Little Nathan gives him a side-eye glance.
Nathan adds, “I’m serious. It’s in the past. Don’t let it happen again.”
“It won’t. Tracey, I’m sorry about what happened. And I’m happy for you. I’m sure my brother appreciates you not killing him.”
My brows furrow as I yelp, “What?”
Little Nathan shrugs and leaves. Taylor takes the vacant spot, setting the card table chairs down in front of us. Justin and her sit and stare.
“Taylor, whatever you have to say, today is not the day to say it,” I warn.
“When will be a good day to say it?” she counters.
I lean over on my knees, planting my warming hands on my thighs. I stare in her dark red eyes and hope my sardonic expression conveys my revulsion. “The day I am standing over your grave.”
“Tracey, please? Just hear me out.”
I meet Nathan’s eyes. “It’s up to you, Sparks,” he says, shifting his gaze away from me. Seems like he’s the least interested in this, but if he didn’t want to hear her out, he would’ve walked away.
“Tracey, come on. You are my sister.”
Giving in, I lean back on the couch, but I don’t meet her eyes.
“Thank you. I’m sorry about everything, Sparks. I don’t know what came over me, I love my family, I was selfish and wrong, I made decisions that were uncharacteristic of me, and I hurt the second most important person in my life. Being rejected by someone I care about is a pain I can’t withstand. I should’ve never done that and betrayed you all. I’m sorry to the three of you, and I hope the two of you will accept me back.” She pokes out her lip and gives me the saddest puppy dog eyes.
I cross my legs, unmoved by her apology. I want to be . . . but I’m not. “Don’t call me Sparks.”
Taylor flicks her gaze from me to Nathan. “Little brother, forgive me. Please? I was caught up in selfishness, wanting a better life for Justin and me, thinking that going outside of the family could get me what I wanted when all it got me was a stab in my back. I was wrong, and I’m sorry. But I can’t live with you not in my life, keeping me at a distance, and treating me like I’m your enemy even though we sleep under the same roof.”
Nathan scrapes his nails over his beard, fixing Taylor with a studious glower. He drones, “I slept under the same roof with my father for my entire life, and you see what happened to him.”
“Nate, please. I love you. I know I messed up big, but you have to let me back in.”
“I don’t have to do anything.” He pauses and arches his left brow. “But know the next time you bring harm to my family, I will end you. No words involved. You’re my sister, and until the next day you cross me, we’re cool.” He smirks.
She smiles and stands with her arms spread out at her sides. He hugs her loosely. “Thank you, Nathan.” She looks over at me. “Now you, Tracey?”
“No. I’m not hugging you. But if Nate’s okay with you, then you’re okay with me.” I stand. “I’m not there yet.” I pass her, but she pulls my arm and hugs me anyway. Upon her release, I turn away from her, heading out of the great room.
Natalia meets Nathan and me on our exit. “I know you don’t mean it, but thank you,” she says to him. He hugs her and continues onward.
“You thirsty?” he asks as we enter the kitchen.
“Yes. Apple juice, please?”
He pours me a glass and grabs himself a bottled water. We sit at the island in silence. My apple juice is sweet and cold sliding over my tongue, but I can’t shake the heat, this melting feeling that battles against the trimmers in my gut.
“Nathan, Roseland wants to speak with you,” Natalia interrupts the silence, coming up behind him.
Nathan rises from the barstool, sliding me his empty bottle. “Alright, Mom. Thanks.”
Natalia sits beside me, taking Nathan’s seat. “I’m relieved for you, Tracey.”
“Thanks.” I toss his empty bottle and place my glass in the sink before returning to my spot. “I feel really awkward. I want to be happy, and then I want to be sad. I’m trying to hold it together, though, because I know when I’m sad and stuff, it bothers Nathan. And, he’s dealing with his own grief.”
She takes my hand. Turning it over, she studies my palm, and I feel her will it to turn black. The blackness quickly fades in, spreading from its center to my fingertips.
“How’d you do that?” I say, amazed, watching my consoling vines slither along my arm and, in a way, hug me.
“I can only do it to you because of the connection I have with my son. I’m able to latch on to his ability of control.”
I knit my brows, unsure of how I should respond to this.
“Nathan is unique, Tracey. Holding the personality of a lion, he’s confident, a leader, demanding, and even arrogant. He can be indifferent in dealing with most, but he has a genial quality that makes you love him.” She tucks my hair behind my right ear as the burning feather appears on my cheek. “He told me you two fight a lot, and that you’re indifferent about a lot of things. More apprehensive and insecure. Everything okay?”
I look down and away at the feet of her barstool. “We do. I don’t mean to fight with him. It’s just been a lot to deal with, and he has this annoying block the world out personality sometimes. It makes me so upset he won’t sit down, open up, and talk to me. At first, I thought he was afraid I’d change my mind about him if he were to be his real self, but I’ve told Nathan over and over I’m here with him, accepting of him no matter the circumstances, the secrets, or the truths. But he still won’t . . . I don’t know . . . bare his soul to me. I guess that’s what I want him to do.”
She cackles. “That’s been Nathan since he was a child.” She turns, gaze fixed on the window that sits above the sink. It reflects the kitchen; her and I sitting at the island. Natalia’s dark hair hangs around her head, and her red-rimmed eyes reveal she’s still pained by the loss of her husband. She blinks. “Nathan’s always been guarded, never letting anyone in to understand him. You’d have to knock down every mountain on earth before you make it through to that boy. It’s because of the childhood he had. Starting with his father. One thing I tried to instill in Nathan was to cherish your family, stand by your family. But, it’s been family that has always let him down, or turned their backs on him.” She gives me a tight-lipped grin. “It’s made him a tough cookie.”
“But when he wouldn’t help Taylor, you threatened him with being banned.” Turning your back on him.
She nods, meeting my eyes. “I did. So that he would help. I have to be hard with Nathan, or I won’t get anything out of him.”
“But that resulted in him moving out.” I don’t understand how this helped her.
She nods. “I wasn’t expecting that. But now, having you, Nathan has things to consider, and if he feels that having a place of his own will be better for his and your protection—.”
“Wait,” I cut her off, slapping my palm on the counter. “What else is there? Everything is over, now, right?”
“He’s Burdened, Tracey. One thing I want you to understand about his life is. . .” She takes a deep breath and then slowly releases it. “He is never without trouble, and he made it worse when he went out and rebelled against the family, making more enemies than he can count. The burning feather on your cheekbone is Nathan’s symbol. The indication of something beautiful, tarnished by fraught.”
“The beauty of a feather, burning in a set flame,” I say. Her statement compels me to realize its beauty. I used to hate this ugly feather and recalling what it looks like; it’s immaculate.
Deep-set, hazel eyes meet mine. She says, “He may be hard to understand, he may be too tough or aggressive at times, unbeknownst to him. But he is a beautiful creature tarnished by fraught, and I don’t mean by his Burdened. It’s by his past and the curse placed over him. I’m not saying this to justify his actions, because he damn well better know how to control himself. I’m saying that there is nothing to doubt. My son loves yo
u, Tracey.”
I thread my fingers through my curls and exhale. “I love him.”
Nathan comes up behind us. “Who do you love?”
I smile at Natalia before turning my attention to Nathan. “Huh?”
He matches my smile, and there’s light that slices through the darkness of this day. “What are you two talking about?”
“Burning feathers,” Natalia states simply. She gets up from the stool, and on her passing, she throws a few pats against Nathan’s chest before heading from the kitchen.
Nathan looks me over, rubbing his thumb across my cheekbone. The feather disappears along with the vines. “Burning feathers?”
I kiss his palm he’s left resting against my cheek. “Yes. Beautifully burning feathers.”
“Sparks, let me ask you a question, and you treat it as just a question,” Nathan says as we head upstairs.
“Okay?”
“Would you want to stay in this area, by your parents’ house, or somewhere completely different?”
Turning down the corners of my mouth, I mutter, “Uhh, I’m not sure.”
“Or I can choose, and you just tag along.”
“I don’t want that. When you look, take me with you. Don’t spring it on me a week before you move,” I chaff, trying to find a laugh inside of me somewhere.
I walk into Nathan’s bedroom, cross the floor bathroom, and flick the light. To the left of me, my reflection requests me to meet my eyes. I flick my gaze to it, seeing Glen instead of myself. A bright smile flitters across her face, and my cheeks rise. I blink, film leaving my eyes, and she’s gone. I stare back at myself, a smile drowning on the face of sorrow I’m hoping didn’t look as bad as I feel while we were downstairs.
Turning on the rain showerhead, I make the water as hot as I can stand it and step in. Bathing is hard. My arms are heavy and the gentle patter of the water is more like pebbles pounding against my skin.
This isn’t something easy to overcome. The thought of her, of it, plows into me like a wrecking ball. It’s a constant thought of images I’ll never unsee, feelings I’ll never un-feel.
On the other hand, I have this background eagerness—freedom. It feels wrong to be happy for me.
The bathroom door opens. “Sparks, you’ve been in the shower going on an hour. You okay?”
“Has it been that long already? I’m still trying to figure out if I’m okay.”
“You want to talk?”
“I can talk.”
“Don’t turn off the water.” Nathan closes the door.
I ring my hair and step out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. Nathan gets in, changing the water’s patter. He likes for it to pound against his body like the rush from a fire hose. It hurts.
I sit on the floor with my back against the closed door, thinking. It takes minutes before the words push past my lips. “It’s too much. My feelings are fighting against each other.”
“Bittersweet,” he offers.
“Right. How do you feel?” I ask, wanting to be sure I’m not experiencing this mixture of feelings alone.
“Same. I’m angry as fuck. Then, I’m relieved too. I feel responsible for them being gone. I keep replaying it over and over, trying to figure out a different outcome. It doesn’t matter much, but if I could just understand it, maybe it’ll lessen the blow.”
“I’ve been trying to think of something we could’ve done differently, coming up with nothing. He was just so fast . . .” I can’t shake that. “And I feel bad being happy for us when I know I should be mad about losing my friends.”
“This may sound bad, but we’re not supposed to mourn death, but be content that our loved ones are in a better place. It sounds wrong, and because we’re earthly and made of flesh, we feel bad about things and people we lose. It’s natural, but we’ll learn to accept it and understand they’re better off. Happier there than what they were here.”
“That sounds bittersweet too.”
“It’s all vanity, Sparks. Life is.”
“Your years on Earth have installed such wisdom in you, Great Nathan.”
“Don’t call me that,” he quips unharshly. “I’ve seen death in its worst form, Sparks. Too many people have been ripped from me, and it doesn’t get easier. I always think it will, but it never does. It may even hurt worse, the more people I lose, especially when it’s because of me. I catch myself in the same spot—trying to figure out what I could’ve done to change anything—angry with myself that I couldn’t save them, or that I couldn’t take their place.”
“You’ve lost someone more important to you than Scott?”
“I’ve lost enough.” He says in a monotone, as if he’s unfazed, but I know he is.
Oh! I know how to help us feel better. “You want me to tell you a joke? I have some good ones.”
He chuckles. “That was it, right?”
I laugh at his doubt in my joking skills. “It wasn’t, actually.”
“Fine. Go for it.” I hear his smile, and his voice has lightened, which was exactly my aim.
“Okay.” I sit up on my knees. “There once was a man who lived in a shoe.”
Nathan laughs.
“Wait, Nate. I haven’t made it to the punch line yet,” I say, bummed.
Cracking up, he manages, “It’s not a man, Sparks. It’s a lady. And that’s not a joke, it’s a nursery rhyme.”
“Oh yeah, right.” I pinch my bottom lip between my fingers. “Okay. Stop laughing. Let me try again. There was a man who walked into a bar.”
Laughing, he says, “God, I love you, Tracey Warren. Thank you.”
I bow my head and smile to myself. Though I didn’t get to tell my joke, my mission is complete. “Thank you, Nathan.” I leave him to his shower and go to dress. Laying in the bed, I recall my fear of sleep, but I close my eyes and there’s no Roehl. There’s no worry that during my slumber, I’ll require another man other than my mate. I find triumph in defeating that disaster.
I pull the sheets up to my neck and drift off.
Soft knocks sound against the bedroom’s door.
“No! Nobody’s home,” I grump. The door opens. “Oh. I’m sorry, Nick.” I sit up, patting the bed. “Come on.”
He rushes over and climbs atop it and over to me. Wrapping his little arms around my neck, he squeezes me tightly, and I hold him. “I’m sorry about Glen, Tracey. Although she was weird, I liked her.”
“Thank you.” I hug him tighter.
“You’re welcome.” He draws back and looks to Nathan coming out of the bathroom.
“Hey, Nick. Wassup?”
Nicholas runs over to him and hugs his waist. Nathan picks him up, and Nicholas cries, “I am going to miss Scott so much.”
Aww. I chew on my lip, wishing I had an ability to suck away the sorrow.
“I know.” Nathan rubs his back. “Me too,” he softly finishes.
“Can I stay in here with you two, just for tonight?”
Nathan meets my eyes, and I hurry to nod. “Yeah, of course,” he tells him. In rushes Curtis and Cindy with teary red eyes and in their pajamas.
I have to hold up a strong guard against my tears as they jump up on the bed, throw their arms around my neck, and pat my back. “It’ll be okay, Tracey.” Gosh, I don’t want to cry in front of the babies, but they’re making that hard.
“And I suppose you two munchkins want to stay in here too?” Nathan asks, placing Nicholas to the floor.
The twins rush over to him, and he squats, embracing them. “Yes, please?” they chime in unison.
Nathan stands with them in his arms and drops them off on the bed as he continues to the closet. “Fine,” he agrees, closing the door.
The three of them crowd around me, getting comfortable under the sheets. I can’t think of a better way to wrap up this day. Having Nick, Curt, and Cindy around averts my mind from Glen and the sick and crazy events that have happened.
Nathan and I lay with the kids snuggled between us, watching Nick Jr.
until they fall asleep.
Nick and Cindy instantly fall asleep. But Curt’s wide awake.
After two more shows, his eyes droop close. I hit the power button on the remote, unable to take another Bubble Guppies song. The darkness is comforted by their soft snores, and it’s surprisingly peaceful.
I stretch my hand under the pillows until I find Nathan’s, and he interlocks our fingers. “You know, some years from now, this’ll be us with our family,” he jokes.
“Yeah. . . I don’t know about that if we have to watch Wow Wow Wubbzy. How do they get into that?” It was song after song that I’m never going to get out of my head.
Nathan laughs. “It’s not that bad.”
“Right,” I drag.
“Goodnight, Sparks.”
“I love you, Nate.”
openly deceptive
I wake up to a fist in my throat and a foot in my rib cage. Easing off the bed, I escape without waking anyone.
This morning’s a breath of fresh air. I inhale again, sinking into my corner chair and wrapping the throw around me. Glen rests heavily on my mind. The moment I heard her voice in my mind replays over and over, and I just want to go back there and relive that excitement.
Someone knocks on the door.
The sun’s barely even up for Pete’s sake. Reluctantly, I pull myself from the chair to answer it. I pull open the door.
“Hi, Tracey. Did I wake you?” Ann greets with a grin that barely lightens her deep brown eyes.
“No, not at all,” I say, covering my yawn.
“I thought you and Nathan might be tired of the children by now.”
Pulling the door open wider, I allow her view into the room. “No, actually, they’re fine. Still sleeping.”
She takes a step forward but doesn’t enter. “I see.” Chuckling, she says, “Had they been with us, they’d be up before the sun fully lit the sky.” She hasn’t looked outside because she is up before the sun’s fully lit the sky.
I match her titter. “I believe you.”
“Okay, well, I’ll let them sleep. Nathan looks like he’s in deep too.”
Brazen: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 2) Page 37
