I pressed the back button, searching for anything else.
I stopped, an icy shiver making the hairs on my back stand on end when I read the headline.
Gregory Family Murders—One Survivor.
Swallowing down the sudden lump in my throat, I clicked on it.
I was immediately assaulted with a picture of a family—Caelan’s family.
They looked so happy. The guy in the picture, a teenage Caelan, looked nothing like the man I knew. His smile was genuine and he had his arm wrapped around a girl that had to be his sister they looked so much alike. With a gasp, I realized she was the girl in many of his paintings.
I forced my eyes away from him and his sister to look at his parents. They looked kind and so in love. His mother looked like she could have been a movie star with blonde hair that matched her children’s. Caelan had the exact shade of blue eyes that she had. His father had light brown hair and a proud narrow nose that he’d given his son, along with the same jaw and small dimple in their chin.
I couldn’t help but look back at his sister. Her golden hair was long, falling over her shoulders. Her smile was big and her blue eyes sparkled with happiness and excitement.
It killed me looking at Caelan’s image and noting the differences in the man I knew now.
His eyes were cloudy and he certainly didn’t smile like that—so carefree and content. His hair hung limply in his eyes now, not styled back like in the picture. Even his skin tone was different now. While in the picture he glowed with a tan like he’d recently been to the beach, he was now so pale that he resembled a vampire…he kind of acted like one too.
The guy I saw staring back at me from the computer screen didn’t seem anything like the one I knew.
While old Caelan glowed with warmth and light, new Caelan was dull and gloomy.
Scrolling past the picture, I began to read the article, and was quickly overcome with horror.
Eighteen-year-old Caelan Gregory walked in on what first appeared to be a home invasion only to discover his family murdered. Despite the fact that he was found covered in blood, he was unharmed and has been removed from the suspect list. Marcia, Paul, and Cayla Gregory all sustained multiple stab wounds.
I paused in my reading, stunned to have stumbled across the name I had been searching for.
Cayla Gregory.
His sister.
The vibrant, joyful, smiling girl in the photograph had had her life cut tragically short in such a gruesome way. No wonder he cried her name in his sleep and painted her picture repeatedly.
Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to continue.
Police are not releasing further details at this time while the perpetrator is still at large. If you have any information concerning the Gregory murders, please contact the police immediately.
At the bottom of the page there was an asterisk and I squinted to read the small font.
*At this time the Gregory murders still remain unsolved
It was dated only six months ago.
I pushed away from my computer and went running for the bathroom. I collapsed on my knees, heaving over the toilet bowl. But nothing came up.
No wonder Caelan acted the way he did. I knew there had to be a reason, but this was beyond anything I had imagined. This was…there were no words.
I couldn’t imagine losing your family in such a grisly way.
I mean, I had lost my real family in a fire, but I’d been a baby. I hadn’t known them. To come home and find your family like that…it had to haunt him. How could it not?
I suddenly, desperately, needed air.
I headed for the door that led to the roof, not wanting to stand on the street and have to face anyone. I couldn’t handle it right now. I needed to be alone to breathe in fresh air and gather my thoughts.
When I stepped onto the roof I stopped in my tracks.
“Not now,” I muttered, recognizing Caelan’s familiar shape.
The door slammed closed behind me signaling that it was too late to turn tail and run.
His head turned in my direction as I took a few more steps closer.
A gasp escaped me as my eyes zoned in on him.
“What are you doing?” I asked him fearfully as I watched him walk the side of the roof like a balance beam.
“Testing death,” he answered simply, “daring it to take me…to sweep me away.” He purposely leaned further over the side where he could fall to the street below.
“Don’t do that!” I cried, running towards him. I reached out to stop him, to do something.
He looked down at me and stopped moving, but still stood on the ledge.
“Don’t worry, I won’t jump. I never do,” he laughed humorlessly. His eyes were vibrant and there was no slur to his words. For once, he wasn’t drunk or high on Lord knows what. “Staying alive is the punishment. Death is the reward.”
“What do you mean?”
“When you’re alive,” he spread his arms wide, and where he stood with the sunset behind him it made it look like he had wings, “you feel. Feelings are a painful son of a bitch. But death, that’s easy. It’s peaceful. It takes away your pain and reunites you with the ones you love.” He looked up towards the sky, his lips lifting in a small smile. Knowing about his family, I couldn’t help but wonder if he was imagining their faces.
“But isn’t life worth fighting for?” I responded, squinting from the brilliance of the sunset.
“Life is about surviving,” he crouched down, still on that damn ledge. I was so afraid that at any moment he would lose his balance and fall three stories below.
“You call what you’re doing surviving? I call it being a coward!” I stomped my foot, my fists clenching in frustration.
“You have no fucking idea what I’ve been through,” he growled and spittle flew from between his lips. “What I saw…” His voice dropped below a whisper. “I have to numb myself so that I don’t remember.”
“What happened to your family, it was awful Caelan, but they wouldn’t want you to have turned into this,” I waved my hand at him.
His eyes threatened to pop out of his head and his face turned so red I thought a blood vessel had ruptured.
“Oh shit,” I mumbled, realizing my mistake.
I wasn’t supposed to know about this.
“How do you know about my family?” He roared, jumping off the ledge and stalking towards me. I found myself backing up. “Tell me!”
I flinched from his tone.
I swallowed thickly, moisture clinging to my eyes. “I-I was curious. So, I—uh—Googled you.”
“Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘Curiosity killed the cat?’” he pushed me roughly so that my back was against the wall beside the doorway leading to the roof. The brick stung my hands where they’d scraped against the rough surface but I refused to show any sign of pain or emotion. “You had no right to research me like I’m some fucking science experiment. I know what I am, and I know why I’m this way, I don’t need you to save me. I’m beyond saving, Sutton,” he pointed a finger as he pulled himself away from me. Shaking all over, his jaw clenched tightly as he growled, “Stay away from me.”
I turned my head, watching as he roughly swung the door open, and descended down the stairwell.
I knew after that experience I should have finally felt afraid of him, but I didn’t.
If anything, I was only more determined to know him.
I wanted to see him smile again like he had in those photos—and I wanted those smiles to be directed at me.
⌘⌘⌘
Caelan
The door slammed closed behind me and I paced the short length of the apartment. My fingers pulled harshly at the strands of my hair, yanking to the point that I winced in pain.
I had seriously lost my cool and hadn’t been in control of myself.
If I hadn’t left…I feared what I may have done to Sutton.
I hadn’t been prepared for her to know about my family.
Nobody else here
seemed to know—or if they did, they didn’t talk about it. My family’s murders had been a big thing in this area, but it didn’t take long for people to move on, absolving themselves of their fascination, and eventually forgetting all together about the murders.
The fact that she knew scared and exhilarated me all at the same time. It was a strange feeling—like the jitters you get with fear and a dash of adrenaline.
Her knowing what happened meant I didn’t have to hide—I didn’t have to push her away.
I had feared getting too close to someone for so long, because I wasn’t prepared to have to tell them about my family. Besides, my obvious addictions kept women from wanting anything more than a one-night stand.
Sutton had been able to overlook that from the start, I knew it.
Without either obstacle standing in the way of claiming her, what was I waiting for?
I guess I was waiting for fate to step in, tell me I was a fuck up, and I’d never deserve even a moment of happiness that the girl across the hall may bring me.
CHAPTER 8
Sutton
Rubbing my eyes, I padded across the room, making a beeline for the coffee maker. As soon as the heavenly aroma of coffee filled the air, I felt my body relax. I grabbed a coffee mug I’d recently bought at one of the stores in town that I found oddly fitting, since it declared in big bold letters that GOOGLE IS MY BEST FRIEND.
It was so true.
I hopped up on the counter as I took a careful sip of the hot liquid. I burned my tongue in the process, but I was so desperate for the caffeine rush that I barely noticed.
As I came awake completely, I noticed a piece of paper had been shoved under my door. I tilted my head, the slip instantly piquing my interest—but not enough that I was ready to abandon my spot and the coffee in my hand.
Once all the coffee was gone, I jumped down and grabbed up the paper.
Before I turned it over, I questioned whether or not it was from Caelan.
It wasn’t.
It was an invitation to Cyrus’ party Friday night. I had to laugh at the poor attempt he’d done of calligraphy on the piece of notebook paper. It looked more like chicken scratch with swirls tossed in for good measure.
You are cordially invited to
a party thrown by the out-of-this-world amazing
Cyrus Mellark.
This Friday (tomorrow, in case you didn’t know)
Be there.
Because I said so.
I shook my head, laughing under my breath.
The fact that he’d invited me to one of his parties after I’d requested him to turn down the music at the last one was laughable.
What was even more hysterical was the fact that I was actually considering going just to know what the fuss was about.
Daphne said they got pretty wild, and wild was just what I needed right now. I needed to spend at least one night without thinking about the C word.
I wouldn’t let anything stupid happen at this party. I’d relax and hang out with Daphne—because I was so dragging her ass there, no way was I going by myself—dance a little or a lot, and drink as much as I wanted. It had been a long time since I’d been to a party like this one promised to be. Yeah, I was still young, but my ex-boyfriend was a stick in the mud who never wanted to go out. I wondered if he went out with my former best friend.
Ugh.
Thinking about him was not good. It only served to make me angry.
And the person I should be angry with was Caelan, but I didn’t feel that way. I had bruises on my arms where his fingers had pressed into the skin and there were scrapes along my elbows from the brick. He’d been rough and borderline violent, and yet I wasn’t cowering. In the moment I had felt a brief flicker of fear but it hadn’t lasted long. I knew Caelan could be dangerous if provoked, but I didn’t plan on stopping.
This was only just beginning.
⌘⌘⌘
I found myself knocking on the door to Frankie and Daphne’s apartment.
This was a fashion emergency and I needed Daphne’s help…like now.
A beaming Frankie opened the door. Based on his smile, I assumed Jen wasn’t around and he didn’t need to pretend to hate my guts.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He chuckled, sweeping his red hair out of his eyes with long fingers.
“I need your sister’s help,” I stated, trying to peer around him in the hopes of spotting Daphne.
“Why would anyone ever need Daphne’s help?” He scoffed. “I’m sure I can help you with whatever it is.”
I rolled my eyes. Guys could be so dumb sometimes…okay, all the time. “I don’t suppose you own a size four dress that would make me so hot that every male in a five mile radius couldn’t keep his hands off me?” I raised a brow, waiting.
His mouth gaped open and then he turned. “Daphne! Sutton needs your help!” Moving out of the way, he motioned me inside.
I’d never been invited inside Frankie’s apartment before. It was bigger than Caelan’s and mine with two bedrooms that actually had walls, a larger kitchen, and an expansive living space that boasted enough room for a dining table. Clearly I’d gotten the short end of the straw with my apartment, but I did like it.
Daphne stuck her head out of a bedroom. Spotting me, she grinned happily. She was such a carefree person. I wished I were that happy. I preferred to wallow in self-pity and coffee—not ice cream.
“Hey!”
“Hi,” I waved awkwardly. Yes, I was twenty-two years old and still, quite possibly, the most awkward human being on the planet. “I came by, because I need a dress for the party. All I have is the one I wore when we went out before.”
“I have plenty of dresses. I’m sure you’ll like something,” she stepped forward and grabbed my hand so she could drag me into her bedroom, since I wasn’t moving on my own.
“Do you have anything that says, I’m-not-really-a-slut-but-you-can-treat-me-like-one-tonight?”
Her eyes widened as she paused with the door halfway closed. “Uh…and who are you wanting to wear this dress for?”
“No one in particular,” I shrugged, looking around her room.
Her bed was against the exposed brick wall and the rest of the walls were painted hot pink. Her furniture was all various flee market pieces that had been painted bright colors. A neon green dresser caught my eye, as well as the gaudy gold mirror above it.
“Yeah right,” she snorted, finally succeeding in closing the door to block her nosy brother.
“Seriously, I just want to look hot for the night,” I mumbled, my eyes still perusing her bedroom. A crazy looking chandelier hung above the space. It looked like it had vines or something.
“And this has nothing to do with Caelan?” She gave me a look that said she was not about to be played a fool.
“Why would it?” I countered. “Caelan doesn’t even come to Cyrus’ parties.”
She continued to stare at me, like she was searching for some hidden meaning behind my eyes and facial expression. I had news for her, I had no ulterior motive. I just wanted to look hot and have some fun. It was the only reason I had agreed to go to this stupid party to begin with. I was sick of being stuck in my apartment with Brutus. I did not want to be the crazy cat lady at my age. Maybe when I was seventy. Or eighty. Or never.
Finally, I sighed, exasperated with her stare down. “Come on, Daphne, you’re a girl! Haven’t you ever had one of those days where you just need to feel feminine and wanted? I need to feel sexy,” I pleaded with her to understand. “Look at me,” I pointed to my leggings and loose tank top. “I’m a mess.”
Her face softened and her eyes held a twinkle of understanding. “You’re not a mess.”
“Trust me, I am,” I muttered, crinkling my nose in displeasure. She hadn’t caught the hidden meaning in my words. People only saw what was on the surface. As long as you looked normal, they didn’t assume you had any problems. I’d become a master at blending in. “I’m quite a failure actually.
Who just abandons their whole life?” My voice cracked and moisture filled my eyes.
Daphne tilted her head, studying me critically. “Are you okay, Sutton? Do you need to talk about it?”
I was so far past okay that I wasn’t sure I could ever find my way back. I wasn’t ready to open up completely about my life before here. I had done everything I could to bury those memories. This was my fresh start and I wasn’t going to ruin that.
“No,” I shook my head, forcing a pleasant looking smile.
“Okay,” Daphne shrugged, skipping towards her closet.
I let out a relieved breath that she wasn’t going to press me. If she had, I’d probably have run out of here like a crazy person and refused to ever speak to her again. I was nice like that.
Daphne pushed aside the shimmery purple beads that served as the barrier between her bedroom and closet, and started skimming the rack for an appropriate dress.
“What about this one?” She held out a glittery hot pink dress.
I tried to tamp down my gag reflex. “No way. I want sexy-sophisticated-slut, not I’m-pretending-to-be-a-hooker-bend-me-over-this-table-and-take-me-now.”
She rolled her eyes and replaced the dress back in its proper space. “You’re so weird. This?” She held a dress in front of her body for my inspection.
It was black on top with triangle cutouts that would show a bit of skin, but not too much, and the collar was low enough to show some cleavage without me having to worry about the lady berries springing forth into the world. The skirt part was attached to the top and it was white, black, and gold in an Aztec design.
Grinning slowly, I nodded, and reached out with grabby hands. “Gimme!”
With a shake of her head, she tossed it at me.
I caught it easily, surprised by the softness of the fabric.
“By the way,” she turned around with a mischievous smile, “you borrow my dress, then I get to do your hair and makeup. No way are you leaving here looking half-done.” She motioned to my face, which was currently makeup free, and the knot of hair on my head.
“Fine,” I agreed. I wasn’t going to complain about getting pampered.
“Yay!” She clapped her hands together, doing a strange little happy dance, where she basically stood on her tiptoes and jogged in place. “Girls day!” Looking me over, she said, “You need a shower.”
Beauty in the Ashes Page 8
