But then my brain processes what she just said. “You killed Benji.”
“I gave him what he needed. He was hooked. He was trying to stop but he didn’t have it in him. He was wasting space and perfectly good air. How do you think I got those pictures I somehow leaked to the press using a fake profile? When you hugged me and held me tight, it made it all okay.”
“Jen? Where is Jen?”
“You think I’m going to tell you. After you rejected me. Again.” There’s a sardonic light in her eyes, like she doesn’t believe I’ve been such an idiot. But I haven’t seen it, any of it. “My nannies always wondered what was wrong with me, but I could hide it from my parents. They didn’t care enough.”
“What do you mean?”
She laughs and it’s actually a laugh I’ve heard before, it’s a laugh that I thought meant she was having a good time, and maybe she is. “When my little brother died accidentally.” She air quotes “accidentally” and I stare at her, horrified. “What? He was way too loud and taking too much attention. It was painless for him. And Mom did shake him twice before I took care of him. Clearly, she didn’t do any damage, but it was enough to plant a seed of doubt in her mind. And she didn’t get punished since no one could prove anything.”
I don’t have any words. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to deal with the way my bones chill.
She continues as if she told me it was raining outside, not that she killed her own brother. “Anyways, Nanny Number Three really wondered about me. She wondered about some of my reactions. According to her, I didn’t cry enough, I didn’t show enough emotions. I learned a lot from her really on how to get better at pretending. But, she cared too much, really. She wondered so much I had to let her go.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was so easy; making sure my brother stopped stealing all the attention away from me didn’t faze me. He was the first person I killed and I didn’t feel anything. So doing it a second time with the nanny? It wasn’t hard. No remorse, none of this bullshit that always brings people down.”
I’m going to get sick. I wobble on my feet, holding myself to the counter of the kitchen. “What did you do?”
“I was thirteen. She convinced my parents I needed to see someone, and they let her take me to a therapist. They let her sit on my appointment. I didn’t care. I didn’t give a shit. I could weasel my way out of things.” She smiles, and this time it’s her signature Olivia smile—sweet and I thought genuine, but her words chill me to the bone. “He said, and I quote, that I had psychopath tendencies with a full narcissist complex. He said I needed help…” She giggles. “On our way back, we were waiting for our train in La République metro station and some pickpocket was running around. People were scrambling and I used that opportunity.”
“What?”
“I pushed her in front of the metro…and went home by myself, telling my parents that the nanny had said she quit.”
I’m going to throw up. I’m going to scream and throw up, but I need to know where Jen is. I need to know if she’s still alive.
“That was ballsy.”
“Right? They never suspected a thing. I was holding her purse for her, pretending to look for my phone, which I told her I had left in there. So, she had no ID card. I knew the cameras they had at the time didn’t record the entire platform. The pickpocket was arrested and they never could identify her. It was brilliant.”
“How about Benji?”
“Benji and I had one night together. I seduced him while he was drunk and I knew he’d been crushing on me for years, so it wasn’t too hard to play the Damsel in Distress, crying over your absences and how I didn’t feel loved anymore. Oh, he made me feel love, all right.” She doesn’t see how disgusted I am by her words, how frightened they make me. “Then, he got too hung up on me. He wanted to stop taking drugs, and I could not let that happen. He needed to go, he needed to go before he told you what happened. He was feeling so bad, so guilty.” She chuckles, shaking her head like it’s the stupidest thing she’s ever heard. “Guilt is such a useless feeling to have. Aren’t you supposed to live your life without regrets? Isn’t that better than to live with remorse? Well, I don’t regret sleeping with Benji. He wasn’t too shitty, and I have no remorse in giving him his fatal dose.”
“Please tell me you didn’t.” My throat closes up and my eyes dart to the alarm system I have in this place. The panic button Mom had me install after Benji’s death, after the fans got angry at the band splitting up, is right under the counter where Olivia sits. She doesn’t know it’s here, she can’t know it’s here. I step forward. “Please tell me you didn’t kill him.”
“Well theoretically speaking, the heroin killed him. Like the heroin is going to kill that little Jen of yours.”
“You won’t be able to get away with it.” One more step…I only need one more step to reach the counter.
She glances down and then back up. Her eyes bore into mine. “I thought you and I had something special. Benji was a distraction, I wanted you. I still want you. You were always the one I was supposed to be with. Remember Shawna?”
I nod. She still holds my eyes and I can’t move. I feel like my movements would be too revealing and she would know exactly what I’m up to. “I remember Shawna.” Shawna was a girl I had a crush on the year I met Olivia. She was bubbly and cute and had the biggest smile. I asked her on a date and she said yes. I wanted to kiss her so badly and I was about to take the plunge, when I found a note she wrote to another guy telling him how much she loved him and wanted to be with him. She denied it but it was her notebook. I dumped her and moved on. It was hard at first, but Olivia and I started seeing each other and I forgot everyone who wasn’t her.
“You wrote that letter.” The melody of my life is turning out to be much different than the one I thought I composed for it.
“Of course I did. Shawna wasn’t meant for you. I was. When you dumped me, I was devastated. For the first time in my life I wasn’t getting what I wanted. And what I wanted was you. Benji was dead. I had tried that solo career when you took that break from music, and then you dump me?”
She sighs and takes her eyes off of me. It’s now or never. I step forward. But she moves too, faster than me. “If I were you, I’d forget about pressing that alarm.”
I must look as dumbfounded as I feel, because she continues. “I’ve got a tiny camera in the bookshelves over there—I put it in when I came to the apartment to gather my stuff. Your mom was right to ask you to put an alarm. You never know what can happen, where danger lurks.”
“You don’t have to do that. We can be together.”
“You think I’m an idiot. The last plea before you save yourself and your loved one? I found a pretty good way to get rid of her, very symbolic too.” She tilts her heard. “Grand-mère Julie would appreciate the romanticism in all that.”
And then it hits me. “Please tell me you had nothing to do with her heart attack!”
“You think I go visit the old woman every single day? Of course I pushed her from her bed. It was so easy. There was no one in the hallway and she was sleeping, I simply gave her a shove. I didn’t think she would get a heart attack.” She plays with her hair like we’re discussing in which restaurant we should eat dinner, or what song we should be singing next, not her killing people. She smiles fondly at me and I swallow the insults and questions I want to throw at her. She chuckles. “You’re so gullible, you believe everything I said despite everything that’s happened between us.” She pauses. “Maybe I should bring you to Jen. Maybe you should die together there—it could be cathartic for you. Step back so you don’t inadvertently press that alarm button.” I do as she says. And then she shuffles in the purse. “Where is it? Oh, here. You have to love my mom for not locking her gun.” She pulls out a small handgun.
Her phone rings and she frowns. “Benji’s number? That doesn’t make any sense.”
I rush forward, and
shove her backwards with all my strength. “What are you doing?” The gun goes off and there’s a sharp burning pain in my shoulder, but the adrenaline runs through me and I hold her down. “Where is Jen?”
And for a split second when she simply grins my way—a grin I used to love and now have come to fear—I’m tempted to simply squeeze her neck, to stop her from grinning. But I let go of her.
“Police!” someone screams from outside and a swat team storms into my apartment. The detective in charge of Jen’s disappearance attempts to move me out of the way. “We got this,” he tells me, but his words don’t reassure me.
“She’s got Jen.” My voice is raspy but still strong and the detective nods.
“I’m not going to fucking go to jail,” Olivia screams and lunches forward for her gun, but the detective kicks it away and a policewoman grabs her. “It’s all their fault! They should have known better!” Her screams get louder and louder but the police handcuff her and carry her out—unfazed by the litany of obscenities she’s now yelling.
“Are you okay?” the detective asks me and no, no I’m not okay. My shoulder will be fine, but my entire mind can’t wrap itself around the fact that Olivia was responsible. Responsible for all of this. Responsible for so many deaths. Responsible for so many tears.
I was in love with her. I was in love with a monster. But I don’t want to think about that now. I don’t want to think about anything but saving Jen. When Olivia said something about Grand-mère Julie and my happy memories, I remembered we kept Benji’s house. We didn’t sell it because I told them I wasn’t ready to let go of my happy memories.
“Jen. She has to be in Benji’s house, it’s an old house at the outskirts of Paris. It’s almost falling apart now.”
“We’ll send someone there. And you need to go to the hospital. You’ve been shot.”
CHAPTER 54 – JEN
When loud steps can be heard through the house, I’m almost ready to fight. I manage to roll by some broken glass from a window and while I cut myself and am probably bleeding profusely, my hands and feet are now free.
I tried to find a way to kick the door open, but it was impossible.
And even if my head turns and even if I feel like my brain is surrounded by cotton and even though my heart is beating way too fast, I know it’s my last chance.
“Police!” one person screams, but it could be the same trick used before. Something to change the voice.
“I don’t believe you.” There are tears in my eyes.
But then several people talk at once and I slide to the floor. I feel myself being carried and put in an ambulance where Mom and Dad hold my hands. For a second, I see Mia with them and she’s smiling and she’s telling me that everything is going to be okay.
***
At the hospital, they stitch me back up and I have to stay on observation for an entire week. My parents almost never leave my side. Olivia is pleading guilty. When she came to visit me after I had found her at Lucas’, she put a camera in my kitchen, and the police found it in their second swipe of the apartment. It was linked to her cell phone.
She managed to lure me by using Mia’s voice. The hospital had done a short video asking for volunteers, and Mia was in that video—she used her voice sample there to create the illusion of her voice. They still had Benji’s phone in the chain of custody, so they used that to distract her while they rushed into Lucas’ apartment. I can’t even start thinking about what would have happened if they hadn’t found me, if they didn’t find this camera inside my apartment.
“Can I come in?” Lucas enters one evening, way past visiting hours. His arm in a sling but a bright smile on his face. And my heart thuds faster and faster. I wonder if it’s always going to be like this, if my body and heart are always going to react like this when I see him. And even though I know from my parents that staying together is sometimes hard, they also showed me that most of the time, it makes them stronger.
“Sure thing. How is your arm?”
“It still hurts but we’re both alive, so I can’t seem to be too mad about my stupid arm. I’ll be able to play piano again next month, they said.”
“That’s good. I miss you playing the piano.”
“I want to do things to you on the piano.” He sits by me and when our arms brush, I feel it. The connection. The anticipation. It’s there.
“Is that a promise?” I whisper and he wraps his good arm around me.
“It’s a promise.”
And his lips find mine. It’s a quick kiss. But I still smile. It’s the smile reserved only for him—it’s playful and flirty and full of memories already. Happy memories. We keep the sad ones close to us, but we talk about it with other people too. With professionals. Because Lucas has to come to terms with the fact that he loved someone who never showed and still doesn’t show any empathy. And I know I can’t be the one guiding him through all of that. Grégoire is making this into a big special in both a teen magazine and on TV. He’s still not very relaxed and he still yells a lot, but at least he’s leaving us in peace, and seeing Olivia in jail seem to have taken him down a notch. Apparently, she threatened to take legal action against him if he didn’t try to bring her back into the band. She said she could prove he knew who Benji’s dealer was. Which she couldn’t, but she’s a good bluffer.
I bite the inside of my cheek. I turn to him to kiss him again but this time, he teases me. The kiss deepens and I moan in his mouth. And it’s only when he grunts because of his arm that I pull back. This is only our beginning—we’ll have so many more kisses in the future.
“Will you bake me cookies?”
“Anytime you want.”
EPILOGUE – One month later – JEN
The wounds have healed. The physical wounds have healed and the emotional ones are doing much better both for me and Lucas. Grégoire decided to scrap the original plan for the music video for the song about Benji. Instead, they only used the band playing with pictures of Benji growing up, with his grandmother who I now go see with Lucas, with his guitar… Even though I’ve never met him, it feels like I know him. The news about Olivia has been replaced with other news. Other people. Other tragedies. Olivia apparently has a fan club of men and women writing to her. She’s become another type of celebrity, has found another group of admirers.
It sickens me but I try to not think too much about it.
I close my eyes, relishing the wooden smell of the theater where we’re performing. The chatter of the other dancers is subdued. We got a standing ovation for our performance of Giselle. “Are you ready?” Alisha asks me. She’s still wearing her costume from Giselle—the show we just put on. Igor agreed to postpone it so I could dance in it.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, hugging her.
My parents are in the audience. And Lucas’ parents are in the audience. And the rest of the band. It’s the first time we’re performing this. The first time anyone except Igor and Grégoire—who wanted to make sure we weren’t presenting something unprofessional—sees it.
The first note of the piano calls my name and I step on stage. And I only see him. Lucas at the piano playing our song. Not the one which is on its way to the top of the charts, but another. A melancholic melody, a sad melody at the beginning, but a melody full of hope and tenderness. Of passion and love.
He grins the grin I love. The one that tells me everything I need to know, the one that melts my heart. And I dance to our song “Love in B Minor”.
And after the last pirouette, after the last note, after the last word is sung, Lucas stands up, opens his arms and I rush into his embrace, while the audience stands up and claps.
“I love you,” Lucas whisper in my ears, and the tingles spreading down my spine are dancing to the same melody as the butterflies in my stomach.
“I love you too.”
And I melt into his arms. Forgetting the rest of the world.
In true Parks & Rec fashion, which
we’ve been re-watching during our rare spare time, he’s the Andy to my April.
THE END
Little note to my readers
Dear Reader,
Thank you SO MUCH for reading LOVE IN B MINOR! I know you have the choice between a lot lot loooot of books and I’m grateful you took a chance on mine.
Hope you enjoyed getting to know Jen & Lucas!
Would you like to read some bonus scenes? Leave a review on the e-vendor of your choice for this book and you will receive the following extra content:
- An epilogue from Lucas’ point of view
- And the scene of Lucas baking cookies from Jen’s point of view.
After you leave a review email the link to [email protected] and I will personally send you the bonus content.
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Other books by the author
One Dream Only
One Two Three
A Summer Like No Other
Always Second Best
Acknowledgements
I’m grateful. I’m happy. I’m lucky. Writing isn’t easy. Writing is hard. Writing can be so painful. But writing, while driving me crazy sometimes, also keeps me sane in a lot of ways. And even though I would write even if I had only a few minutes a day like I used to, I can dedicate much more time now thanks to my husband. And you have no idea how much he’s done while I was finishing up this book. Thank you for being you, Alex. I love you. And nope, I don’t think I’ll ever stop using your arms in my novels, I do love them too. (Don’t blush). The Two Ps, Plato the Dog and Peter The Cat have helped me too by forcing me to take breaks when I needed it and for being extra cuddly when I needed it too.
Love in B Minor Page 21
