Jordan has never quite fit in. He lives with a crippling fear of doors, he has this cringing need to bury dead things, and his friendship with Jaylene Cooper died a slow, painful death after he refused to date her.
When he’s given the advice to find someone normal to copy, it’s a no brainer for Jordan to choose Chase. Chase is popular, knows about Jordan’s quirks, and has a girlfriend. He’s also Jaylene’s brother. But there’s a big problem. The more time Jordan spends with Chase the more he realizes he doesn’t want to be like Chase, he wants to kiss him.
But his new feelings are the least of his worries. There’s a killer loose. And when the bodies start dropping, one with a similar scar as his own, Jordan becomes the prime suspect. As he begins to unravel the crime, it becomes clear that he’s not the only one with secrets. Haunted by a past he doesn’t remember, Jordan has to face what lies behind the door before he becomes the next victim.
14+ due to adult situations
Excerpt:
I carefully turned her head to the side to give Mr. Harris better access to her carotid when her hair got tangled on my index finger. And that’s when I saw it. An old scar at the base of her neck. Something that could be hidden with a t-shirt. A burn scar. The raised tissue formed three interlocking circles.
I froze.
“Jordan?” Mr. Harris said. He sounded far away. A distant planet. His eyes turned to the door to make sure it’d been left open. The Harrises knew about the closed-door thing. They made sure to leave it open. And still, I couldn’t breathe. My legs started to shake. My hands still pressed against the scar.
Run. This wasn’t the same voice I heard before in my head. This was a different voice.
A door I had sealed inside my headspace creaked opened. A cold room unfolded beyond. Cement floors, brick walls, the smell of dirt after rain and cages. Dog cages only they didn’t hold dogs. Do as they say, Basil. If you try to warn them, they’ll kill them anyway. At least this way, they have a chance. Don’t let them put you behind the door too. No one survives what’s behind the door.
I couldn’t run. I couldn’t even feel my legs. I pulled my thoughts into a single point inside my head. The world rippled like a placid lake disturbed by a skipping stone. I floated, nonexistent. No sound, no sight.
Whimpers tore through the darkness.
It took me a second to realize they were coming from me and that I was no longer in the prep room but sitting on something soft.
A cool sensation beginning at the back of my neck, spread throughout my body down to my toes. An angelic voice lifted me out of the darkness with a soothing sound about the Lord. I blinked my dry eyes, realizing they had been open. Unseeing. And then I sucked in a shuddering breath and collapsed into strong arms.
“There you are, sweetie,” Mrs. Harris said in the darkness, overpowering everything else.
“T-trash can,” I warned, right before I spewed my dinner.
Mr. Harris held me upright while Mrs. Harris held the garbage close for me to spew into it. A deluge of tears slipped down my face.
“I-I’m so-so sorry,” I squeaked.
“None needed, son,” Mr. Harris said. “I should’ve known better.”
He blamed himself for my reaction to the dead body. It hadn’t been the body that had made me freak out. It had been the scar on her neck. The three interlocking circles. Borromean rings. It meant Unity. Family. I should know. I had the exact same one branded at the back of my neck too.
