by Lindsey Iler
Reagan shakes her head, choosing to keep her eyes on the floor as she wobbles to her feet. “I’m just going to go.”
“You don’t have to.” I stand, hoping to convince her to stay.
“It wasn’t a good idea, me being here.” Reagan shakes her head, gripping her ribs while scurrying for the front door.
“How’d you get here, sweet thing?” Dixon ambles forward, his voice authoritative and demanding a presence in the room.
Reagan takes notice, turning just enough to show him her face. “I walked.”
“Like hell.” He scoops his keys off the large table in the foyer and gestures for her to head out.
Before she’s hidden behind the wall, her eyes cut to me. Worry and fear so strong radiates from her.
“Thank you,” she mouths.
“What a strange girl,” Reed blurts.
“Are you living here now?” I stare at Marek the whole time I talk. He doesn’t hide his pleased grin.
“Interesting question.” She taps her finger against her chin. “I could ask you the same.”
Marek marches between us, sensing the volcano ready to erupt. “Palmer will stay here until we figure out how to bring Henry and whoever else to justice for the things they’ve done.”
“Oh, our hero.” Reed clutches dramatically at her chest and flops down on the couch like a grade-A bitch. “And then what? What’s the plan after that?”
“Maybe you could try to help instead of antagonize,” Byron barks, surprising her more than the rest of us. When she glares his way, he attempts to look confident, but under her watch, he’s crumbling. “All I’m saying is you aren’t giving us much to work with.”
He’s not lying there. Since her reappearance, the only good things she’s done, are showing her face to prove Marek didn’t kill her, and selfishly, proving to Marek that the relationship they once had, isn’t really what he wants in life.
“He has a point,” I add. “There has to be more.”
“I haven’t been ready to talk about it.” Reed sits forward, cupping her mouth with her hands, covering any emotion we may see pass through her thick and stubborn exterior.
“Now is the time to talk about it,” Marek demands.
“Can we talk about it tomorrow? Tonight, I just want to go to bed.” She waltzes over to Byron, who opens his arms to her. “Being questioned at the police station, showing up to my old life once again, it wasn’t easy. I just need some time.”
“Tomorrow morning, over breakfast, this conversation is happening.” Marek wraps his arm around my shoulders.
“Back off, okay, man?” Byron holds his hand up at Marek. “If she says she needs a minute, give her a fucking minute.”
“We’ve given her days, fucking weeks, to tell us something.”
“Whatever happened to loyalty in this group, or did that go out the window once you stuck your dick in my sister?” Reed lunges forward.
“Enough,” Marek growls. “What’s going on between Palmer and me has nothing, and I mean literally nothing, to do with you.”
“Real nice, Marek.” Reed nods, clearly hurt by us. “What you two are has everything to do with me.” She spins on her heels and races through the living room, into Byron’s bedroom.
“Should I go talk to her?” I head after her, but Byron’s arm stops my forward motion.
“Leave her be. She’ll be fine. She’s adjusting to the new normal and not handling it well,” Marek states, drawing me close to him.
“Us being together hurts her,” I observe.
“Did you think it wouldn’t?” Byron asks, sincerity for my sister’s heart and mind loud and clear. “We were a mess of a thing before she went into hiding, but we were still a thing, a unit of sorts. My guess is, she assumed it would return to the same when she came back, and low and behold, someone went and got puppy dog eyes for her baby sister. Put yourself in her shoes for a second and think about how that would make you feel.”
He leaves us with that bit of wisdom. I’m quite surprised he conjured it up in his black heart.
“Did Byron just school us on human decency?” Marek grins, glancing down at me.
“He did, and you two should be embarrassed.” Breaker bites into an apple. The crunch of his teeth colliding with the flesh crackles throughout the room. “Palmer, have you talked to Delaney? I texted her earlier, but she hasn’t replied.”
“Maybe she’s getting smart and realizing you aren’t worth her time.” Marek’s flippant words cut at the deepest part of Breaker’s psyche.
“Palmer hasn’t about you, so I doubt that’s it,” Breaker deadpans, tapping his chin. “No offense, babe.”
“None taken.” I smile at him.
“Don’t call her babe.” Marek holds out his arm, blocking Breaker from wrapping me in a hug.
“Breaker, I’m sure she’s just busy with her parents’ bullshit. If I talk to her, I’ll let her know you’re worried.”
“I’m not worried. I’m just curious what she’s up to.”
“You mean, you like her, and you want her to know?” I poke at him.
“Aww, does our big, bad Breaker have a crush?” Marek mocks him.
“Says the boy who’s in love.” Breaker flashes his middle finger in Marek’s face. “Go fuck yourself.”
“That’s what she’s for.” Marek wraps his arm around my neck. I’m tugged flush against his chest, unable to stop my own from wrapping around his waist. I tilt my lips for him to take, and he does with no complaints.
“You two are disgusting,” Breaker mutters.
Marek’s lips steal my breath with every harsh kiss he offers.
When we finally break apart, we are alone.
“We scared them away,” I joke.
“Want to do something so normal, it’s almost strange to even suggest it?” Marek asks, holding my hand as he guides me into the kitchen.
“What are you doing?” I ask, watching him grab a thing of popcorn and throw it in the microwave. He moves around the kitchen, smiling the entire time. “I could get used to this.”
“What’s that?” He peeks his head around the cabinet door.
“Seeing you smile.” At my confession, his lips spread wider. “Although, I do love the pouty scowl I’m sure you’ve had perfected far too long.”
He’s on me before another breath leaves my lungs. His hand glides up my chest onto my neck. His touch alone is capable of unspeakable things. Everything about him is meant to scare, from his deep, ocean eyes to the heady way he collects your soul slowly and painlessly. My body simply knows to give it over to him.
“You mean this pouty scowl?” He shows it off, then nips at my bottom lip until I taste the faintest amount of blood on my tongue.
“That’s the one.” The tiny wound he’s created on my body brands me as his. He replaces my tongue with his thumb, brushing away the hurt. His smile is sinister. He knows he’s gotten the best of me. “How the hell do you turn it on and off?”
“I don’t, is the simplest answer. Everyone else gets the growly, moody version of me. You, though, you get the light mixed in with it.”
“So, what’s this completely normal thing you want us to do?”
“Watch a movie.”
“Are you asking me out on a date?”
“If you consider a date, laying on my bed and eating junk food while watching a movie of your choice, of course, and then me burying my cock inside of you, then I’d say yes, I’m asking you on a date.” The pleased glisten in his eyes causes my heart to beat faster.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” I grab the bowl of popcorn and race upstairs, dropping pieces along the way.
Marek flies through the doorway a few minutes later with everything else. He sets everything down and moves about his room, setting up the movie. He offers me two options, and I choose one, not caring what we watch. When he slides into bed next to me, I slip into the crook of his body and aimlessly stare at the screen. Scenes play out, but my mind is on the boy nex
t to me.
“I can feel your eyes on me, Palmer,” Marek says, almost an hour into the movie. “In fact, if I were to guess, you have no idea what this movie is about.” He points the remote at the television and pauses the screen. “What’s on your mind?”
“I don’t care about your favorite color or food. Basic shit doesn’t mean anything to me, but what I do want to know is everything else. The things you don’t want anyone to know, is where your heart is.” I sit up straight, crossing my legs. “So, show me everything. You gave me a small piece at the party, but it’s not enough. All of you will never be enough.”
Marek sits, wondrously watching me. “You want the good, the bad, and the ugly? Then you need to hand yourself over, just as I do.”
“See this?” I hold out my wrist. He runs his thumb over the faintest scar. “It was after Reed went missing.”
“You tried to kill yourself?” He lifts my arm and kisses the raised tissue.
“I wanted something to hurt worse than the loss of my sister.” I shrug, ignoring the pain I feel in that spot when I dare to think about that day. “I learned something that day. Pain doesn’t replace pain. It only causes a steady reminder.”
“My scars are on the interior,” Marek whispers, a bit of shame in the admission. He has nothing to be ashamed of. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“I’ll go again,” I offer, grabbing his hand and pressing our closed fists against my chest. “I’ve never felt like I belong. I blame my parents for making me believe I’m somehow inferior to them, and it’s trickled down to my relationships. Delaney is all I’ve ever needed, because she lets me be myself.”
“Do you feel like you can be yourself with me?” He rests on his elbows, paying attention to what I’m saying.
“With you, you’re so flawed in the most beautiful way that it’s hard not to be proud of the dents and bruises on my soul.” I’m certain my words make Marek uncomfortable. He fidgets, biting at his bottom lip.
“Okay, my turn.” Marek cups his hands behind his head. “When I was nine, I spent an entire week without a single person saying a word to me. My parents were home. It was summer, so school was out of session, but they pretended like I wasn’t there. Even during dinner, when I spoke, it was like no one could hear me. I remember wondering if I’d died like Penelope, since I could no longer hear her voice.”
“Marek,” I rush out his name, trying to hold my tears inside from his recollection of a childhood nightmare.
His head tilts towards me, and he brushes a finger under my damp eyes. “Don’t cry for me.”
“No one ever has, have they?” I ask, hating that I already know the answer.
“No one cries over the troubled boy with a penchant for destruction.” Marek shrugs. “Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fight the darkness in my heart.”
“A handful of times, I’ve thought you may kill me.” I change the topic to get the attention off him.
“A handful of times, I wanted to kill you.” With a calmness he’s learned through turmoil and chaos, he tucks my hair behind my ear, then rests his palm against my cheek.
“Why?”
“When I see something beautiful, I want to remind it that life isn’t made for the beautiful. The world is cruel. Better to learn it from me than someone else.”
“Is that why you’ve been so afraid to let go with me, to be this?” I scoot closer to him, tangling my legs around him. He hisses in a breath when my hand rests on his chest. The beat inside of him is slow. He’s worked hard to become a hardened shell.
“When this started, I knew you’d change me. Hell, I knew you’d change all of us, from the moment you came running through the club to find us. I warned you, but relief flooded me when you came willingly.”
Overwhelmed by his sincerity, I glance away, afraid of what I’m feeling and seeing. Marek Hawthorne has brought a different resilience and euphoria to my life.
“I don’t know what my limit is with you,” I admit, ready to face it. “Where do I draw the line?”
“Why do there need to be limits with us?” He grabs a small chunk of my hair, rolling the tendrils between his fingers.
I snuggle into the crook of his shoulder, and we spend the rest of the night watching the movie. While he seems completely invested in it, I can’t slow my mind down. There’s too much going on, and too many variables that could destroy us.
Chapter Fifteen
Marek
Palmer sits across from me at the kitchen table, rubbing her foot up and down my bare leg, despite how sweaty I am after my morning run. When I’d returned, she was flipping pancakes. The table was full of food. Without speaking, our feelings crossed between us, saying everything we needed to say.
We belong. This is how it’s supposed to be.
“Did you call everyone else down?” I ask, holding a piece of watermelon between my fingers.
“No”— she grins— “I wanted a few minutes with just us.” Her mouth opens wide for me to place the sugary cube on her tongue. Her hand wraps around my wrist, holding my fingers in place. She licks the juice clean.
“Don’t play with me, Palmer,” I warn.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigns confusion, smiling at her plate of pancakes like the Cheshire Cat.
Last night, everything with us turned in the right direction. We are no longer hiding behind a wall of falseness. She knows exactly where I stand, and I know where she belongs. Before admitting my feelings, it was simple to pretend that everything between us was a game, a means to burying myself inside of her. Now, I feel a whole different level of possessiveness when it comes to Palmer.
“Come here.” I push out of my chair to stand. With my fingers on her chin to hold her in place, I kiss her. Dammit. She tastes so good.
“What was that for?” Her tongue pokes out, swiping the path I’ve left.
“I’d say it’s because he’s smitten with you.” Reed walks into the room, and the difference in Palmer is immediately noticeable. She’s nervous, moving her hands from above the table to underneath, then returning them to the top.
“Good morning,” I say, my full attention on Palmer. With a deep breath, she finally looks up. “It’s okay,” I whisper. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”
“He’s right.” Reed sits in the chair beside me. “I’m glad I caught both of you before I left.”
“Where are you going?” Palmer asks, her voice a tad frantic. Is she always going to be anxious that her sister is going to vanish again?
“Don’t worry, sis.” Reed covers Palmer’s hand with hers. “I’m going to go stay with Miss Hughes again for a bit.” She glances at me. “I think it’s best if I’m not here.”
“You don’t have to go,” I say for Palmer’s benefit. “And we still have a lot to talk about.”
Reed’s presence has complicated things, and as much as I care about her, I can’t help but wonder if her being here is healthy for any of us.
“Does Byron know?” Palmer asks.
“He does, and he’s okay with it. I think everyone needs to take a minute, so we can figure out how this is going to work. While we do that, the main focus needs to be bringing these monsters down. I just don’t think we can successfully do that with this dynamic.” She points between the three of us.
“Reed,” Palmer sighs. “I didn’t mean for . . . I didn’t know he meant . . .”
“Shh.” Reed smiles. “It’s okay. That’s sort of why I’m glad I found you two together. I need to say a few things.” A long pause impregnates the space between us. Reed finally breaks it, noticing the tears welling up in her sister’s eyes. “I never imagined returning would feel the way it does. It’s like the place I thought I belonged to is no longer here.”
“We’re still here, Reed. We’re just different,” I explain, refusing to apologize for my relationship with Palmer.
“Because of her”—she smiles at Palmer across the table— “and I’m not su
rprised. Marek reminded me of something last night, and he’s right. He deserves what you are. What we had is in the past. It ended the moment I disappeared.”
Reed rises and tucks the chair in its place. Her movements are slow, like she’s afraid of leaving the place she’s always thought of as home. She’ll always have a place here, though.
I stand. Palmer follows me.
“Things have to change eventually,” I say and shrug, unapologetically. I’m not sorry, but I am worried how it will change Reed going forward. She’s always been in control, and now that she’s returned, she sees we’ve figured things out on our own.
“You’re right. Things change.” She weaves around the table and heads towards the front door. Palmer rushes to her, placing a hand on her shoulder to swing her around.
Two sisters hold each other, feeling the world changing around them. Two sides of my life, colliding out of love and loyalty. A sign of how things will continue as we go further.
Reed cups Palmer’s face in her hands. “We’ll figure it out. Until then, you’re safe here . . . with him.”
Reed walks away, a sense of finality in her stride, even though this story has only begun. Palmer rushes into my arms.
“She’s coming back, right?” Palmer lifts her eyes to mine. “Am I the only one who feels like she’s dodging every question we ask?”
“Of course, she will,” I lie. “And no, it’s not just you.”
Being honest with myself isn’t always the easiest thing to do. Lying to Palmer is almost impossible. She’s right, though. Reed has done everything in her power not to give an inch when we deserve the whole damn mile.
If I were to guess, I’d say Reed isn’t coming back, leaving us to uncover the truth of her disappearance and return. Today in this kitchen is oddly reminiscent of the last day I saw her before her bloody dorm was found empty.
“What’s going on with you?” I ask, bending to rest my forearms on the kitchen island.
She’s been acting strange today, barely making eye contact with any of us. Her pupils are dilated to the size of Thanksgiving Day saucers, and she’s edgier than usual like she expects someone to jump out and grab her.
