m lucky that I slept at all. Sighing, I sit up and hold my face in my hands as I analyze my dream. Or nightmare if I want to be honest and it is the same nightmare that I’ve been having for about eight months now. Eight months since the day I saw my father murdered. Eight straight months that I wake up in cold sweats from nightmare after nightmare and do my best to calm myself down reassuring myself that it was only a dream like I’m a little girl again. Eight months that I’ve been in complete hell.
Okay I should backtrack just a minute and introduce myself.
My name is Gina Williams. Before the nightmare began, I was your basic teenager. I go to college, hang out with my friends, go on dates every now and then and anything else teenagers are supposed to do. I guess life was pretty good for me. That was until my father and I took that fateful walk on a snowy February afternoon. What was supposed to be a normal outing for us turned into a hellish nightmare. My dreams repeat that incident over and over and now it seems it’s jumping to different periods of the year. What really happened was during the winter and yet this dream took place in the fall. But it really doesn’t matter whether it’s spring or summer or the dead of winter because the outcome is always the same. I can still remember how he pushed me out of the way. How his screams were cut short as he began choking on his own blood. How I screamed until I was hoarse…
The tears start to spill over just as there is a soft knock on my door. Tiffany enters and rushes over to me when she sees that I’m crying. She jumps into the bed to comfort me. Funny, ever since his death, I’ve been crying so much that I barely feel the tears streaming down my face anymore. I grew use to the numb sensation of my sorrow overwhelming me so I just cave in and let it consume me until my body aches and I have no more tears left in my eyes. That is until the next crying session and I go through this crap all over again.
When she feels my body has grown still she moves so she can study my face. “Gina do you want to talk about it?” Tiffany asks. Usually I don’t ever want to talk about my dreams but since there was a discrepancy at the time of year this one took place I did, but I just couldn’t form the words to answer her. I just stare into her eyes while my body begins to shake and more tears steadily continue to fall. “Oh Gina, you had another dream didn’t you?” She murmurs.
“Yes,” I softly reply.
She takes me in her arms again as she says, “It’s gonna be alright sweetie. I’m here for you. Just let it all out.”
And that’s exactly what I do. Staining her nightshirt with tears, I cry like I never cried before. It feels like that first moment when I realized that my father was gone and all the pain from the past eight months comes pouring out. Tiffany is silent as the images from that fretful day keep playing over in my head until my body begins to get exhausted. After a few minutes, I finally stop because I have no more energy left. I wipe my eyes and pull myself together as Tiffany looks at me and asks, “Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yeah I think so.”
“You know that it was only a dream. Right?”
She looks at me while waiting for a response. I know she’s worried but I have no strength to get into our usual discussion of how my dreams are not real and my dad died in a horrible animal attack. We go through this routine every time I have one of these episodes and she has drilled it into my head so many times I almost start to believe it. But the key word here is almost since I know the truth. Everyone else believes it was an animal attack but I know that’s not what happened. I was there and I want to resume my argument about my father’s death but I’m too exhausted right now so I give her a weak smile and reply, “Yeah I know. Thanks for coming in and check in on me Tiffany. I appreciate it.”
“Oh please Gina it’s no big deal. That’s what friends are for.” She stares at me for a few moments, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
I briskly nod my head, “Yeah I’m fine. I’m just going to go back to sleep now but thanks. Talk to you in the morning.”
That wasn’t enough to pacify her and after a few more minutes of reassuring her that I’ll be okay and I’ll do my best to get some rest, she finally retreats back to her bedroom and I am alone again.
I’m not mad at her for wanting to dismiss the subject even though I desperately want to talk about it. But I know it would be just a waste of my time since we’ve been through this song and dance before. I’ll plead my case and she’ll tell me that it’s my overactive imagination trying to help me deal with my grief. Anyone else would have told her to fuck off, but after all the years I’ve known her I’ve learned to accept her for who she is.
Tiffany Montclair and I have been best friends, or BFF’s if you will, since the second grade and she’s more like a sister to me. Tiffany comes from a wealthy family and since her dad provides her a healthy allowance, she shops until she literally drops and every day is a fashion show for her. Even now when we’re almost adults people kiss her ass just to be seen walking with her and she basks in all the attention. I mean Tiffany loved being treated like a queen since we were in junior high school and I doubt that will ever change. We’re in college now and all the guys still fight with each other to ask her out and she plays around and makes a big show of which guy will have the privilege of taking her out. But with all this popularity there are consequences and of course the other girls are jealous because Tiffany is beautiful and well-liked by everyone. I will never forget that time she had to kick a girl’s ass because she was calling Tiffany a slut and my girl doesn’t take kindly to being called names to her face. But with me, she is different and she doesn’t have the stuck up attitude. I have never felt beneath her when I’m with Tiffany because she treats me as if I’m her equal. On the outside people think she’s a spoiled rich brat but truth be told, you’ll never meet a nicer person than her and I’m so grateful that she’s been there for me the past year.
When my dad died, things got really bad for me to the point where I didn’t know whether I was coming or going. In other words, I became a walking zombie. I finished my spring semester but other than school, I never left the house. While I was still living at home, my mother Sara grew concerned of my behavior since I stayed caged up in my bedroom and I would barely eat any food. I constantly broke out into crying spells or when she pushed too hard I would scream at her. I know Sara was only trying to help but almost every day we were at each other’s throats and things were getting so bad that we almost came close to killing each other. But instead of committing first-degree murder, Tiffany suggested I come live with her. Desperate to get out of her own house but not live on campus, her dad bought her a house of her own with two bedrooms. I didn’t want to move in at first since I felt funny because my mom was already struggling to pay for school and I didn’t have a job myself so I wouldn’t be able to contribute to her monthly bills. But Tiffany wouldn’t take no for an answer and she wouldn’t even take any cash for my half of the bills when I suggested coming up with a payment plan and I almost refused because I didn’t want to feel like I was mooching off her. But after the last fight with my mom, which got so bad that we weren’t speaking to each other, I took Tiff up on her offer and moved in just before classes started for the fall semester. She didn’t mind my sadness. If I wanted to mope, cry or throw a fit, she didn’t care. She never bothered me or told me to get over it. Tiffany left me alone. It’s nice to live with someone that gives you space.
However, just because she wasn’t nagging me like my mom was didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try to get me to communicate and just have normal conversations. After watching my father die, I completely shut down. The police had a hard time trying to get anything out of me so they based my father’s death on the so-called evidence. They felt the grass pulled up from its roots and the trail of blood which shows his body was dragged away was enough to conclude that my father was killed from an animal attack and they took the body to their lair or den or wherever wild animals live. But I know the truth. It’s the truth no one wants to believe.
A couple days before the new semester started, I finally broke down and told Tiffany about my dad’s murder. I went over every detail from what I remember and when I was done, I was almost afraid of her reaction. And I was right to be since when I looked her in the eyes, Tiffany’s face read of pure distress. Not of what I told her but horror in knowing I was completely serious. There was no punch line or me breaking out into fits of laughter while yelling out, “Sike!” I flat out admitted that my dad was killed by something we read about in books or see in the movies. Something that is the source of one of my favorite TV shows. Something I’ve been obsessed with for as long as I can remember. Something that I so want to be true, I believe a vampire killed my dad.
I remembered Tiffany’s expression of all the conversations that followed since then. Even though she never came right out and said it, I know she didn’t believe me. In fact, every time I tried to discuss it with her, she would look at me as if I grew ten heads and I even overheard her on the phone with my mom expressing how worried she was getting about me. She even suggested that maybe I should consider going to see a therapist so they can help me sort out my grief. That was the final straw. I didn’t want her to think I was going crazy so I decided to stop bringing it up to her or anyone else. The last thing I wanted was for everyone to start looking at me like I belonged in the nuthouse. So I chose to suck it up and deal with my theories on my own. No matter what anyone said, I know a vampire killed my father and someday I was going to find a way to prove it.
My spirits lifted a bit with the warm weather that lingers in mid-September and the whole campus is excited because the annual bonfire this Friday would have great weather. Every year when the fall semester starts, the Student Union club puts together a beach bonfire which, is supposed to represent the beginning of a new school year and unite us as a student body but it’s really an excuse for everyone to get drunk and dance to loud music. Last year was my first time attending and I’ll admit I did have a blast. But this year I don’t feel like being very social and all I want to do is stay in my room and hide. Of course, Tiffany wasn’t having that.
“Come on Gina you gotta go. It’s gonna be fun,” Tiffany pleads while rummaging through my closet.
I start to defend my decision but I get distracted when I turn to look at her and notice her moving things around as the hangers screech against the pole their hung on. I put my hands on my hips as I sternly ask, “What are you doing?”
She smiles as she says, “Looking for your green Calvin Klein Sweater I brought you.”
“Oh the one that you really brought for yourself,” I smirk as she finds it. I let out a giggle while I tease, “Why don’t you just keep it? You wear it more than I do.”
“Don’t change the subject missy,” she says while getting serious. “I think going to the bonfire will be a good thing for you.”
I sigh. “Why? I rather just stay at home and catch up on my reading. I have a ton of books on my Kindle that I know I’m behind on so trust me I won’t be bored. Besides, I’m really not feeling it this year and you would have way more fun without me tagging along just to mope the whole night.”
I sit on the bed while I feel tears stinging my eyes and blink hard to fight them. She comes to sit beside me and puts a comforting arm around my shoulders as she softly says, “Gina, I didn’t want to say this because I don’t want to upset you but you have no idea how hard it is for me to see you sulk around the house all day. I know you’re hurting sweet pea and please don’t take this as me pushing you but maybe going out for a few hours will do you some good. You need a change of scenery aside from these walls in your room and school and moping all day is not the answer.”
And there it is. I’m driving my poor friend so crazy that she’s begging me to go to a stupid bonfire. Once upon a time, anytime I heard about a party, I was there in a heartbeat. We would have the time of our lives and there have been many nights when my dad would scold both of us for going crazy if we accidently came over a little hung over. But everyone knew when we hit a party, things were really going to turn up a notch and I had a blast. But now I wasn’t in the mood for any of that. Part of me agreed with what Tiffany was saying because she was right. A night out of the house would do me some good. I’m surprised by now that looking at the same four walls hasn’t driven me crazy yet. A change of scenery might be nice and the one cool thing about the beach is you can always find a peaceful spot to sit and relax. Plus I miss my other friends and it would be nice to hang out with them again.
But there was the part of me that feels guilty for even considering the notion of going to a party. I mean I have no idea of how long one was to mourn the death of a loved one. How long should the mourning period be before I can start having fun again guilt free? My mom hasn’t started seeing anyone; does that mean her friends should start setting her up on dates? As these thoughts run through my head, I feel Tiffany gently patting my arm. I didn’t realize she began speaking again.
“I’m only saying Gina; I just think it would be good for you and I want you to believe that I honestly have your best intentions at heart. Besides, I can’t go to a party without my best friend by my side. You know you’re my party partner in crime so I need you there with me. Please? Pretty please Gina?”
I can’t believe she’s actually begging and she even pulls out the puppy dog eyes and I’m actually starting to feel guilty. I know she’s only trying to help so what’s the big deal. I can go for an hour and sneak out right? As soon as we get there, she’ll meet a cute guy and then she’ll be totally distracted and won’t even notice if I’m gone. No harm no foul. I sigh as I say, “Okay, okay. I’ll go.”
