Blackout (Lewiston Blues Series/Black Family Saga Book 2)

by Scully, Felicia X.

  It isn’t until I’ve uttered the last word that I realize I’m no longer whispering. I’m yelling. Screaming so loud my head hurts and Mom has appeared on the main stairwell, Dad not far behind. My eyes are blurry as I race past them toward my room. I lock the door behind me, sink to the floor and let it all go.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Ross

  When I wake up the next morning, Maya’s still here. Her clothes anyway. I roll my eyes as I gather up the trail of clothing that leads upstairs, toward the bathroom. She isn’t very subtle and I don’t find it the least bit sexy. The shower is still running when I deposit the clothes in front of the bathroom door, and I hope to god she’ll get the hint and finally go home. I’m not in the mood for her today, as intriguing as her offer is, now that I’ve slept on it, I need to think about it some more. Maybe run it by Luke first.

  The doorbell rings and I groan. It’s like a revolving door around here. I’ve given up on the idea of Sheila coming back. She didn’t even bother to call. She could’ve called. If she’d at least said something to me, I might hold out some hope but, as it stands, I’m pretty sure she’s gone for good.

  When I open the front door, I know exactly who I’m staring at without him even having to tell me.

  “Chiclet Teeth. What the hell do you want?”

  He frowns. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s…” I snap my fingers trying to recall his name. “Dave, right?”

  He nods. “I’m looking for Sheila.”

  “Well, you just missed her. By about,” I look pointedly at my bare wrist. “Twenty-four hours and change. What, she didn’t leave you a note?”

  “Uh…no.” He clears his throat. “She—I picked her up here Saturday morning. She wanted to see her parents and, well, she left and they haven’t heard from her. I figured she’d come back here.”

  “Well you figured wrong.”

  “You haven’t heard from her?”

  “Nope,” I reach up to close the door.

  “Wait,” he calls out. “Uh…” He falters for a second, his gaze moving behind me.

  I follow it, noticing Maya on the top step, dressed in nothing but one of my t-shirts. Great. Looks like she didn’t take the hint after all.

  Dave clears his throat again. “If you do—hear from her—will you tell her to call me? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

  I stare back at him, trying to decide whether I should play the jealous idiot or the nonchalant bystander. I decide on the latter. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I move to shut the door, then think better of it. “Uh, hey, Dave. You still lookin’ out for my brother’s kid?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “He doing okay?”

  He smiles and nods. “Getting big, you know? Has a birthday coming up.”

  I nod. “Didn’t know that.”

  “March 21st.”

  “Cool. I, um, I’ll be sure to pick something up for him. Look, I was wondering. If it’s not asking too much, you think maybe he could come for a visit?”

  “You want to see, Ray?” He’s grinning now and I close my eyes ready to drop the bomb.

  “Well, no. I mean yeah. That’d be great. I’ve never actually met the kid and if his sister’s any indication, he must be cute as hell. But, um, it’s Luke that wants to see him. I was hoping I could take him there.”

  “To the prison?”

  I nod, my mouth dry.

  Dave runs a hand over his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know, man. I mean I could try. But I’m not sure his grandparents would approve of—”

  I scoff. “Yeah, man. I get it. Take care.” I reach out to close the door but he stops me.

  “Hold on a sec,” he says, pulling out his wallet. “If it were up to me, I’d be all for it. But I don’t think they’ll budge on the issue. But, um, here.” He holds his hand out. “This picture was taken about a month ago. It’s the most recent one I have. Don’t have any of Mariah just yet but I can send some once she’s home.”

  I nod, taking the picture from him. “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, no problem. Look, I’m sorry. Like I said, if it were up to me—I mean I could ask them.”

  “No it’s okay. Thanks for this.”

  The moment I shut the door, it takes everything inside of me not to put my fist through the glass. Those people. From the moment they met my brother they judged him. They never gave him a chance to be the man he is. It’s ridiculous and unfair. They’ve always acted like he wasn’t good enough. Even when Shannon was on her deathbed they tried to leave him out. And now…

  I shake my head. It’s not like I can blame them. He’s in jail. He fucked up when he got on that bike. I fucked up by giving it to him. By asking him to take part in my dream of being in that stupid band in the first place—changing his path just to make me happy. And now I have to make things right. But this isn’t over. They may have rights, but so do we.

  “Who was that?” Maya asks, slinking into the living room and settling onto the sofa, cross-legged.

  I look away immediately and make my way back toward the stairs.

  “No one,” I say as I mount the steps. “Do me a favor?”

  “Anything,” she says in a voice dripping with sex.

  “Get dressed and get the hell out. I’ve got things to do.”

  I barely register a small gasp as I close the bathroom door behind me.

  My gaze is fixed on Pete Warren’s face, as he flips back through the notepad he’s been scribbling on, then tosses it on the desk in front of him.

  “What do you think?” I ask, sitting forward in my chair. “Do we have a shot?”

  Pete nods, slowly, twisting his lips to the side. “I think so. I mean you’ve definitely shown a vested interest in both children. Paying the hospital bill was a smart move. And we could probably try to get some kind of testimony from a few of the nurses. If you’ve been visiting her, like you say, it’ll count for something. My only issue is your status.”

  “My status?” I frown.

  “You’re single, Ross.” He waves toward me, quirking an eyebrow. “And no offense, but you look like you do. I’m not sure how well that’ll go over with a judge. You’re also broke. Whether you paid the hospital bill or not, you’ve still got nothing.”

  “I can take the piercings out, cover up the tattoos. And I won’t be broke forever. I’m opening a restaurant and I’ve got assets. I could always sell some of my stuff.”

  Pete scratches his chin. “Most restaurants don’t do very well in the first year. Some of them don’t even make it.”

  “So I’ll talk to Luke about the Trust Fund. He wants to leave it for the kids anyway.”

  “But it’s in Luke’s name. For a case like this, you’ll want to distance yourself from him as much as possible.”

  I scoff. “Seriously? It’s not like he’s a pedophile. He was in a car accident.”

  “Because he was driving under the influence. He’s still a criminal and I’m sorry, Ross but it just won’t look good.”

  “So what are you saying? I’ve got no say. They just get to make all the decisions? They’re no more family than I am? That’s not fair.”

  Pete nods. He picks up his coffee cup and takes a sip. “You’re right. It’s not. I’m not saying we can’t go to trial here, I’m just saying it won’t be easy. You’re on your own. They’ve got an army. The ex-boyfriend, the great-grandmother, the grandparents. All you’ve got is you. Both your parents are locked up and your family doesn’t have the best reputation.

  “I want access to those kids,” I say through clenched teeth. “Custody if it’s possible. I don’t care how hard it is, if we can go to trial, then I want to do it.”

  Pete nods. “It’s not all bad. You did take custody of your brother back in ’84. The judge will like that. My suggestion is to make nice with the one family member you are on good terms with. What’s her name?” He picks up the notepad again and flips the page. “Sheila. If you can get her on your side, to maybe even
agree to help you, the judge would be sold. I’d have to sit down and talk with her, get an idea of where her head is at, but the fact that you’re the father’s brother and she’s the mother’s sister will look great in court.”

  “Okay,” I say. “I can do that.” I don’t exactly know how, but I can definitely try. “But just give me some time to warm her up to the idea before you talk to her.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Pete leans back in his chair again, stroking his chin. “There’s also the matter of my retainer. Seeing as you don’t have an actual job right now—“

  “I’ll sell my fucking guitar if I have to. Just make it happen, Pete. All right?”

  “Done.”

  I sigh, relief coursing through me. This is probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but the funny thing is, it doesn’t even scare me. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sheila

  I sink into the back seat of the bus and gaze out the window. I suddenly feel like a little kid again, like I’m acting out instead of dealing with the consequences of my bad decisions. I shouldn’t have smoked in the house. I probably shouldn’t have even come back. I wasn’t ready. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.

  I grip the purple envelope. It’s folded in two places now, into a small square that fits in the palm of my hand. Like the smaller it gets the more insignificant it is. Like I can some how make it and the contents that are sure to change my life disappear. Part of me wishes that if it does, so will my twisted reality.

  Grow the devil up. Grandma’s face, her words, my reaction have been haunting me all morning.

  I shouldn’t have run out like that. But I couldn’t stay. The things she said about my sister, the way she looked at me. I couldn’t take it. And I’ve done it again. Left home in a fury of emotions.

  A year and half ago, I had an excuse. I was seventeen, betrayed by my sister, desperate to live my dream. But things are different now. Aren’t they? Aren’t I?

  I push the envelope to the bottom of my backpack and zip it closed before hugging it to my chest and leaning my head up against the window.

  Part of what Grandma said, I still can’t shake.

  You’re being very immature. Forget that I just lost my sister, my only sibling and best friend. My life has been turned on its axis and I’m expected to be poised and in control. I’m expected to make the most important decision of my life. Just like that.

  I am grown up. I’m nineteen. For the past eighteen months, I’ve made my own decisions, my own money. I’ve made my own mistakes too, but isn’t that what adults do? I created an entirely new life without them and I’m pretty proud of myself. But I’m also only nineteen. How can anyone expect me to react anyway else? How can they expect me to pull it all together in just a few months? I can’t.

  It isn’t until my jaw starts to ache that I realize my teeth are clenched. And in the seconds that follow I literally have to fight the urge to scream. I grip my backpack tighter and squeeze my eyes shut. A fat tear rolls down my cheek but it isn’t followed by another. My hands are shaking, my stomach twisting in a familiar way that has me more confused than ever. Because I’m pissed off. At everyone. Grandma for being a nosey bitch, Mom and Dad for standing there like idiots and not bothering to stand up for me or Shannon. It sickens me that Dave keeps sticking his nose in too. Where does he get off? He’s not even a part of the family. I don’t care what kind of agreement he and Shannon had. None of this is any of his business. And Shannon. How could she leave me here all by myself? Who the hell dies from food poisoning? What person in their right mind expects their nineteen-year-old sister to adopt their goddamn kids? She’s crazier than the rest of them. Crazy. And gone.

  I hug myself and sink further into the seat, propping my knees up in front of me. I hate them all so much right now. I hate my life. I hate the god my parents taught me about. Because if he really existed. If he really cared, why would he do this? Why would he take everything away from me in one shot? My life. My sanity. My sister. I shouldn’t have gone back there. I was fine where I was. With Roscoe. In our own little world, shutting out all this crap.

  I take a deep breath through my nose desperate to calm my racing heart. I’m exhausted having only dozed in and out of consciousness at the bus station. All I need is an hour. Sixty minutes of real sleep and a chance to see my sister again. This time I’ll just tell her. I can’t. I won’t. She’ll have to find someone else. I just hope she’ll understand.

  When Cole pulls into the parking lot later that morning, I quickly jump into the car, throwing my stuff in the back seat.

  “Hey.”

  “How’s it going?” he asks, with a tight smile.

  “No lectures, okay?”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

  I glance over at him, squinting as I catch a glimpse of a bubbling chuckle.

  “What, Cole?”

  “You really hitched a ride all the way to Cheney? Just to catch a bus? So that you could ride all the way to Craigmont, then call me to come pick you up.”

  I cross my arms. “Not now,” I say. “I’m tired. I couldn’t sleep at the stupid station and the bus ride in was hell. Just take me home.”

  “You know you could have just called me in the first place, right? I mean, it wouldn’t have taken me half the time it took you to—”

  “It was late. Like four in the morning.”

  “Would’ve been safer.”

  “I know Roger Grant. I’ve known him since I was a baby. He is safe. If he was going that way I would’ve have asked him to take me. But he works in Cheney. It was the best I could do.”

  “You could have called.”

  “You wanted me to call at four in the morning?”

  Cole sighs. “Forget it. What happened?”

  I clear my throat. “Nothing. It just didn’t work out.”

  “What happened, Sheila? I’m not moving this car until you tell me. And don’t think you can out do me either. I’ll drive straight back to Palouse if you even try.”

  I scowl at him, but I know he’s serious so I say, “Grandma.” That oughta shut him up.

  He laughs. “You ran away from your grandmother?”

  “You know how she is.”

  “What’d you do?”

  “What makes you think I did something?”

  He casts me a knowing look.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” I say with a shrug. “They put me in my old room. How was I supposed to sleep in that place…with all the memories? Dave didn’t say anything about Grandma being there until last minute. So she got the guest room and I ended up sleeping next to Shannon’s old bed. I got up in the middle of the night and…I had this stash downstairs in the basement.”

  Cole lets out a low whistle. “Grandma Carlson caught you smoking the chronic. Damn girl, what the hell were you thinking?”

  “I was thinking I needed to relax! That I’ve got a million decisions to make and at this point in my life I really don’t want to make them.”

  “Okay.” He rests a hand on my shoulder. “Despite the fact that I’m a cop and should book criminals like you, I’m going to ignore the fact that you were doing drugs.”

  I roll my eyes. “It was weed, Cole.”

  “Hey a drug is a drug, but I understand. I do. If anyone gets it it’s me. I mean Coco was young when Mom died, but I remember everything. I know what you’re going through.”

  I wipe a stray tear away. “Things are so screwed up. I’m so fucking pissed off right now I want to punch something.”

  “I know, Sheila. But it’ll get better. I promise.”

  “When did it get better for you?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know really. I just woke up one day and everything was okay. There was still a piece of me missing but I could, all of a sudden, function again.”

  “But how?”

  “I had people to support me, make sure I was okay.”

  “Like your dad?”

&nbs
p; Cole chuckles. “Not at first. He was more of a mess than I was, until Grandma threatened to take Coco and me to Sagle if he didn’t snap out of it.” He swipes his fingers across his brow. “Thank god he did.”

  I laugh. “I can’t imagine Coco growing up in Sagle.”

  “She dodged a bullet, that one.” He smiles. “No, I had a friend who wouldn’t let me just sit around and be sad. Who made me get up and face my crappy life. Everyone should have a friend like that.”

  “I have Coco,” I say.

  “A best friend who gives you hugs and feeds you rainbows isn’t exactly going to do the trick. I’m not saying she’s wrong. I’m just saying she’s doing what everyone else is and so far it hasn’t helped.”

  I lean my head back in the seat and close my eyes. “I think the only person who could snap me out of anything is the person that put me here in the first place. The person god snatched away from me.”

  Cole takes my hand. “You can’t think like that. Shannon may have been your person, once upon a time, but she isn’t anymore and you’re going to have to find a way to let that go.”

  “Right now,” I reply, turning to look at him. “All I want to do is sleep. And dream.”

  He raises an eyebrow, but I don’t bother to clarify. I simply close my eyes again, finding myself drifting off seconds after he pulls out onto he road.

  One hour and fifteen minutes later of real sleep, and still no word from Shannon. I know I shouldn’t think too much about it, but I can’t help how empty I suddenly feel. The hollow in my stomach and the piercing in my chest is reminiscent of the seconds before a breakdown. Those scattered moments when I come to terms with the fact that she’s really gone. That I’ll actually never talk to her again. I hate those moments. They sneak up out of nowhere and take over my conscious. I squeeze my eyes shut and sit up straight in the bed.