Before She's Gone, page 6
While Melinda ate, Jacob stood up and started looking around the office and Amanda joined him. She’d never visited this room before so she couldn't help but explore a little even though it was rude of her. But what could she say, curiosity won over manners.
Moving toward the wall of shelves that was filled with books, all on law, one picture especially piqued her interest.
Oh, wow...
It was a picture of Melinda, way younger than she was now, standing next to a horse, and she was laughing so hard her whole face was radiant. Amanda had never seen the proper woman looking that happy in real life. But she could certainly see Jacob in her. They had the same eyes, same smile.
"Andrew took that picture after I won another ribbon," Melinda explained casually, but it was apparent that day meant a great deal to her, for whatever reason.
And it certainly meant a lot to Andrew since it was positioned in such a way he could see it from his deck.
"It's beautiful," Amanda complimented. More than beautiful, it was breathtaking.
"Yeah, Dad always liked beautiful things," Jacob commented almost in a snide way.
"And he loved taking pictures." He held the picture for Amanda, looked at her with a strange expression then returned it on the shelf, face down.
While Amanda righted it he continued speaking.
"He shot this one as well."
It was one of Melinda as well, but on it, she was standing in front of their law firm's sign right as it was being installed.
Jacob pushed the picture with his index finger and the frame fell to the ground.
What the...?
"Jacob," Amanda chastised him, appalled at his sudden behavior.
Melinda stopped eating and looked at her son disapprovingly as well.
Why is he so angry all of a sudden? She didn't understand him one bit.
But he ignored them both.
"This one is his masterpiece as well," Jacob continued conversationally, right before he pushed that picture too and it crashed to the ground even though Amanda tried to catch it first.
"Jacob, what is wrong with you?" Melinda asked.
Amanda said. "What are you doing?"
He was acting so strangely, Amanda started freaking out.
"Nothing," he replied in a petulant way. "Just enjoying Father's work. He was such a talented photographer, don't you think?"
What is happening? Why is he doing this? Amanda's mind spiraled.
Melinda rose from the chair, but it looked more like a monarch rising from the throne. "What on earth are you mumbling about, Jacob Calum Corey," Melinda snapped, using his full name.
Looking directly at his mother, Jacob reached for another picture.
Oh no you don't!
Amanda tried to stop him, but he was stronger. He grabbed the frame and smashed it with all his might. The wood and the glass shattered on impact, and the broken pieces flew everywhere.
Jacob! Amanda was appalled.
Melinda banged against the table with both her fists. "I don't know what caused this rude behavior, but it will cease right this instant," she snapped. And she looked scary even though she never raised her voice.
"Or what?" Jacob challenged.
He was acting like a brat and Amanda felt like smacking him. Still, raining in on her own fury, she approached him. "Jacob, what’s wrong, honey?" In a soothing voice as if approaching a wild animal.
But he took a step back. "Don't touch me," he warned.
Amanda stopped in her tracks. "Jacob, please," she tried again.
"Stay away," he snapped again.
He was really, really starting to scare her. What is wrong with him?
"Amanda, do as he says," Melinda said to her.
Is she worried about me? That's crazy, Jacob would never hurt me. Amanda wanted to object.
"Oh, don't worry, Mother, I'm not going to hurt her." His eyes flashed with fury saying that. "And as for the mess, I'm sure Dad has a lot of copies. And I know just the right place to look for them."
And with that, he ran right throughout the door and both women started running after him.
What is happening here?
"Jacob," his mother called out to him but he didn't look back or slow down.
He dashed upstairs, taking two steps at a time, going to the upper levels of the mansion.
I have to stop him, Amanda thought, even though she didn't have a clue from what.
Amanda and Melinda followed him closely behind until they reached the last door on the highest level.
And by its location, Amanda could only assume it led to the attic. Oh no...
"Jacob, what are you doing?" Amanda pleaded, but he acted as if possessed.
The door was locked, but that didn't stop Jacob.
He started pounding and kicking against it, trying to break it down.
"Jacob, stop," Melinda cried out.
"Jacob, you’re scaring us," Amanda added. Please God, what is happening to my husband?
"Don't worry, Mother, everything is alright," he said in a strange voice right before continuing to ignore them, persisting with his break-in.
He stopped with all that savagery once he finally broke the door down. Flashing them a victorious smile, he resumed the climb.
"Dear Lord," Melinda mumbled going after him. "What is happening to that boy?"
That was the same thing Amanda was wondering. But not in such a polite way. Amanda was surprised and shocked to see that they ended up entering a fully equipped, professional looking photographer's studio.
All that drama, for this? Amanda was dumbfounded.
Amanda was certain that Andrew Corey was a man of many secrets, but she would never imagine something like this in a million years.
But the real question was what was his subject of choice that forced him to keep all of this locked up as a secret in the first place?
Chapter Five
Jacob
He didn't know if he should laugh or cry or rage and break everything in his sight. Because as it turned out, he was right.
The studio looked just the same as the day he last visited.
That almost made him smile. Visited was such a pleasant word. And there was nothing pleasant about him being inside this studio. So, more accurately put, at first he was bribed to come here, and later on, all pretense was gone and he would simply be dragged like a sack of potatoes, nothing more.
"What is all this?" Melinda asked, but it was apparent it was a rhetorical one.
"Jacob, whose is all this? Yours?" Amanda asked.
"No," he snapped back. "It's his, Dad's." He mocked the last words not being able to help himself.
And I finally caught the monster, came a victorious thought, but it was followed by another one.
Shame he killed himself.
Coward!
As far as he was concerned, the monster he shared some DNA with got off easy.
But getting off was the root of all the problems, in the first place.
Flashes of what happened here, among these four walls, hidden and isolated from everything else, painful memories he didn't want to deal with started to insult him.
His palms started to sweat and his pulse sped up.
No, no, no, he rebelled.
He needed to see all this. Because he was the only one who knew the truth. Moving further into the room even though his legs felt like they were filled with lead, he immediately noticed that asshole had better equipment nowadays, but the setup was the same.
Further away from him was a small stage with two big lights pointing at it.
There was no cheerful background, no theme. Just an empty stage and bare wooden walls in the back.
He had trouble swallowing, not being able to stop the flood of thoughts, emotions, and images, playing inside his head on repeat. He couldn't help but remember everything that had happened because truth be told he could never forget. It was always with him, following him like a cloud, or more accurately put, like a storm wherever he was, whatever he was doing.
Please don't, he pleaded. Not really knowing from whom he was seeking help.
Looking at that stage it all became all too real for him. It was as if he was back there again.
And he could see Him, in front of him.
The bright lights were blinding him, he was crying and shivering from cold. The sound of the flash going off sounded deafening in his small ears.
"Father, I'm cold," he pleaded.
"Be quiet," came a growling reply.
That person standing across from him, making him do all these things wasn't his father. Father was someone who loved and protected you. That was what they learned in school.
"Father, please," he still pleaded again and again. But the more he begged the more pain he would experience. He learned that lesson the hard way.
Not being able to take the memories anymore, he started turning around himself. But no matter where his eyes landed, something painful or traumatic would greet him, hurting him even further.
I can't, he panicked.
This was simply too much. He needed to get away.
"Jacob?"
A woman's voice was calling out to him, but he couldn't quite hear who it was because of the ringing inside his ears.
His head was killing him.
Make it stop, he screamed inside his head. Make it stop, he pleaded, but didn't know what exactly. The memories or physical pain.
Maybe, in this case, it was all the same. He was hurt either way.
"Come with me, boy." He could see a tall figure of his father coming to his room to drag him away.
"No!" he shouted.
"Jacob?"
In desperation, he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Jacob?" Amanda called out to him.
She sounded distant even though she was standing right in front of him. She reached out, as if to grab hold of him but he jerked away.
"Don't touch me," he demanded and pleaded at the same time.
I can't take this anymore! Please, save me! He screamed from the top of his lungs despite the fact that no sound came out of his mouth.
And then it all stopped.
He felt a bit dizzy, disoriented.
"Jacob, please talk to me." Amanda's concerned voice broke through the haze of his mind, helping him find ground.
"I'm calling the medics," his mother said in the same manner.
"I'm alright," Jacob said through clenched teeth.
He looked around himself, frowning. To say he was surprised to find himself standing there would be an understatement of the year, especially because he didn't have the faintest idea where here actually was. But that had been happening a lot lately.
"You are certainly not alright," Melinda argued. "You were grabbing your head and muttering to yourself. Not to mention the previous tantrum."
"My head is fine," he lied like a pro. "I think the dust was making me ill, but it passed."
Jacob had no idea about what his mother was talking about but he felt like he should be here, so that was what he was going to do. And his mother would simply have to deal with it.
Just keep it cool, Jacob, he reminded himself.
He didn't like the way Amanda was looking at him. Jacob wanted to curse, it felt like he spent most of their time together apologizing. Not knowing what else to do he offered her a small smile. "I'm really alright."
But it was clear she wasn't buying it.
Yeah, that makes two of us.
"Jacob..." she started.
"I'm sorry if I scared you, but I'm telling you the dust affected me. I'm fine now." He wished he could come up with a more plausible lie because there was no speck of dust in this whole place.
"It was more than dust, Jacob," Amanda called him out on his BS. Just as he knew she would.
"Can we talk about everything when we get home?" Jacob asked, hopefully.
It was clear she wanted to argue but glancing toward Melinda, she simply nodded.
"Ok, let's go," she added.
What? No!
But he didn't want to. Not yet, at least. This place piqued his interest, but not in a good way.
"Just a sec," he mumbled, scanning his surroundings more thoroughly.
Jacob couldn't help but wonder what they were doing in an attic. And whose studio is this?
As far as he could remember, this place wasn't his.
And he couldn't imagine either one of his parents indulging in such a hobby. They were more goal oriented. So world dominance would be more their speed than mere photography.
But Jacob still felt uneasy, almost sick to his stomach being here.
Stop being so melodramatic, he told himself.
Then he started to remember how his father took a picture or two of his mother a long time ago. And was always praised for it. But his father would always brush that off.
"So what are we doing here, Jacob?" his mother asked him.
And with that, Jacob could only assume he brought them here. But why? That was the question. What the hell is happening here?
He had no recollection of ever being in this place. None whatsoever.
"I...I..." Jacob started but had no idea how to finish that sentence. Because honestly, he didn't have the faintest idea.
Jacob simply couldn't remember anything. Not just about this place, or what it meant but how he’d gotten there in the first place.
Come on, give me something, he yelled at his brain.
Sifting through his mind, he knew he and Amanda drove here to visit his mother. They found her in father's office looking really distraught because of the whole police thing, but that was it.
It felt as if he’d spoken to them one minute and in the next, he was here.
It was weird as hell, to put it mildly. I'm clearly losing my mind.
"You said this was your father's studio?" Amanda reminded him.
I did? Jacob wondered. And was it? My father's studio, that is.
That was news to him.
"Jacob, you are really freaking me out, please say something," Amanda urged, and by the sound of her voice, he feared the worst.
Yeah, I'm freaking myself out too.
She endured so much crap from him, she would finally say enough was enough and leave him.
That was Jacob's biggest fear.
"I'm so sorry, my love," he replied instantly offering her his hand.
She looked at it as if she wasn't sure if she should accept it and that stung a little.
But there must be a reason she was acting in such a manner.
And he would pay good money he was that reason.
Jacob just couldn't remember what exactly he did.
But whatever it was, he’d really scared her to no end. His mother too. He cursed himself to hell and back.
Just keep calm, everything is going to be ok.
Luckily, she took his hand and he gave it a little squeeze, relieved to no end as if that small gesture was the lifeboat that would bring him back to shore and safety.
"You have no idea how sorry I am for scaring you, for scaring you both... I was just too raw for a moment, you know?" Jacob bluffed.
"That's certainly one way of putting it," Amanda mumbled in return.
Jacob wondered yet again what the hell he did that could cause both women to look at him as if he’d lost his ever loving mind.
But then he noticed his knuckles and they were swollen and bloody.
What did I do? he asked himself horrified, drawing a blank.
So maybe he was crazy. With him feeling all the emotions he couldn't explain, doing things he had no recollection off, maybe he did belong to the mental institution. You think?
But maybe if he started looking around, something would jog his memory. Or so he hoped.
Let's see what we have here...
Jacob started looking about. To his left, he could see a whole dark chamber set-up. So his father really wasn't kidding around with all these things. But there were no pictures hanging around to dry so he didn't linger. And to his right, there was a small podium with professional looking mono-lights with reflective umbrellas carefully placed around them.
"What are you looking for?" Amanda inquired.
Jacob simply shrugged. Something. Anything.
"Don't know," he replied absentmindedly, not being able to take his eyes of that stage.
Jacob made a step toward it, but his heart started pounding like crazy, and a cold sweat broke against his skin. What is wrong with you? He started having a panic attack even though he had no clue why. There was nothing remotely scary or dangerous up there.
Still, not wanting to freak Amanda out again, Jacob refocused on something else.
Just keep calm, be cool.
There was a whole wall with built-in shelves that were stacked with cameras. Some of them looked really old, like vintage and the other that were newer still looked old, if that made sense. They were all types of cameras that required rolls of film. Which was logical since there was a dark room and everything.
No digital cameras for his father as it were. What a shocker. But he was always so traditional, it kind of made sense.
Sure, his iPhone had been an extension of his right hand, but he still preferred doing certain things in the old fashioned way. Like meeting clients face to face in cigar clubs, writing closing arguments on paper instead of typing on a computer, and things like that.
"So he really took his hobby seriously," Amanda commented, looking at the same equipment he did.
"And his photos are beautiful," she added.
Jacob jerked as if she slapped him.
What was that? he asked himself.
"I had no idea," his mother added. She still stood at the same place, refusing to touch anything.
"He never shared this with you?" Amanda inquired, taking one of the older cameras to play with.
His mom shook her head. "No, and I never visited this part of the house," she explained matter-of-factly.
Jacob could only shake his head because that was so typical of his mother.
While they softly chatted, Jacob remained silent because honestly, he didn't know what to say.
Even though he never visited this place in his whole life, he somehow led his wife and mother here. Plus he was getting a strange vibe from it and a mild panic attack.
