Winter (A Four Seasons Novel)

by Rae, Nikita

  “The police kept things from us. Kept things from the public. Luke told us Dad was already dead when they found him, but he wasn’t! Luke spoke to him. Luke held his hand when he died. He—”

  “What did he say, Avery?”

  “—said it took him a while to die after he found him, that he was in pain. All these years—”

  “FUCK, AVERY, WHAT DID MAX SAY?!”

  I freeze mid-sentence and blink, my eyes suddenly filling with tears. Brandon curses down the phone. “Shit, I’m sorry, kiddo. Just…what did he say? Did Maxwell say anything about what he’d done? Why he’d done it? Did he say if there was anyone else involved?”

  His voice is piqued with anger. I’m so surprised by his urgency that it takes me a second to respond. To even think straight. “No. It wasn’t like that. He said…he said, ‘the trade,’ and then he said, ‘fly high, Icarus.’”

  Brandon’s breath rushes out, distorting the line. “Your father, that’s the name he used to call—”

  “I know.” And there it is. Someone else realizing my father’s last words are a message to me. It hurts like hell to have it confirmed.

  “What about ‘the trade’, kiddo? Does that mean anything to you?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure? Think about it really hard.”

  “I have thought about it! I’ve thought about nothing else for the past eight hours. Maybe you should call Luke and talk to him about it. Sounds as though he and my dad had a pretty developed relationship, from what he was telling me last night.”

  I can hear Brandon sucking his teeth; he only ever does that when he’s frustrated or worried. “You should cut Luke some slack, y’know.”

  “Why? He lied to us. He’s still keeping secrets, too. Did you know my dad mentored him when he was a kid? He must have something pretty dark in his past for him to have needed help. Who knows what kind of a person he is. If we’re honest, we barely know anything about the guy. He could be dangerous.”

  “Is that why you hopped into bed with him last night?”

  I clench my jaw. That stings. More than I care to admit. “I made a mistake, Brand. One I won’t be making again.”

  “He’s a police officer, Avery. How in hell could he be dangerous? And yes, I did know Max mentored him. Your father told me a few things about Luke that I wish he hadn’t to be perfectly honest. Makes it hard for me to look the kid in the eye when I see him, I feel so bad for him. If you gave him a chance then maybe he’d spill all the nasty, dark shit from his past and you’d see how wrong you are right now. As for lying to us, if the cops kept information from the public, then Luke did what he was supposed to. He could have lost his job if he’d leaked information they wanted to remain out of the papers. Worse, he probably could have gone to jail.”

  Brandon’s diatribe is far from expected. He’s usually so easy going and yet it’s like I have touched a raw nerve. “Sorry, I…my head is just totally screwed right now. I’m being a complete bitch.”

  “Yes. You are. Listen, just get out of your mother’s house, okay? The air in that place is probably toxic.”

  “I can’t. There’s no way I’m going back to SU yet. And if you even dream of telling me to go to Luke’s so help me I’ll scream.”

  “You can’t go to Luke’s. He’s on his way here. Said something about going up to the house to look for your father’s journal. Apparently you volunteered my services when he spoke to you about it?”

  I slap my hand on the counter, feeling the beginnings of a headache start to come on. “I said that before! Why the hell is he doing this?”

  “I dunno. Perhaps you hit the nail on the head. Maybe he was buried in a damned dark place when he was a kid, and maybe your dad was the only person who cared enough to dig him out. Maybe Luke feels what Maxwell did saved him. Maybe he’s grateful.”

  I chew on the inside of my cheek, knowing that despite his soft tone, Brandon is still reaming me out. “I’m sorry, okay. I guess I’m just a little thrown by everything that’s happened over the past twenty four hours.”

  “I know, kiddo. You’ve got your own dark places you need digging out of, too. You need to stop playing the victim, though. Get your ass back to school.”

  “Speaking of school, I need your help with something, Brand.”

  “What?”

  I bite my lip, figuring out how to ask him. “I…uh, I need to interview you about what happened.”

  Brandon breathes in deeply on the other end of the phone. “What do you mean, interview me about what happened?”

  “About what happened…Dad dying. What happened to me afterwards.”

  “Why on earth do you wanna do that?”

  “I don’t want to. I have to. It’s for my Media Law and Ethics class. My professor is apparently evil incarnate, and wants us to dredge up our most painful memories. Plus he wants us to get someone else’s version of the events.”

  “Why don’t you just pick something else, Avery? Something that doesn’t hurt so bad?”

  I press my fingertips into my forehead, asking myself the same thing. I already know the answer, though. “Because he cornered me. I told him honesty was the most important part of being a journalist so now if I lie, I’ll be a massive hypocrite.”

  “Well, okay, if you really want me to then fine, Avery. But just so you know...I think there’s someone a whole lot closer to you geographically who would probably be a more sensible choice.” Surely he can’t mean my mother? He can’t be that cruel. The sound of a car engine revs in the background. “I have a customer, kiddo. I gotta go. Just think about it, okay?”

  He hangs up, and I am left standing by the sink with a sour taste in my mouth. I grab my coat, purposefully leaving the Mom’s apartment key untouched on the counter, and I leave.

  “I WAS wondering if you were going to come back. Were you going to call?”

  I make it safely back to my building before I’m spotted. Noah sits on the low steps up to the entryway with his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. Again. My shoulders sag at the sharp look in his eyes.

  “Seems like you’re making a habit out of loitering on these steps,” I mumble, pressing the teeth of my keys into my palm.

  “It’s the only way I get to see you, love.” His casual usage of the word love makes me cringe. He lets out a tight laugh. “Don’t worry, Avery, it’s just a term of endearment.”

  “I know that.” My voice is small, despite how hard I try to sound irritated. I flick the keys over in my hand and motion towards the door. “I’m not standing out here for everyone to see. You want to come inside?”

  Noah stands stiffly, hunching his shoulders a little in his coat. “There’s no one here, Avery. Everyone’s in class.”

  “Where you should be.”

  “Where we both should be.”

  I run my tongue over my teeth. “I’m going in. You can come if you want.” I let myself into the building and hold the door for a second, waiting to see if he’s following. Noah hurries in after me and we make our way to my room in silence. Somehow, I’ve forgotten all about Leslie. She looks like a ghost when the door opens, her eyes round with surprise. “Hey guys!”

  “Sorry, Leslie. We’ll uh…we’ll go to the library,” I say.

  “God no, I was just leaving.” She leaps off her bed and shoves her feet into some Ugg boots, slamming her laptop closed as she dashes out of the room. She wasn’t just leaving; she’s wearing sweats and her hair is a tangled knot on the top of her head. She doesn’t even grab a coat. The sound of the door slamming closed rattles around the room.

  “Shit.” I sink down onto my bed and stare at my hands, not really paying attention when Noah joins me.

  “What’s wrong?” The smell of his cologne is familiar yet far too strong. His arm wraps around my shoulders and he tries to pull me in, but I remain stiffly upright.

  “Leslie probably thought I was never coming back. She’s freaking out about sharing a room with a serial killer’s daughter.”

>   Noah sighs. “You’re over analyzing this. Not that I know her, but your roommate seems like a nice enough person. She probably just wants to give us some space.”

  I let out a bitter laugh and dig my nail into the leather strap of my bag. “I doubt it.”

  “Why wouldn’t she? I mean, I thought we were gonna give us a go?”

  I turn to look at him, raising my eyebrow. “What?”

  “We’re almost a couple, Avery, or at least I thought we were. People have been known to give other people in relationships time to be alone sometimes.”

  My mouth falls open, horrified. “We’re not in a relationship. We said we’d just see where things go. And now you’ve seen where things go for me, time and time again.”

  “I’ve heard some nasty rumors, all of which were about your Da, not you. You should have talked to me yesterday instead of running like that.”

  “I couldn’t.” I pull in a deep breath and close my eyes.

  “What about now? Can you talk to me now?”

  I shake my head and fall back onto the bed. I still haven’t taken a shower since leaving Luke’s and despite how messed up everything has gotten, it feels weird that Noah is so close to me when my skin still smells of another guy. Noah swivels so that his body faces me, but thankfully he doesn’t lie down.

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  “Can’t,” I whisper.

  “Okay, Avery. Just so long as you know I’m here for you. I’m not giving up the beginnings of whatever it is we have here.”

  “You can’t be serious?” Never in a million years did I think Noah would stick around after finding out about my dad. I thought he would come and apologize for his unfortunate text message, but then make his excuses and politely leave me to my nightmare of a life.

  He’s silent for a moment and then takes hold of my hand. I open my eyes to find him staring determinedly at me. “You don’t grow up where I did, when I did, but more importantly around the people I did, Avery, without knowing a few killers. Some of my friend’s Da’s are still in Portlaoise with no hope of ever being free men again. It doesn’t matter how many times your parents fuck up in this life—their mistakes are their own. Whatever he did, love, he did. I’m only concerned about what you do. What you’re going to do next.” He squeezes my hand and slowly stands. He tugs me gently so I’ll sit up. I do, hanging my head so my hair hides my face.

  “Look at me?” His voice is soft. It makes my eyes prick. I do as he asks, flinching when he picks apart the expression on my face. “I want you to come with me.”

  “What?”

  “Come with me on my internship to Sierra Leone. It’ll give us a chance to get to know each other better. All you’d need to do is talk to Professor Lang. He’d work out the small print so you could still apply for the journalism program later on in the year. I’ve already spoken with the people in Africa and they’re more than happy to have another pair of hands helping out. It would look great on your—”

  “Noah!”

  “What? Tell me you wouldn’t love some time away from this place. You’d only need to get through the next week and then Columbia closes for Christmas. By the time we get back, everyone will have forgotten about—”

  “Noah, I slept with Luke.”

  He stops talking. For a second I can’t believe the words have escaped my lips. Can’t understand why I’ve said them out loud. Confusion flickers over Noah’s face. “Luke? The guy from the bar? But…but you said he was just your friend?” His voice is strangled, and my stomach twists at the look of hurt on his face.

  “He is. I mean, I… he was my friend. I don’t even think we’re that anymore.”

  “And you slept with him?”

  I nod, not trusting myself to make any sense if I speak. I scoot away so that my back rests against the wall, drawing my knees up under my chin. Noah crouches down by the bed and puts his head in his hands. For two whole minutes he just breathes deeply in silence. Eventually he drags his hands over his face and looks up at me.

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  The hell it doesn’t. I’m about to say as much when he holds up his hand, cutting me off. “It’s not like you cheated on me. You were distraught over your Da. You probably only did it so you could stop thinking about everything, right?” The hope in his tone is painful. I’m a hideous, hideous person.

  “Yes, you’re right, but that doesn’t mean it was okay. Even if I’m not dating you, I shouldn’t have done something so stupid.”

  Noah clenches his jaw and shakes his head. “You’re coming to Africa with me.”

  “Noah—”

  “No!” He stands quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “None of that matters, okay? Look, I’m not saying I’m happy about the idea of you sleeping with another guy. I’m not saying it doesn’t sting a little.” He gives me an infuriated look that makes me feel even worse. “But that’s it, you see…that’s exactly the reason why I can’t let you go. I’m feeling like utter shit right now, and that’s because I’m wishing it had been me. I want you, Avery. I don’t want to share you. I want you all for myself. So you have to come to Africa.”

  Part of me wants what he’s saying to be an option. I could just go to Africa with him and pretend my one night stand with Luke didn’t happen. But the reality is, despite the circumstances of how we actually ended up in bed together, I’m not ready to move on from my brief moment with Luke. I’m especially not ready to fall head first into a relationship with another guy and move to another country. A dangerous, war-torn country at that.

  “Look, I’m really sorry, Noah. I know this is really unfair to you, and I feel bad for wasting your time, but—”

  “You feel bad for wasting my time?” Noah’s eyes are alight when he snaps his gaze to mine. I should have seen how his eyes have the capacity to look wild like this, like he’s seconds from jumping off the deep end. He rakes his hands through his hair, pacing up and down the length of my bed. “Wasting my time? You really are a silly little bitch, Avery. Do you have any idea how many girls have been trying to screw me the past few weeks, huh? I’m so—” He looks like he’s physically lost the words he’s searching for. I am still reeling from him calling me a silly little bitch when he clambers back up onto my bed, crawling up over me so that his legs bracket mine, his palms pressing against the wall on either side of my head.

  “I am so fucking stupid,” he breathes. His whole body is trembling, and his face has gone deathly pale. Every ounce of him screams, Rage! I should be afraid, especially when he leans in close and jabs an index into my face, but I just can’t manage it. I stare blankly at him, calmly wondering if he is about to hit me, which seems to enrage him even further.

  “You’re coming to Africa with me, Avery.” His voice shakes as he tries to control himself. “Don’t you even think about telling me no. I’m not taking no for an answer, you hear?”

  *****

  “You’re not going to fucking Africa with that psychopath!”

  Morgan’s boots make a creaking noise as we walk through the campus buildings towards home. We went for coffee, and I’d told her about Noah’s meltdown. I just haven’t told her what provoked it. She doesn’t need to know about what happened with Luke. “Journalists die in Sierra Leone, Avery. They go out there trying to be good Samaritans and they get their heads blown off by child soldiers. You don’t want that. No one wants that. Plus, correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like Noah threatened you.”

  “Oh yeah. He was furious.”

  “But he didn’t hurt you?” Morgan glances at me out of the corner of her eye. This is the fifteenth time she’s asked me that, and it appears she still needs some convincing.

  “He didn’t touch me. I told him to leave and he left. End of story.” Yeah, end of story if you don’t count him purposefully knocking over the camera Uncle Brandon bought me at thanksgiving. Noah also punched the wall on his way out as well, but from his hiss of pain and the complete lack of damage to the paintwork, I suspec
t he did more harm to himself than anything else. I didn’t even switch the camera on to see if it was still working yet; I did the smart thing and left to find Morgan in case he came back.

  As we approach our building, Morgan tugs on my jacket sleeve. “I don’t think you should spend any more time with him. He’s…he’s not been entirely honest with you about his situation.”

  I stop in my tracks. “What d’you mean?”

  “Well…”

  When Morgan looks uncomfortable, that’s when I know things are serious. “Tell me what you mean.”

  “I only found this out the night I overdosed. Please don’t be mad at me. I was going to tell you myself, but then Noah showed up with you that day at the hospital and he made me promise. He said he was waiting for the right moment to tell you himself. He made me go outside with him so he could talk to me before you came back.”

  None of this is making any sense, but I have a really uneasy feeling. “Just spit it out, Morgan. What didn’t he tell me?”

  Morgan flinches. “He has a girlfriend.”

  Okay… I wasn’t expecting that.

  “Actually,” Morgan continues, “it’s a little more serious than that. He has…he has a wife.”

  “What? You can’t be serious? He’s, like, twenty-one years old! Who gets married at twenty-one?”

  “People who knock up their girlfriend, whose supremely Catholic family won’t allow their grandchildren to be born bastards?” Morgan offers.

  “Holy…that’s just…he has a kid?”

  Morgan nods. “Three years old. Are you upset?” A troubled look forms on her face. “Please don’t cry. I don’t know how to handle crying.”

  A loud burst of laughter rips out of me. I slap my gloved hand over my mouth, my eyes wide. “He has a kid. Ha!”

  This clearly isn’t the reaction Morgan was expecting. She eyes me cautiously as we make our way inside, and I laugh from the bottom of the stairs all the way up to my apartment on the third floor. Morgan doesn’t let up.

  “You’ve lost it. Girl, most women who discover their pseudo boyfriend is actually a married man with a small child go on the rampage. What the hell is wrong with you?”