Maybe I am.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Loki’s eyes widen as the plane slightly jolts.
“I’m fine.” I reach for my bag under the seat in front of me “Loki, relax. The flight’s almost over.”
He nods yet doesn’t release his death grip until the plane lands and pulls up to the terminal.
“Thank God that’s over.” He sighs in relief as we make our way into the crowded airport. “I hate flying.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
He shoots me a dirty look, but then smiles. “It’s good to hear you joke again. I was worried—”
“That I was broken,” I finish for him as I wind around a couple making out in front of the escalator. “I’m not.”
What a lie.
When did I become such a liar?
He stares at me, concern flooding his eyes. It makes me wonder if he can see any sign of the bubbly, popular sister he grew up with. Or, does he only see the broken down, screwed up woman I have become? I wonder if he can see the darkness now living inside me.
I sink into my worries as we collect our bags from baggage claim then make our way through customs. Loki tries to make small talk with me but keeps getting interrupted by texts from Anna, Easton, and Nikoli.
I sit on top of my suitcase to rest my eyes when my phone buzzes from inside my pocket. Yawning, I fish it out and my heart sinks.
Cole: Think you can escape me that easy? You were very chatty that night you took a life. I can easily find you. You’re not done with the game yet. In fact, you’re just getting started.
Four
There are a handful of things I remember from that night:
Being tied up.
Flashing strobe lights.
People cheering.
The smell of vodka and vomit.
Being blindfolded
A cold, metal object in my hand.
A scream.
Someone announcing I was the winner.
After that, everything became hazy until the next morning when I woke up with blood on my hands and Rae’s cold, dead body beside mine. Her short brown hair was stained with blood, her skin was white as snow, and a trail of dry blood ran down her chin. I had no idea how she died—there was too much blood everywhere. So much blood, everywhere. My stomach lurched and I threw up everywhere. Then Cole and Del came in and took a photo, telling me, if I ever spoke to anyone about this, I’d be held accountable.
I wanted to believe that I didn’t do anything, but the fogginess and black space of time in my mind left me uncertain. So, I told them okay, and then I ran.
They texted me a few days later, telling me I wasn’t done yet.
While I want to believe they can’t—and won’t—try to find me, having no clue what’s going on leaves me uncertain.
I try my best to shove the text far, far away as Loki and I head for the car. It feels strange being so close to home. The last time I came back was for the funeral, and I was a blubbering mess as I wandered around the airport on autopilot. Sadly, I feel the same way now.
Come on, Jessa, snap out of it. Cole and Del won’t track you down all the way here.
When Loki asks me if I’m okay, I blame my fatigue on the jetlag. But he and I know the real reason my head feels fuzzy and my shoulders heavy.
The therapist suggested I start taking some medication to help with the depression. Although I told him I would give it some consideration, I’m not sure if I want to do that yet, too afraid it I start opening up to some stranger, I might spill out everything that’s causing my chest to ache.
“Are you hungry?” Loki asks as he backs out of the parking space. “We can stop and pick something up if you want.”
I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m okay.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind.” He thrums his fingers on top of the steering wheel as we wait in line to pay the parking toll.
The silence between us is driving me crazy and sends me to overthinking mode, trying to create plans on how to fix my life, nitpicking my life choices, and cursing my bad decisions.
Loki and I used to not be so distant. We used to talk about all kinds of stuff: the trouble we got into, the parties we were going to, the awesome stuff we were going to do in the future. Now there is a wall between us, something I noticed on the phone whenever we talked. It was easier to ignore with thousands of miles between us, but now it’s the purple polka-dotted elephant doing the disco in the corner of the room.
“So, how’s online school going?” I ask, hoping to distract myself from my thoughts.
“It’s okay.” He fiddles with the stereo until he finds the classic rock station. “Online classes are more manageable because I can work on stuff on my own time.”
“Do you miss college life?”
“Not really,” he says with a shrug.
I can tell he’s lying by the thickness in his tone. Whether he’s lying to me or himself, I’m not sure.
“What about Dad’s store? How’s that going?”
“It’s going good, I guess.” He drives forward with the line. “I rearranged some of the bookshelves and stuff, but I pretty much kept the place the same as when Dad had it.”
“So, you’re going to keep it, then?”
“Yeah, I think so. It works well with everything else going on.”
“What about your philosophy plans?”
He gives me a perplexed sidelong glance. “What about them?”
I slip off my sandals and roll down the window, letting in the warm June air. “I thought you were majoring in philosophy.”
He shakes his head as he reaches for his wallet in the console. “I switched majors when I started online classes. I’m a business major now.” He slides the ticket into the machine then takes out a few bills from his wallet. “I thought it’d be more useful for running the store.”
I slump back in the seat. “How did I not know about any of this? I mean, I knew you were running the store, but I thought you were still working on your degree in philosophy.”
He sticks the dollar bills into the machine. “I’m pretty sure I told you I changed majors. I did it right after … Mom and Dad died.”
No, I don’t think he told me. Then again, when I think back to the last handful of months, most of the memories are hazy, as if I was disconnected, watching everything happen instead of experiencing it. Even before Cole and Del came along.
I was depressed well before then.
He sits back, rolling up the window. When he shoves the shifter into drive to pull forward, he glances at me. My expression makes him frown.
“I really thought I told you. I’m sorry if I didn’t. I just forget stuff sometimes. Seriously, having kids makes you feel like you’re losing your mind sometimes. I totally get why Dad was always burning breakfast and forgetting to take out the trash.”
“I’m not upset.” How can I be when I’m keeping so much from him? “I just feel out of the loop with everyone’s lives. It’s partly my fault. I haven’t been a very good sister.”
“You have, too. You’ve just had your own life, like you’re supposed to.”
“No, I should’ve been more involved. I should know more about what’s going on with everyone.”
“I’ll start telling you more stuff.” He drives out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “But I feel like I should warn you. My life’s pretty boring.”
I prop my feet up on the dashboard. “I’m sure Alexis, Nik, Zhara, and Anna keep you on your toes. At least, they do if they were anything like us when we were teenagers.”
He smiles at that. “We did some really stupid shit, didn’t we?”
I nod, not mentioning I still do a lot of stupid shit. “Remember that one-time Mom and Dad went out of town and we thought it’d be a fantastic idea to throw a paint party?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, I have no idea what the hell we were thinking. Spray painting in the backyard? What was wrong with us?�
��
I almost smile, which feels weird. “It seemed like a cool idea at the time. I just wish I’d paid more attention to what kind of paint I bought. I thought I was buying washable, but nope.”
With a big grin, he reaches for his sunglasses tucked in the visor. “You know there are still a few spots of neon pink paint on the back patio.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Uh-huh. I’m surprised Mom and Dad never noticed.”
“They probably did. They just most likely thought one of the neighbor kids did it. They thought we were too good of kids to have a rager in the backyard.” How wrong they were. At least, about me.
“It wasn’t really a rager.” He flips on the blinker and changes lanes. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“I’m still not sure how so many people found out about it. I only invited, like, twenty people. Everyone just kept telling everyone, and suddenly, the whole school showed up. Stuff got so out of control.”
“You were too popular for your own good,” he teases. “Everyone wanted to be Jessa Baker’s friend.”
I give a strained smile, but the movement aches.
Once upon a time, I was popular. Now look at me. Alone. Friendless. I lost touch with most of my friends the moment I moved away, mostly because I was too busy. The only person I ever really regret not staying in touch with, though, is Milo. I thought about calling him, but after what happened between us, I never knew what to say. Even at my parents’ funeral, we didn’t talk much. Of course, I was pretty much an emotional basket case then.
I refused to cry during the entire funeral, trapping in all of my emotions until I got home and was alone in the bathroom. I do remember Milo giving me a hug when we were at the church and telling me he was there if I needed to talk. I almost allowed myself to collapse in his arms, but I forced myself to keep it together, not wanting my younger brother and sisters to see me fall apart.
I wanted to talk to Milo later, yet there was so much going on. I contemplated calling him when I got back to London, but then I pictured the pain in his eyes that night on his tailgate and convinced myself he didn’t want to hear from me, that his offer was just because he felt sorry for me.
What will happen when I run into him again? Or any of my old friends, for that matter? Will they want to talk to me? What am I going to tell people when they ask why I’m back in Honeyton? I’m bound to cross paths with some people I used to know since this town is super small, something I’m reminded of as Loki steers down the exit ramp and onto the only main road.
Stores selling homemade items, a bank, a grocery store, a handful of restaurants, and only two gas stations are pretty much all that makes up the town. There are no chain stores, well-known fast food places, or places to shop and buy clothes, giving the area a homey, small town vibe that tourists seem to love.
Most of the community is middle-class, with a couple of fancier subdivisions, but out near the cemetery where my parents are buried and farther down is a little more rundown.
Where my parents are buried … The painful reminder aches all the way to my bones.
“Shit,” Loki curses, yanking me out of my trance. “I need to stop and get gas.”
I internally grimace. I’m more than likely going to bump into someone during our stop.
While Loki turns into the closest gas station, I frantically try to put together a good excuse to give people when they ask why I’m home. I’m just visiting for the summer? Simple enough. Maybe.
“Do you need anything?” Loki asks, parking the car in front of the gas pump.
“A soda, but I can get it. I need to get some new sunglasses, anyway. It’s crazy bright out here.” I reach for the door handle, squinting at the store, trying to see if I recognize the cashier. However, the windows are too tinted to see inside clearly, so I suck it up and drag my ass out of the car. “You want me to get you anything?” I ask as I walk backward toward the store.
“Yeah, grab me a soda and a bag of M&Ms.” He winds around the back of the car, retrieving his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans.
“I can pay for a soda and some candy.” I continue to back away. “I have a ton of change in my purse.”
“Keep your change for something else.” He opens his wallet and digs out a ten. When he tries to hand the cash to me, I shake my head, but he gives me an uncompromising look. “Just take the damn money, or I’ll go in and pay for it myself.”
I peer around at a couple of bystanders watching the scene go down then step closer to him. “I don’t want to be a charity case.”
“You’re not a charity case.” His expression softens as he shoves the crumpled ten-dollar bill into my palm. “Mom and Dad left money for all of us.”
“I know that.” My fingers curl around the money. “But you gave me some of that money already. I don’t deserve any more.”
“Yes, you do.” Without waiting for me to respond, he puts his wallet away and backs toward the pumps.
Back in the day, he wouldn’t have won the argument. Even though he is my older brother, he used to be a pushover, and I was a brat who loved to get my way. I walked all over him like a little shit. Now look at us. He’s giving me money because I’m flat-ass broke and can’t take care of myself.
Sighing, I enter the gas station. The door dings, announcing my presence, and the cashier, a mid-forties woman with bleach blonde hair, turns in my direction. I breathe in relief when I realize I don’t know her. I’m also the only customer in the store, which is surprising since it’s the start of tourist season.
“How’s it going?” I greet the woman with a wave then stroll down the candy aisle.
After I grab a bag of M&Ms and a Snickers, I head for the soda section. I’m so absorbed in deciding what I want to drink that I barely register the door ding.
“Dr. Pepper or water? Hmmm … What to do? What to do?” I thrum my finger against my lip. “Do I really want to try to pretend I’m being healthy?” I roll my eyes at myself. “Yeah, right.”
As I open the door and reach for a bottle of soda, I feel someone move up beside me. I quickly grab the soda and step back to give them room. But then I get a good look at the person and freeze.
Shit.
I knew I was going to bump into familiar people, but I definitely wasn’t ready to run into him.
“Hey, Jessa.” Milo offers me a tentative smile.
“Hey,” I reply as casually as I can, though I’m a nervous wreck inside. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” He rubs his hand over his cropped brown hair, his hazel eyes all over me, making me feel self-conscious. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”
“Yeah, neither did I.” I nervously rotate the dewy bottle between my hands. “I actually just got here. I haven’t even been home yet.”
“Oh.” His lips part then shut.
Awkward silence clutches the air. I can’t tell if it’s from me calling him when I almost overdosed, or if it has to do with me breaking his heart before I took off to London. I doubt it’s the latter. I’m sure he’s gotten over it by now. Milo is a great guy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a steady girlfriend, or even a wife.
The wife idea doesn’t sit very well with me, and I find myself stealing a glance at his ring finger. I’m too relieved to find the finger bare.
What is wrong with me? Does it really matter if he’s married? I can’t date him. I can’t drag him into the shit storm that is my life.
He shifts his weight and starts fiddling with the button on the sleeve of his shirt, and that’s when I suddenly notice the police uniform he’s wearing.
My gaze travels up and down him. God Lord, he looks good in a uniform. I mean, he was always good-looking, but I don’t remember him being this hot. Or maybe he was, and I was too blind to notice. I was too blind to notice a lot of stuff.
Memories and regret stab at the back of my mind, but I shut them down. No, I’m not going there right at this moment!
“So, you’re a cop?�
� I ask stupidly. “When did that happen? I thought you were going to school.”
He blinks down at his uniform like he totally forgot he was wearing it. “I stopped going to school and …” He scratches the back of his neck uneasily. “But, yeah, I’ve been doing this for about eight months now. I thought maybe your sister told you.”
He stopped going to school? When? Why? I want to ask, but he looks uncomfortable right now, so I let him off the hook.
“Which sister knows you’re a cop?” I ask then shake my head. “Never mind. It has to be Anna.”
He nods. “She seems to be doing better. We haven’t gotten any calls about Anna getting in trouble since December.”
“She is. She just graduated, and she’s taking off for college in the fall.” I discreetly check him out again. He seems different, more serious and guarded, not the smiling, sweet, lighthearted guy I was friends with for years. Perhaps I really don’t know him anymore.
That thought makes my chest ache. Then again, he doesn’t really know me, either.
“That’s good.” He hesitates. “How are you doing? Is everything … okay?”
I let the breath trapped in my chest ease from my lips as I consider pouring my heart out to him. Standing here with him again, I realize I could talk to him like I used to. I could tell him everything I’m feeling, how I screwed up, about the night … He knows so much about me. He might understand.
I mentally shake my head at myself. No, Jessa. No matter how good of a guy Milo is, he could never understand that.
“Yeah,” I lie. “Everything’s fine.”
Fine. My placement word for when I don’t want to tell people the truth, something Milo knows. I wonder if he will call me out on it.
He studies me closely, his lips parting. “Are you sure?” He swallows hard then looks away. “That’s good you’re doing okay.” He grabs a soda from the freezer then offers me a stiff smile. I notice a slight tremble in his hand. Strange. “It was nice bumping into you. Maybe I’ll see you around.”
Unveiled (The Unveiling Book 1) Page 3
