by Fawkes, Sara
Macon turned toward his truck, but stopped short when a spray of shotgun pellets peppered the expensive grille in front of him. Steam immediately rose out from around the hood. “Nope, that stays here as evidence. Two.”
He bolted down the driveway, meandering in a zigzag pattern. Cherise made a small approving sound. “He’s done this before.” Reaching behind her, she pulled another gun from her back waistband and called out, “Four!” Before I could say anything, she got off three shots.
“Don’t!” I cried as I heard Macon howl. He continued to run, albeit with an unsteady gait, back toward the main road.
Cherise held the weapon up to me. “Air gun, just shoots salt pellets. Doesn’t do too much damage at that distance, but they hurt like hell.” She rolled her eyes at my incredulous look. “Hey, if I can’t use real bullets, at least this way I still get to shoot the bastard.”
I watched Macon disappear, and a slow smile stretched across my lips. “Think you can teach me how to use that?” I asked, and Cherise laughed.
“Find me some time tomorrow, and I’ll teach you. Now, let’s go inside and have some of that gumbo I’ve got cooking.”
“Has anyone told you that you’re just a bit crazy.”
“Heh, all the time, but you’re the first today.”
* * *
It was a Tuesday when my mother showed up at the trailer.
I was helping Cherise do some weeding around her vegetable garden, so I didn’t hear the car pull up the long gravel driveway. It felt good to be helpful, seeing as how Cherise had been so good to me, but it also relieved some of the boredom. Living this far out in the country was often a lonely affair, so I appreciated her company.
Even now, nearly two weeks after I’d left the mansion, to think about Everett made my heart hurt. The worst part was that he never once tried to contact me, never texted or called. Maybe I could have held on to my anger if he’d been trying to force his way back into my life, but the silence told me so much more.
I missed him something terrible, but I couldn’t go back, not with what I knew.
“Lacey?”
The familiar voice startled me, and I turned around to see my mother standing behind me. Her hands were clasped in front of her, and I saw the way she twisted her fingers nervously, playing with the old wedding ring still on her hand. I was speechless with surprise, unable to think of what to say to her.
“Can I help you?” Cherise asked when nobody said anything.
That seemed to startle my mother out of her silence. She stepped forward, extending her hand. “I’m Gretchen St. James, Lacey’s mother.”
“Ah.”
The simple word spoke volumes, and Cherise slanted a look over to me. I still wasn’t sure how to react myself, but stood up and took my gloves off. My mother was watching me, and I could see the nervousness in her eyes. She looked unsure about my reception, clearly expecting me to lash out, and that gave me a profound sense of sadness. Whatever she’d been the last four years, I still remembered the happy woman who had raised me, even if those memories seemed further and further away.
“Can I talk to my mom alone?” I asked, looking down at Cherise, who nodded.
“Let me take these veggies inside and I’ll meet you there, sound good?” She hefted the basket of cucumbers, green beans, and tomatoes. “Holler if you need me.”
I watched her walk toward the main house, then looked back at my mother. Now that we were alone, the silence was more awkward. I had no idea what to say to her, no clue how to start a conversation. Too much had happened since the last time we’d had a heart to heart, and I wasn’t even sure why she was here.
Gretchen took a shaky breath before speaking. “Your brother’s gone to Oregon. His aunt picked him up yesterday.”
“What?” A million questions danced through my head. “When did that happen? Why did you give him up?”
“Because I…” She looked away, clearing her throat. “Because he deserves more than this. And I’m moving out of your grandmother’s trailer.”
“Did she kick you out, too?” I said, surprised at the bitterness in my words.
She gave a humorless laugh. “As a matter of fact, yes.”
I stared at her in shock as she continued. “Your grandma Jean managed to get my number, I guess from you. She told me about what happened with Davy in the store, said she could get signed witness accounts from both the clerk and the security guard, as well as Davy’s teacher at school. It didn’t matter though; my mother had already told me about it, hadn’t bothered to deny anything at all about what happened.
“Grandma Jean gave me an ultimatum: either I send him to live over there for a time, or they’d sic Child Services on me.” She closed her eyes. “I hate myself for how easy that choice was for me.”
“And Grandma didn’t like your choice,” I said in a soft voice. I saw the strain on my mother’s face—the decision hadn’t been an easy one. But a part of me hated her for waiting so long to grow a backbone.
“I didn’t tell her until after Davy was gone.” She wrapped her arms around her body as if suddenly chilled. “Your aunt Jeanine was the one who took Davy, and the looks she gave me.… We used to be close, she and I, but when your stepfather died, everything changed.”
“Father,” I corrected her. “He was my father.”
She stared at me, and then slowly nodded. “He was, he really was.”
“I needed you, Mama.” The words were ripped from me, and I saw her flinch. Tears streamed down my face as I continued. “You have no idea how much I needed your help, your support. You threw me to the wolves and watched as they chewed me to pieces every single day without raising a hand to stop it. Why?”
She wouldn’t look at me, but I could tell from her shaking shoulders that she was crying as well. “I was lost after your father died. I didn’t know what to do with myself, let alone a teenager and a baby. Your father…” She swallowed. “He pulled me out of my own private hell, gave me a good life and a good family. When he died, I felt like I’d lost everything. I came here believing there was no other option, back into the same situation I’d run from so many years before.” When she finally raised her eyes, they were red with tears. “I was selfish, couldn’t see past my own pain, and I will live with those consequences every day of my life.”
I took a deep, shuddering breath. “What happened when Diana found out?”
“We had a falling out, to put it mildly.” She snorted. “Called me a turncoat and a traitor, said I was turning against family by taking her baby away. Caused a big enough fight that the neighbors called the police, but I’d already left by then.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At your uncle Jake’s place, just for the time being. I’m moving into an apartment in Bay St. Louis the day after tomorrow. Found out today my application was approved for the place. Oh, and speaking of paperwork…” She reached around and pulled something from her back pocket, then handed it to me. “These came for you while you were away. They were what I managed to save from your grandmother, at least. She destroyed the rest of your letters.”
I took the small stack of mail from her hands, staring at the one on the top. “My GED results,” I said hoarsely, suddenly uncertain.
“You going to open it?”
I looked at her, then down at the letter. With shaky hands, I slid my finger under the flap and tore it open, pulling out the letter. Relief coursed through my body as I read the results. “I passed.”
“I’m proud of you.”
It occurred to me that, in our whole conversation, I’d never once heard her apologize to me. A part of me wanted to hate her, wanted to tell her to leave and never come back into my life. Her apathy the last four years had made my life a living hell; waiting for her to rise to my defense like a good mama bear was an exercise in futility. She’d lost every ounce of my respect, yet looking at her now, I began to understand why she’d done it. She was just too weak to stand up and fight for herself.
I wasn’t sure if I’d ever forgive her completely, but what I saw now made me only pity her. She’d suffered in the same life I had, albeit in a different way.
When nobody said anything, she cleared her throat. “Anyway, I thought I’d bring by your mail,” she said, stepping back.
“Mama?”
Gretchen St. James looked back at me, hope in her eyes. That look made it harder to say what I needed. “Was Diana the only one hurting my baby brother?”
My mother hunched in on herself, face going pale, and I had my answer. A cold spot settled in my soul as I stared down at her, watching as she tried to find the right words to justify herself. The mother of my childhood was a different person; the woman standing before me was pathetic. “Never mind,” I said harshly, but she still wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“See you around, baby.”
I didn’t answer, just watched as my mother walk away, a hunched figure moving up the gravel driveway. Only when she’d disappeared did I look down at the letter in my hands. Slowly, a wan smile moved across my lips, and I turned back toward the trailer, moving inside to sit at the small kitchen table. Setting the paper down, I laid my head on the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling, reminiscing about my life.
Before this summer, I’d been a mess, partly of my own making. Now, I had a place of my own, a kickass job doing something I loved, and a decent paycheck each week. No more having to worry about my grandmother’s smothering rules, or whether my little brother was getting the love and attention he deserved.
It was more than even that, though. The notion that family was blood had been drilled into me since moving in with my grandmother, and believing that had made my life miserable. Benjamin St. James had raised me from before I could remember, been a real father to me, and to forget that the last four years was an insult. I closed my eyes and could still hear the loud sounds of his machine shop, watching in awe as he created incredible things from a block of metal.
He was my father, and I owed it to his memory to never forget that fact.
Everett’s face flashed through my mind again, and I closed my eyes. None of this would have been possible if he hadn’t been there for me in my darkest moments. Despite everything I knew, despite all he had done in the past, I missed him fiercely. It felt as though something was missing in my heart. More than once, I’d started to text him about something wonderful, only to have reality come crashing down on me. I wanted so badly to forgive him, to call and ask to get back together, but I couldn’t let myself do it.
Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I keyed in digits I knew I’d be calling very often, and settled the phone against my ear. “Hi, Grandma Jean? Yeah, I’m doing fine. Can I … Can I please talk to Davy?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Wow.”
“Yeah.”
Clare was quiet for a moment, and then twisted in her chair to look at me. “She really … ?”
“Yup.”
We were lounging outside the trailer, staring out at the pine forest that made up most of Cherise’s property. I’d just finished telling her about Macon’s visit, and Clare couldn’t seem to grasp that my landlady had offered to deal permanently with my ex. “And you’re sure she wasn’t …”
“Joking? Didn’t sound like that.”
“Huh.” A smug smile tipped her lips. “Wish I could have seen his face.”
“Trust me, it was epic.”
Clare gave a sigh and tilted her head toward me. “Now that you’ve got your GED, any plans on how to use it?”
I shrugged. “I’d like to take a few college classes.”
“And Everett?”
I didn’t answer, just stared out at the forest. Hearing his name made my heart hurt. There had been no word from him, and I knew he was due to leave for New York soon. I should have been happy to see him go, but the thought of him not being around anymore still made me want to cry.
“I saw him a few days ago at the club, you know.”
“You did?” I said quickly, annoyed at the eagerness in my voice. “How’d he look?”
“Unhappy.” She eyed me. “You really won’t tell me why you two broke up?”
I shook my head but stayed silent. I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t told her the truth about Everett. Maybe it was because I knew what it was like to have a secret you were trying to get away from.
Then again, my secret hadn’t killed a person.
“He was having lunch with his friends at the club,” she continued, “and I swear he kept looking at that piano as if hoping you’d magically appear.”
“Clare …”
“I just don’t get it. You two were so happy, and between one moment and the next it was over. What did he do to you that made you run like that?”
“He didn’t do anything to me.” Even now, two weeks later, I still didn’t know how many details to share with Clare. She still had a good opinion of Everett, and for whatever reason I didn’t want to tell her otherwise. That she might tell others wasn’t the issue, but I’d had time to think about it. There had been so much pain in Everett’s eyes when he’d spoken about the whole situation; I couldn’t get the image out of my head. The defeat I’d seen on his face as I fled, the complete radio silence since our fight, spoke volumes. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness, but the more I thought about it, the more I desperately wanted to give it to him. It killed me to even think that way when a girl was dead because of his actions, but I wanted so badly to forgive him.
“So he hurt someone else? Come on, you’ve gotta tell me something. Should I hate him?”
The answer to that question should have been easy, but I couldn’t speak against him. “He was always good to me,” I said firmly, knowing that wasn’t really an answer to Clare’s question.
Clare made a frustrated groan. “Lacey …”
“Excuse me.”
We both turned around at the new voice to see Skye standing behind us. “Hey,” I said, surprised by her sudden appearance.
She gave a small wave, glancing between Clare and me. “Can we speak alone for a second?” she asked.
“Um, sure.” I looked at Clare, who was watching the other girl with some interest. “Would you mind getting us more tea?”
“Not at all.” Clare stood, taking the tall glasses off the small table. “Do you want some?” she asked Skye.
“No, thank you.”
I eyed the other girl as Clare moved away. She looked even thinner than before, her skin a sickly white, but was still overdressed for my current surroundings. I couldn’t imagine walking up the lumpy driveway in those heels, but she’d managed to do it quiet enough to surprise me. “I thought you’d be back in New York by now.”
“I was, but I came back for my brother. He’s leaving for home today.”
I bit my lip and looked away. Her words made my chest squeeze painfully. “So he is leaving,” I said softly.
“I…” Skye paused, then moved forward and sat in Clare’s seat. “I listened in on your conversation just now, and you’re wrong about my brother. So very, very wrong.”
I frowned. “How am I wrong?”
She looked away, her brow furrowing, then took a deep breath. “My brother didn’t spread those pictures of Emily. I did.”
Her words were like a sucker punch to the gut. “What?” I whispered, my mind reeling.
Skye swallowed. “I was young and stupid and … No, that’s not it, either. My brother was all I had in the world, or at least that’s how it felt at the time. I was jealous for his attention, but knew none of the other girls held his attention. At least, until Emily came around.
“I thought, when they first got together, he was playing some kind of game—two people couldn’t be less alike. He changed, became this alien creature who was totally into this nice girl. It only got deeper, and he spent more time with her than with me.
“I tried to sabotage their relationship, made it sound like he was just using her for laughs. It was pure spite an
d jealousy on my part, but I didn’t care. People told them I was spreading the rumors, though, and that just made my relationship with my brother worse. Then one night, I overheard a conversation he was having with his friend Bryson about pictures he took of them together. Naked pictures.”
My fingernails dug into the hard plastic of the chair as she continued, her voice suddenly strained. “All I could think about was breaking them apart and getting my brother back. I’d never do anything to hurt him, but I didn’t care about her at all. Bryse asked to see the pictures, but even though Everett said no, it planted the idea in my head. That night, I snuck into my brother’s room, took his phone, and sent those pictures to every single contact on his list.”
I recoiled and Skye looked away, shame written on her face. “By the time he woke up the next morning, the damage was done. Everyone at the school had the pictures, and in a heartbeat everything changed. We’d always been popular, mainly because we were rich, but after that it was different. Nobody believed him when he said he didn’t send the pictures, least of all Emily. She’d been in the school on a scholarship, and when the dean was shown the images he revoked it, citing indecency.
“My brother had always had a reputation as a player, but it was worse after Emily left. Boys thought he was cool and came to him for advice, girls avoided him as much as possible, and Everett, well, he pulled away from everyone and everything. He blamed himself for being careless with his phone and telling his friend about the pictures. He felt like he set the whole thing in motion. Everything happened just before finals, and even though he failed most of them, it didn’t stop him from graduating. Less than a month later, we all found out Emily had committed suicide.”
I was shaking, my stomach roiling like I was going to be sick, but I had to know everything. “Everett mentioned a lawsuit,” I whispered when Skye was silent for a while.
She nodded. “Emily’s parents tried to sue Everett for wrongful death, but New York anti-bully laws hadn’t gone into effect yet. Everett said he’d be willing to plead guilty but my parents wouldn’t have it. He was shipped off to college while my parents put the lawyers on the case, and managed to get it thrown out of court.”