When Evil Comes to Play

by B. L. Brunnemer

  “Yeah, they’re gonna take a half hour to kick in.” He groaned. “Lexie, get out of here. I’m just going to be miserable.” There was no way that I was going to leave him here like this.

  “Get on the bed and roll over,” I ordered.

  He lifted an eyelid. “Why?”

  “’Cause I’m going to give you a massage,” I told him, before going into my bathroom and getting my lotion. When I walked back in, he was cursing as he lay down further on the bed. Careful not to bump him, I climbed on the bed and moved to his side. I put some lotion in my hands and warmed it up.

  Before I could even touch him, he turned his head to look up at me. “Soft hands, Beautiful,” he warned.

  I gave him a small smile before gently touching his back. I cursed. His back was locked up tighter than ever. I started with long, soft strokes to loosen his muscles. As they began to let go, he groaned deeply. My hands began working on the smaller knots down his spine. When I got to his lower back, he grunted. I eased up on the pressure, but I wasn’t making any headway.

  “I can’t get these, Snoopy. I’m sorry.” I leaned back on my heels, trying to massage my hands to get the knots out.

  “It’s okay, my muscle relaxer is going to kick in soon,” he muttered. “Thank you, Lexie. It hurts less already.”

  I lay down beside him. “So, your doc changed your pain meds?”

  His eyes opened and met mine. “Yeah. He did a couple weeks ago. I’ve been trying not to take them.”

  “Why not?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  He sighed. “Because they’re opiates and there are more side effects than I’d like.”

  “Is there any other option?” I asked, hoping.

  He closed his eyes and sighed. “Surgery. The doc wants me to get a fusion done.”

  My stomach knotted. That didn’t sound good. “What does that mean?”

  “He wants to cut off the part of the bone that is pressing on the nerves in my spine.” His voice was weary. “And because there is more than one, I’ll probably need a spinal fusion to protect my spine.”

  I thought about it. Yeah, surgery sucked, but Ethan was in more pain lately than ever before. “Would it stop the pain?”

  He huffed. “It would. But there’s the risk of paralysis, and of course, the spinal fusion would stop me from doing the stuff I like.”

  “What do you mean?” I rolled onto my side to face him.

  His chocolate eyes met mine. “No more MMA, no more climbing - shit, I wouldn’t even be able to carry a book bag for months.”

  “How long would it be—”

  “Possibly a year,” he said. “A year before I could do anything I like.” I reached over and took his hand in mine.

  “I know you don’t want to give up the things you like, but Ethan,” I met his eyes, “you’re in pain all the time. And it’d only be a year.”

  Ethan gritted his teeth. “I’m not that desperate yet. These meds might work.” I scooted closer until my head was beside his arm. His spicy cologne filled my nose.

  “And if they don’t?” I asked softly.

  His lips rose into a sad half-grin. “Let’s see if they work first.” His body relaxed into the bed. “Finally, they’re kicking in.”

  I took my hand from his and brushed his hair out of his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His breathing became deep and even. When I was sure he was asleep, I got up and closed the bedroom door behind me.

  It didn’t take me long to get to Miles’ room upstairs. I knocked twice and then opened the door. Miles was at his computer, typing with one hand and muttering under his breath. I strode across the room and snatched his glasses off his face.

  “Lexie—”

  “Don’t Lexie me. Get your ass in bed,” I ordered.

  He squinted up at me. “I’m fine, I’m not even tired.”

  Not tired? The guy had bags under his eyes. I knew damn well he hadn’t sleep last night. “Bullshit. Bed. Now,” I stated clearly.

  He sighed, got up, and moved to the bed. He lay down on the right side of the bed. “I’m really not tired,” he tried again. I grabbed one of his other pillows and put it under his arm to support it.

  “I know you’re lying, Miles,” I told him as I walked away from him to his bookcase. I quickly ran through his fiction collection and found one that I thought would work. I walked around the bed to the other side and climbed on.

  “Can I have my glasses back? I’ll stay in bed,” he asked.

  I snorted. “Nope.” I fluffed the pillow behind me and rested my back against the headboard.

  “Lexie—”

  “Shh.” I opened the book to the first page. “Close your eyes and listen,” I told him, my voice growing raspy. Miles reached over to the nightstand and passed me a bottle of water. I smiled my thanks as I set the book down, opened the bottle and took a sip.

  “You didn’t get much sleep either,” he reminded me with a small smile on his face.

  I put the lid back on and picked up the book. “I got more than you,” I countered as I picked up the book and opened to the first page.

  “What are you reading?” he asked.

  “We are reading ‘Fahrenheit 451,’” I told him as I got comfortable and began to read. “‘It was a pleasure to burn…’”

  I read to him for almost an hour before I needed to get a drink again.

  “It’s not working…” he muttered, his voice soft.

  I smiled. “You’re almost asleep,” I whispered. He rolled onto his side, facing me as I set the book down on my stomach.

  His left arm, the arm in the cast, moved over the bed, his fingers running over my beads. “You’re wearing your beads,” he said quietly. “What happened?”

  I smiled at him. “I’ll tell you later. Now, get some sleep.” I picked up the book and continued reading.

  He eventually fell asleep, his fingers still on my wrist. I continued reading until I was sure he was out cold.

  Sleeping, Miles was a sight to see. He was relaxed. Peaceful. I carefully slid my arm out from under his fingers, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Miles.”

  I got up and closed his door behind me. I needed some sleep, but Ethan was hurting in my bed. I could sleep in Ethan’s, but that didn’t feel right. I looked back at Miles’ door. No, I’d probably wake up on top of him, hurting him even more. And Asher was out of the question. I should probably go home anyway. If anyone needed anything, Asher would hear them. I headed downstairs and out to my Blazer.

  Zeke

  “I don’t think I can be what she needs,” I finally admitted out loud.

  “Why do you say that?” Dr. Shay asked. The image of Lexie waking up next to Miles this morning had haunted me all day.

  “I can’t wake up next to her in the morning.” I stared at the floor without really seeing it.

  “Well, first, you’re a teenager,” Dr. Shay reminded me. “You shouldn’t be sleeping next to her anyway.”

  I lifted my head and met my old shrink’s gray eyes. Her kind face had wrinkles where she hadn’t before. Well, I had been eight the first time I met her. “She has nightmares and she can’t sleep without someone touching her. We got her a dog to help, but sometimes she still falls asleep on the couch when we’re watching movies. She’ll start making this… small, scared noise. If you touch her, she stops. So, sometimes the guys nap next to her to help her sleep.” I hated explaining Lexie to her. The girl was one of a kind; it was one of the things I loved about her. But that didn’t mean I wanted Dr. Shay to judge her.

  “Ah, well. That’s understandable,” she admitted as she wrote a note on her notepad. “Do you want that? To be able to wake up with someone nearby?”

  “It never mattered before. It never bothered me,” I admitted. “It does now.”

  “You’ll never know unless you try,” she offered.

  My gaze shot to her eyes. “If I try and I’m wrong, I might hurt her.” I’d rather spend my life sleeping
alone than do that. There’s a lot of shit I can take, and have, but that isn’t one of them.

  Her gaze ran over me before she looked back through the pages of her notepad. “She’s woken you up before,” she reminded me. “When you were sick. You didn’t hurt her then, why do you think you would now?”

  “I was sick,” I pointed out.

  She set the notepad down and gave me a look. I knew that look. “I’m not going to bullshit you, Zeke.”

  “If you did, I wouldn’t be here,” I told her.

  “Exactly.” She grinned. “Now, do you want to be alone the rest of your life?”

  It hadn’t been the plan, but it seemed to be the way things were going. Then Lexie made that corny joke… “No, I don’t,” I answered quietly.

  Her eyes were understanding. “You did fine with Riley.”

  “Riley was different,” I countered.

  “She didn’t mean as much as Lexie does, right?” she asked without really asking.

  I nodded. I couldn’t deny it.

  She gave me a gentle smile. “You’re scared, Zeke. You’re scared you’re going to hurt her, you’re scared to let someone that close. To be that vulnerable with someone. That’s all this is. It’s nothing more. Do you understand that?”

  I nodded.

  “What you’re really scared of is if you try and you lose her,” she stated.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, my voice gruff.

  “But you still want to be with her? You still want that relationship with her?” she asked directly.

  I nodded again.

  “Then you’re going to have to grow a pair and try,” she told me. “Or someone else is going to come along.”

  The doc was right. I was just looking for excuses to keep her away. Sure, at first putting off talking about our kiss was for her. To give her time to heal and process everything. But it was six months later, and she only had two therapy sessions left. Now, I was just making excuses for myself. I had to try with her. Something told me that I’d regret it for the rest of my life if I didn’t.

  Lexie

  I had just stepped out of the bathroom in my robe when the door downstairs opened.

  “Lexie!” Rory shouted. Shouldn’t he be at work?

  I went to the railing and looked over. Rory was in his street clothes, not his uniform. “Yeah? I just took a shower.”

  Rory looked up, his face hard. “Get dressed, we’re going to see your grandfather.”

  My eyebrows went up. “What? Really?” Was he serious? He talked about finding his dad before, but… Shit, I had plans with Isaac!

  He nodded. “Hurry up. It’s a drive.”

  I turned and went into my room. Quickly, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and slipped into a pair of cutoffs and a gray boyfriend shirt. I was downstairs in less than two minutes. Rory already had Hades on a leash.

  I got in the truck and called Isaac.

  “Hey, what time did you want to meet up?” Isaac asked.

  I cringed. “I can’t make it, I’m sorry. Rory’s taking me to see his dad—”

  “Yeah... fine.” He hung up on me. My stomach rolled as I put my phone back in my pocket.

  * * *

  We had been driving for almost two hours. The further we got from Spring Mountain, the more tense Rory became, until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “It feels like you’re taking me to stand in front of a firing squad,” I told him.

  He huffed. “Yeah, sorry, kid. My father and I don’t have the best relationship.”

  I looked out the window at the trees going by. "Is he just an asshole?”

  “He’s a grumpy asshole, yeah,” he agreed, his voice dry. Grandpa sounded fun.

  “Great,” I muttered.

  “He won’t be an asshole to you,” he said.

  “Why’s that?” I turned back to him. His mouth was a hard line, his hands gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white.

  “Because you’re his biological granddaughter,” he bit out. “He hasn’t seen Tara since she was born.”

  I gaped at him. “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “He yanked me out of Susan’s hospital room to tell me Tara wasn’t mine.” He shook his head. “That’s when I told him about my vasectomy and the sperm donor. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “What an asshole,” I stated. “Tara’s never met him?”

  “I tried around her first birthday. He hung up the phone. I stopped calling,” he admitted as we pulled into a tiny town. “If he wanted to see her, he knew where to find us.” Rory turned down another street.

  “If he’s such an asshole, why do you think he’ll help?” I asked, watching the town go by.

  “You’re Henry’s biological kid,” he reminded me. “You’re all that’s left of our mom. He’ll be as nice to you as he ever is.”

  “I don’t remember him,” I admitted.

  “That’s because your mother decided that she didn’t want him around you,” he said. “I always thought that Lisa believed if she kept our side of the family away from you, then you wouldn’t inherit your abilities.”

  “What did she say when she saw my red hair?” I asked, oddly half curious and half dreading his answer.

  “She was happy you were healthy,” he hedged.

  I turned my head to look at him. His face was carefully blank. “Rory?”

  He sighed. “There’s a reason you were an only child, Lexie, and your Dad didn’t get a say.” I turned and looked out the window. That was enough to give me an idea. My chest ached a little. What did I expect? For her to have been happy I was born? How could I still have that hope? For years she told me she wished I had never been born. Knowing what I know now, I looked back at my life with my mother and saw hints of her true feelings in my memories. She had never been the hugs and cuddles type of mom, but I always thought that was normal. I was wrong.

  “She’s not all there anymore, kid,” he reminded me.

  I nodded. “Yeah, but was she ever?”

  “At one time, yes,” he said softly. I wish I had seen it. I shoved the emotions swamping me back behind their door. Now wasn’t the time. Rory took a gravel road.

  “So, how is Susan?” I asked.

  “She’s doing good. She’s on a lecture circuit this week,” he said. “She still asks about you.” I smiled. My memories of Tara’s mom had always been good ones. I remembered her playing dolls with Tara and soccer with me. She even handled the ghost issue pretty well. A memory came from the back of my mind.

  “She saved my life once,” I said before turning to look at him. “Did you know that?”

  His brow drew down. “No. What happened?”

  I looked back out the window. “I was six. You guys had come to visit. Mom was talking with Susan in the family room. I was sitting on the floor drawing when a soul came through the wall and jumped me.” Images flooded my mind. Mom’s face as I dropped, coming to only long enough to watch Aunt Susan shout at my mom. Then waking up, hurting, in the shower with Aunt Susan holding me. “Mom just sat there. Susan got me into the shower, scrubbed me down with salt, and made sure I was okay.”

  “I remember,” he said. “Henry and I went fishing. Susan called and told us you were jumped. She never said anything about it. Though, she did say she didn’t trust your mother after that.” Yeah, that sounded like Susan. I shoved everything back behind a door again.

  A log cabin came into view through the trees. Small, and charming. There was smoke floating from the gray stone chimney. A small porch with an empty rocking chair. Rory pulled up behind a blue truck and parked. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He really didn’t want to do this.

  “I can go in alone,” I offered.

  He shook his head and opened his door. I got out, Hades jumping out after me. By the time I closed the door, Rory was beside me and the front door of the cabin was opening.

  A tall man who was closer to seventy than sixty stepped out onto the porch. His short silver hair was b
uzzed almost to his scalp. He looked so much like Rory I almost did a double take. They could have been brothers. Decades apart, but still. Rory sighed, and then led us over to the porch steps. Brown eyes narrowed at me, or more precisely, my hair, before shooting to Rory.

  “How’d you find me?” the old man bit out.

  “I’m a cop. It’s not that hard,” Rory countered. “This is Lexie. Lexie, this is your grandfather, Marvin.”

  “Hi.” I didn’t know what else to say; there was no instruction book for this.

  His eyes ran over me. He turned back to Rory. “You got your vasectomy reversed?” What was with this guy and his son’s junk?

  “No. This is Alexis; she’s Henry’s daughter,” Rory reminded him. Marvin’s gaze shot back to me. His frown faded a little. “She was wondering if any of the family had left information that has to do with their abilities. Instructions? Anything?”

  Marvin’s eyes stayed on me as he seemed to be deciding something. Eventually, he sighed. “Come in.” He turned and headed inside. I raised an eyebrow at Rory who just waved me up the stairs. I followed Marvin into the house. The great room wasn’t huge. It didn’t need to be, but it was sparse. A recliner, a small two-seater couch, a TV, a fire place, and a bookcase. A stool at a small breakfast counter and a neat kitchen. Marvin turned back to us and crossed his arms. “Now, what do you need?”

  “I want to see if… Grandma left anything about her abilities, anything she discovered,” I explained.

  His gaze went to Rory. “Stay here.” Marvin turned. “Back here, Lexie.” I followed my grandfather down the short hall and into a work room. Building blueprints hung on the wall, several lay on a drafting table. There was a hand-drawn picture of a building framed and hanging on the wall.

  “What do you do?” I asked as he went to the closet.

  “I was an architect,” he muttered. “I’m retired now.”

  “So, you can draw?” I asked carefully.

  He turned and looked down at me. “Yeah. I can draw.” He turned back to the closet and began pulling out boxes and setting them to the side. “These are Amelia’s records. She kept track of her family history, pretty much everything she thought was important.”