by Kristie Cook
Maybe I was too broken to know real love.
We returned to reading Jacey’s journal and finally finished it. Only to find out both she and Micah died.
“I can’t believe that’s the end!” I growled as I stared at the page as though more words would magically start filling it.
Brock shook his head. “That’s really fucked up. It has to be fiction. I mean, the stuff that happened to them? How they died? No way is that a real diary. It was probably some writer trying to get Mom’s attention after all.”
I tossed the journal on the table, leaned back, and crossed my arms over my chest. “I doubt she’ll like it. She prefers HEAs.”
His eyes cut sideways at me since he was sitting next to me on my couch. “That’s horny ever after, right?”
I laughed and pushed my shoulder against his. “Happily ever after.”
“Right. Until they get married, and then he’s horny ever after.”
I rolled my eyes. “What are we going to do about the journal? I can’t bring myself to let your mom read it.”
“Me neither. She’ll cry for days, and then complain about her writing mojo being ruined for weeks. Maybe we should just toss it.”
I considered that for a moment and already knew I wouldn’t be able to simply throw the book away. It was a book, no matter how weird or sad the story was. A leather-bound book, soft and smooth from age, with a beautiful image embossed on both the front and back. Not exactly something disposable.
“Maybe we should put it on Craigslist or something as a found item,” I suggested. “Someone could have dropped it in the driveway and be looking for it. Or, at least, maybe the writer will come back and claim it.”
Brock’s phone toned for him to return home to put Connor to bed and then tackle his studies. He stuffed his phone in his back pocket and stood. “Do whatever you want with it. I gotta go.”
He leaned over to grab my hand and pulled me up next to him so he could kiss me goodbye.
“I could help you put Connor to bed,” I suggested.
Brock had been great about not pushing that part of his life on me, saying he wanted to take it slow. He did everything he could to prove that he wasn’t just looking for someone to take care of him and Connor. But like he’d said—he and Connor were a package. They came together. And as time had passed, my mixed feelings about babies, especially Connor, had evened out. He’d never be my baby, but that didn’t mean we couldn’t grow to be important in each other’s lives. So I tried to make more effort to show Brock that I accepted both of them.
Bedtime was special, though, as much for Daddy as for baby.
“I appreciate that. I do.” He bent down and pressed his lips lightly to mine. “Why don’t we take him to the park tomorrow?”
I smiled and agreed before sending him on his way, but not until after he kissed me crazy. Once he left, I picked up the old book and stared at it as I fell back onto the couch. I ran my fingers over the uneven leather of the cover. With such a strange story that sounded impossible, how could I feel like it was real? Not only real, but that in some way, it was even kind of familiar? Not the people or the events—I hadn’t even been alive back then—but some of the details of the story. Something wavered in the very far corners of my mind, like a fleeting memory that refused to come to the surface. I couldn’t place it, but as I held my palm against the cover, I felt certain there was more to the book than the story inside. I just had no idea what.
After too much time of actually considering this, I laughed at myself.
“You’re such a dork,” I said aloud. “Letting the bizarre tale get to you.”
I took the book into my room and placed it on top of the dresser. I didn’t know what to do with it, but neither throwing it away nor trying to find its owner were options. I’d figure it out later.
In April, we celebrated Connor’s half-year birthday. He really was a sweet little guy, and at six months, a lot of fun. He could sit up and kind of scoot around and play with toys. His face was constantly full of wonder. Brock brought him into our time together more and more, and I was falling just as much in love with him as I was with his dad. Or maybe more, since I still couldn’t be sure what Brock and I had was truly love.
Whatever it was, we were happy together. We had a good time. Whether it was lust or love, I felt whole and didn’t think I’d ever need more than this.
“You got him?” Brock asked as I headed for the driveway with Connor on my hip one April afternoon.
“Yeah, we’re fine,” I said over my shoulder. Brock was dragging a cart full of towels, blankets, toys, and other beach supplies. Taking a baby anywhere was like bringing half the house. When I walked through the gate, though, I was anything but fine. My jaw dropped, and I stopped in my tracks. Brock ran into me, making me take another couple of steps forward. Then he stopped, too, at the sight of the girl in front of us, who stared glassy eyed at Connor. “Kami?”
Her eyes flew to my face, and her brows shot to her hairline. “Asia? What—” She looked behind me, and her voice fell several octaves to a near whisper. “Brock.”
“What are you doing here?” he demanded from behind me, his voice harsher than I’d ever heard it. He stepped up next to me, looking between Kami and me. “Wait. You two know each other?”
Kami tilted her head, looked at me, and then at Connor. I didn’t think it possible, but her eyes grew even wider and her mouth stretched into a large O.
And then the truth hit me.
“Oh. My. God.” The words came out thickly as I choked on the realization. I shook my head in denial. “You … it can’t be. Not you.”
Tears stung my eyes. Everything was about to change.
“Yeah, we know each other,” Kami finally said in answer to Brock’s question as she crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes locked on me. “We met in a Single and Pregnant support group back at school.”
Chapter 14
The other Guardians still treated us like we had a contagious disease, so Asia sat in the corner of the dining room by herself, her head in her hand, and her jet-black hair curtaining her face. Her breakfast remained untouched. I stuck my tablet under my arm, grabbed a plate, and put a few random items from the buffet on it—a couple of hardboiled eggs for protein, a slice of multigrain toast, a banana, and an apple. The thought of putting anything in my mouth and actually swallowing it set off my gag reflex, but I needed to try to keep my energy up. The food would do nothing for the emptiness I felt in my gut. I just hoped it wouldn’t make the pain that never lessened any worse.
I set my plate and tablet across the table from Asia before going over to the beverage station to pour a cup of coffee and a glass of orange juice. The coffee was much needed. Asia and Brock’s story had filled my mind last night, as if I didn’t have enough shit already keeping me awake. At least it provided a distraction from my own misery.
Without a word, I sat down and stared at my plate. I sprinkled some salt and pepper on the eggs and lifted one of the slippery spheres to my mouth. My stomach heaved. Fuck. It’d been too long since the last time I’d eaten. Fighting and modeling had taught me good nutrition, and I’d been violating every rule since the night Leni disappeared. I sucked in a deep breath and stuffed the egg into my mouth, forcing myself to take a bite, to chew, to swallow. I shoved the second half in right after, chasing down the rubber bits and dry, pasty shit with a swig of orange juice. Then I sat for a moment, waiting to make sure it didn’t come back up. My stomach twisted and turned, but the egg stayed down.
“That looked painful,” Asia said.
My eyes shot up to her. I hadn’t realized she’d been watching me, because she’d been so engrossed in the Book of Phoenix. She hadn’t been writing in it, but studying it intensely.
“Yep. Pretty much.” I glanced at the Book and back up to her, lifting my
brow.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered, understanding my question.
“Good.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. I shrugged.
“I’m a guy. Talking’s not my thing, especially after not talking for so many years.”
She gave me a weak smile that I thought was supposed to be appreciative.
“But, you know, the shit I’ve been picking up on, which I can only assume came from that journal, is pretty serious, Asia. If you do need to talk, I’ll do my best to listen.”
She grimaced. “You’re getting it all?”
“How would I know? Every story has holes, so I can’t say for sure, but it seems like it. Yeah, I got the pool and the shower part.”
She groaned. “How embarrassing. I was just trying to reach out to Brock. Thought those parts might be enough to get a reaction from him. Something I could feel, you know?”
I chuckled. “If you knew what I used to be like, you’d know there’s no reason to be embarrassed. So did you feel him?”
She sighed. “Kind of. I think. I just don’t know if it’s real or because I want to so bad. He’s not adding to it any more, though. If he is, his writing’s not showing up in the Book. But I think he’s pulling away, Jeric. He doesn’t want to remember what comes next, I’m sure. And if he does … I don’t know what it’ll do to him. I honestly don’t know if I can take it, either. It’s bad. Dark. And I’m already feeling so Dark.”
“Maybe you should stop writing it down then.”
“I don’t know if I can. It may be painful, but it’s therapeutic. And, well, whether I’m imagining it or not, it makes me feel closer to Brock. Even the bad stuff.”
I tilted my head forward and looked up at her. “Don’t go Dark on me, Asia. I need you. If you go, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold my shit together.”
“I’m doing my best.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and the smile she tried to give me was watered down.
I nodded, taking what I could get because that’s all we could do any more, and picked up the apple. I reluctantly took a bite. It went down a little easier than the dry and rubbery egg, but my stomach still tightened when I swallowed. I sat for another moment, waiting. When I felt safe, I turned my tablet on. The screen I wanted was already open. I slid it over to Asia.
“Here’s some good news to cheer us up. Mason’s facing murder charges,” I said before she had a chance to read the article or watch the video from the Orlando news station. “For Sissy. Of course, nobody knows about the attempted murder on Bex.”
“Yeah, I guess she can’t press charges where she is now.” Her tone was bitter. She read the article on the screen, and then handed the tablet back to me before wiping at her eyes. “Poor Sissy. She shouldn’t have been involved.”
I rested my head in my hand and rubbed my temple. My knuckle slid back and forth over my brow ring. “In the wrong place at the wrong time. I could never really figure her out, but she didn’t deserve that.”
“The asshole murdered her. Almost killed Bex.” Asia’s tone had grown even sourer than my stomach felt. “He’ll probably get off easy with the death penalty when he deserves to rot in jail.”
“Probably not. He’ll buy his way out.”
“Of course he will. Dickhead. I hope he gets butt-fucked enough while he’s still in there to cause incontinence for the rest of his life.”
My nose wrinkled automatically. The chick was brutal. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll have issues, all right, with what you did.”
Asia crossed her arms on the table, leaned forward, and narrowed her eyes. She jabbed a finger in my direction. “No, Jeric. Don’t go there.”
I watched her silently as she glared at me, her eyes becoming watery. She finally looked away, shaking her head.
“No,” she repeated.
She still wasn’t going to talk about it. Although that night had been less than a week ago, it felt like it’d been months or even years since we’d found Bex bloody, bruised, and unconscious on Mason’s bed. He’d been standing over her, jerking off, when I walked in. The beating I gave him on Bex’s behalf was nothing compared to what Asia did to him. She wouldn’t tell me then what had driven her to stab him in the balls with a broken bottle, and she wasn’t going to tell me now. I was pretty sure not even Brock knew.
“Fine. I just can’t help but wonder what happened to you to make you hate men so much.”
“I don’t hate men, Jeric. Not real men. I don’t like coward assholes, okay?”
“Rich assholes, you mean.”
“Them, too.”
“Except Brock.”
Her eyes widened, and then her face crumpled. Shit. I’d pushed her too far. I had a bad habit of doing that with women.
“Brock is always the exception,” she said quietly. She looked away for a long moment, and I let it go. I forced another few bites of apple down the pie hole before she turned back to me. She pointed at the tablet. “Any news on Ty in there?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I can’t even find the report about his truck being out at the Lake Haven springs. Are you sure Brock got it right?”
She lifted a thin shoulder in a shrug. “He overheard the police scanner. Maybe it was someone else’s big, black truck. There’s enough of them in the South.”
“I guess we can hope.”
Something flickered in her eyes before she looked away again. Hope was hard to come by these days.
“I think Yoshi’s looking for you.” Asia tilted her head so her chin pointed to the entrance to the dining room.
I looked over my shoulder in that direction. Yoshi stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, his black hair sticking up as if he’d stuck his finger in a socket. I waved a hand at him, and he nodded before heading our way. He was thinner and shorter than me, but his white t-shirt and black cargo pants were snug over a cut body. Regardless of his size, he gave off the air of a formidable opponent. At least I wasn’t one of those.
“Hey,” he said as he stood in front of our table, eyeing our plates. “You two need to take care of yourselves.”
Neither of us replied. What could we say? It’s nothing we didn’t know already. The follow through was the hard part.
“Tasha and I and our people are taking off,” he continued as he pulled at his long goatee.
I bit my cheek to keep from scowling. Not that we’d become best friends or anything, but Yoshi was the closest I’d felt to having an equal here besides Asia. He didn’t treat us like we were any different the way everyone else did, expecting us to have all the answers. He at least gave some input, even if he left the final decision making to us. To me, more specifically.
“Our Gate needs us,” he finished when we still hadn’t said anything. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “But no worries. I’m only a phone call away.”
I stood up and returned the hand on the shoulder thing. “Thanks, dude. You’ve been a big help.”
He bowed his head. “Glad to do what we can.”
“Keep in touch. If shit gets hairy there in Tokyo, let me know.”
“Will do. It’s not good, but so far, nothing we can’t handle. We might be all right on this, Jeric. You just need to figure out how to get your other halves back as soon as possible.”
“No shit,” I muttered.
“Until next time, Asia. Tasha says bye, too.”
“Sayonara,” Asia replied.
Yoshi bowed his head again to her, and then to me. “Dewa mata.”
He turned on his heel like a soldier would and strode off. I wondered if we’d ever see him again.
“Not even ten in the morning and our day’s been nothing but a bag of shit, huh?” I said as I grabbed my tablet.
“Welcome to our new reality,” Asia muttered.
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“Things can only get better.” My lame-ass attempt at trying to keep a positive attitude. After all, Yoshi and his people were returning to Japan to guard their Gate. To fight if necessary. Which meant they still stood behind us instead of demanding to collapse the Gates. Until Leni and Brock were back, that was the most we could ask for.
Chapter 15
“I can’t believe Asia hadn’t told him she’d been pregnant,” Bex said quietly as we sat on the shore at the edge of the jungle. Apparently we’d all been feeling, for lack of a better word, Asia telling her and Brock’s story. Brock had been silent all day, a hard set to his jaw as he and Hayden waded in the water looking for some kind of marine life we could eat.
“We don’t know that she was,” I said. “We can’t jump to conclusions until we get the rest of the story.”
“I almost feel like I’m readin’ a good book, ya know? But more than that. Almost like living it in a way … but not. It’s so weird.”
“Yeah, it is,” I agreed.
I knew she meant how we “received” the story—a feeling that came through our souls—but everything about Brock and Asia’s relationship was strange. At least, different from most Guardian Twin Flames, as far as I knew. They’d said before that they’d had a lot of ups-and-downs in their relationship before realizing they were Twin Flames, but I hadn’t expected it had been as tumultuous as it actually had. And I knew we hadn’t even heard half the story yet. I figured they’d be dying of soul sickness by now, or attacked by the Lakari. How had they Bonded and not attracted the Dark souls’ attention? It was almost as if they’d been somehow protected. I was just as curious as Bex to find out what happened next.
“Everything about this life is weird,” she added.
I snorted. “Now that’s an understatement. You’re taking it better than I expected.”
“Ha! My nightmares and all.”
