Read Online The Witches of Snyder Farms (The Wicked Garden Series) by Lenora Henson - Free Book Online
Authors: Lenora Henson
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Michelle smiled, waved, and fairly skipped across the parking lot towards the salon.
Gr etchel looked at her daughter. “Michelle’s only provoking you to get to me, Ame. Just leave her alone.”
“I could, if you would fight your own battles ,” Ame retorted as she climbed back into her car. “I don’t know why you didn’t teach that bitch a lesson a long time ago.”
Gretch el was quiet. She knew why. She knew exactly why.
∞
The ride home was alarming.
Ame had sat in her new car and stewed while Teddy finished styling Gretchel’s hair. By the time Gretchel eased into the passenger seat, Ame was furious—and it showed in her driving. The combination of horsepower, adrenaline, and winding country roads left Gretchel fearing for both their lives, but she didn’t feel like she could say anything to her daughter that would help.
But, after Ame had whipped into the driveway and squealed to a stop, Gretchel felt that she would be ignoring her duty as a mother if she didn’t say something . “You aren’t supposed to drive this kind of machine when you’re pissed,” she yelled.
“Are you kidding me?” her daughter replied. “ That’s the best time to drive a sports car. Get out, you crazy woman. I’m going to pick up Holly.”
Then Ame’s anger seemed to dissipate all at once. “Listen, Mom, this is my first free weekend in, like, forever. Peyton’s finally coming to Irvine and I really, really want to have a good time. Please don’t fuck it up for me.”
“Watch your mouth , young lady,” Gretchel flared. Kill the psychopomp , she heard in her head.
Ame’s face hardened again as she roared the engine. Gretchel got out and slammed the door. The car sped off, spewing gravel behind it.
“I’m going to kill him for buying that car,” Gretchel mumbled as she walked toward the cottage. “Yes, I will kill him, but first I’ll make him beg for mercy.”
Kill the psychopomp , she heard again.
Eli wasn’t back yet. Gretchel threw her purse and the bags filled with his gifts on the floor.
She tried very hard to pretend that the Woman in Wool had not returned.
She stripped naked and put on the black lingerie that Eli had given her. She could tell from the quality—and the labels—that Eli hadn’t found it anywhere in Irvine. She tried to enjoy the luxury. She tried to look forward to Eli’s return. But the sense that she was just another man’s whore crept along her bare skin.
Well , will ya look at that. Skinny Malinky is at it again.
Like a rabbit.
Ah be missin’ those days of tart’n about.
Aye , the group of voices echoed wistfully.
Ah wisht ah’d had a get -up to make ma bosoms spill out like that.
Ha! What fer ? So ye could sook mah dokey?
The voices dissolved into cackling.
These voices were hardly more welcome than that of the Woman in Wool, but at least they weren’t telling her to kill anyone.
Gretchel considered herself in the full-length mirror. The black lace and silk chiffon didn’t quite conceal all her scars. She moved the fabric back and forth, trying to cover her imperfections. What exactly does Eli see in me?
“That’s a fine que stion,” the Woman in Wool said quietly. This voice wasn’t coming from inside her head. It was coming from right behind her.
Gretchel wasn’t looking at herself in the mirror anymore. The Woman in Wool stared back at her. Gretchel grabbed the closest heavy object—the new Graham Duncan book—and pummeled the mirror until it shattered. Gasping for breath, she stopped, dropped the book, and leaned her arms against the wall. “Damn you straight to hell!”
“Either you really hated that book, or you didn’t like what you saw in the mirror.” Gretchel turned to see Eli enter the room. He dropped his tattered leather messenger bag on the floor. “I can’t believe that it’s the latter, so I have to assume that it’s the former.” His words were light, but he sounded concerned. Gretchel looked at him,
Gr etchel looked at her daughter. “Michelle’s only provoking you to get to me, Ame. Just leave her alone.”
“I could, if you would fight your own battles ,” Ame retorted as she climbed back into her car. “I don’t know why you didn’t teach that bitch a lesson a long time ago.”
Gretch el was quiet. She knew why. She knew exactly why.
∞
The ride home was alarming.
Ame had sat in her new car and stewed while Teddy finished styling Gretchel’s hair. By the time Gretchel eased into the passenger seat, Ame was furious—and it showed in her driving. The combination of horsepower, adrenaline, and winding country roads left Gretchel fearing for both their lives, but she didn’t feel like she could say anything to her daughter that would help.
But, after Ame had whipped into the driveway and squealed to a stop, Gretchel felt that she would be ignoring her duty as a mother if she didn’t say something . “You aren’t supposed to drive this kind of machine when you’re pissed,” she yelled.
“Are you kidding me?” her daughter replied. “ That’s the best time to drive a sports car. Get out, you crazy woman. I’m going to pick up Holly.”
Then Ame’s anger seemed to dissipate all at once. “Listen, Mom, this is my first free weekend in, like, forever. Peyton’s finally coming to Irvine and I really, really want to have a good time. Please don’t fuck it up for me.”
“Watch your mouth , young lady,” Gretchel flared. Kill the psychopomp , she heard in her head.
Ame’s face hardened again as she roared the engine. Gretchel got out and slammed the door. The car sped off, spewing gravel behind it.
“I’m going to kill him for buying that car,” Gretchel mumbled as she walked toward the cottage. “Yes, I will kill him, but first I’ll make him beg for mercy.”
Kill the psychopomp , she heard again.
Eli wasn’t back yet. Gretchel threw her purse and the bags filled with his gifts on the floor.
She tried very hard to pretend that the Woman in Wool had not returned.
She stripped naked and put on the black lingerie that Eli had given her. She could tell from the quality—and the labels—that Eli hadn’t found it anywhere in Irvine. She tried to enjoy the luxury. She tried to look forward to Eli’s return. But the sense that she was just another man’s whore crept along her bare skin.
Well , will ya look at that. Skinny Malinky is at it again.
Like a rabbit.
Ah be missin’ those days of tart’n about.
Aye , the group of voices echoed wistfully.
Ah wisht ah’d had a get -up to make ma bosoms spill out like that.
Ha! What fer ? So ye could sook mah dokey?
The voices dissolved into cackling.
These voices were hardly more welcome than that of the Woman in Wool, but at least they weren’t telling her to kill anyone.
Gretchel considered herself in the full-length mirror. The black lace and silk chiffon didn’t quite conceal all her scars. She moved the fabric back and forth, trying to cover her imperfections. What exactly does Eli see in me?
“That’s a fine que stion,” the Woman in Wool said quietly. This voice wasn’t coming from inside her head. It was coming from right behind her.
Gretchel wasn’t looking at herself in the mirror anymore. The Woman in Wool stared back at her. Gretchel grabbed the closest heavy object—the new Graham Duncan book—and pummeled the mirror until it shattered. Gasping for breath, she stopped, dropped the book, and leaned her arms against the wall. “Damn you straight to hell!”
“Either you really hated that book, or you didn’t like what you saw in the mirror.” Gretchel turned to see Eli enter the room. He dropped his tattered leather messenger bag on the floor. “I can’t believe that it’s the latter, so I have to assume that it’s the former.” His words were light, but he sounded concerned. Gretchel looked at him,
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