by Yvonne Heidt
Jordan opened the nightstand and found her other stash. “Is there more?”
“Please,” Shade said. “Please don’t.” She watched helplessly as Jordan went back into the bathroom to flush this batch. “Fuck you.”
“Hey,” Kat said and knelt in front of her. “We’re going to help you through this, okay? You don’t have to go through this alone.”
“I’ve always been fucking alone.”
“That’s a lie,” Jordan snapped, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom, looking every inch the cop she used to be.
Shade glared at her, thinking she was going to kick her ass or kill her. As soon as she was able to.
“Get mad!” Jordan continued. “It’s better than this pathetic whining. I really thought you had more fight in you.”
“Can we have a little compassion here?” Kat asked. “She’s our friend. She deserves some.”
“Don’t you think Raven deserves our compassion? She’s at home with a broken heart, and we find this asshole all fucked up and out of it in la-la land? Do you think that Raven deserved that?”
“Of course not,” Kat said. “But we’re still not here to attack Shade.”
Shade watched the two of them argue and felt strangely detached. She had sent Raven away, had accomplished what she set out to do. Then she tried to kill the pain of what she’d done to both Raven and herself. It was business as usual, really. Why the need for good cop, bad cop?
When Kat got up, and she and Jordan began shouting at one another, she knew she had to stop. Her life was so out of control. And she didn’t know how to fix the chaos she’d created. Her answer for everything had always been more. More drugs, more sex, more anything, please, to drown her self-hatred.
More had just run out. And at this point, more would never be enough again.
The thought of Raven crying broke Shade’s heart, and it reached into the hard knot of anger and resentment she felt toward the world.
She tried to convince herself it wasn’t all her fault because she’d warned Raven not to fall in love with her. She’d reacted from a place of fear, because when she’d seen her that morning in the kitchen, Shade had discovered she absolutely loved her too. She was terrified, and she had absolutely no idea what to do next. Her argument was weak, and it didn’t hold any value any more. Shade was sick of justifying herself. She was sick, period.
Shade had never asked anyone for help, ever.
But I did. Lacey’s voice whispered in her heart, the same place she’d tucked her into last night. The truth hit Shade hard, and she knew this was another moment of choice. She took a deep breath. “As much as I don’t want to admit it, Jordan is right, I’m an asshole, and I need…” The word stuck in her throat, and she gestured instead.
“Say it out loud,” Jordan said. “So I can be sure I heard it.”
“Help. I need help. Are you happy now?” Shade wished she had something handy to throw at her.
The last thing Shade expected was for Jordan to walk over and sit next to her on the bed. She bumped her shoulder and sighed. “That’s the first step.”
“I want to call Raven,” Shade said. “I want to apologize to her.”
“Not right now,” Kat said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Let her be for a while.”
Jordan bumped her again. “Sunny, Aura, and Tiffany are going to take care of her.”
“So you had this planned already?” She felt stripped naked, but strangely, now that the cards were tumbling down, she also felt relieved everything was out in the open.
“Aura had a vision,” Jordan said. “And she told me to tell you, you weren’t fooling anybody.”
Shade didn’t know if she’d ever felt so embarrassed. “Of course she did.”
Jordan grinned at her in that evil way again. “I convinced them they were all in denial.”
“Yay you.” Shade glared at her, but her heart wasn’t really in it.
Kat sat on the bed on her other side. “We have an intake for a treatment center in Eastern Washington.”
Jesus, she had enough of her own crap. She would never be able to sit in a room full of people full of pain similar to hers. It would suffocate her before she could get better. “Oh hell no, I can do it here.” Shade’s stomach twisted again as she told another lie, and she instantly backed down. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“Sure you can,” Jordan said. “We’re going to help you.”
“You don’t understand.” Shade hated the whine in her voice.
“I understand more than you think I do. My mother was an addict. And I lost her to drugs when I was too young to understand. I spent years working the streets, watching people kill themselves on this shit. Doesn’t matter which drug it is, it all kills you in the end.”
“You’re better than this, Shade,” Kat added.
And therein, thought Shade, lay the major problem. She didn’t know if she was better.
Or even if she could be.
Chapter Fifteen
Four months later…
Shade pulled in the driveway and stared at her front door. She hadn’t been home since Jordan and Kat hauled her off to that extended-stay treatment facility. There, with professional help, she used her visiting days to work through other things with Aura, who made the eight-hour each way trip, once a month. There were some things Shade just couldn’t share with the recovery team—not if she wanted to stay out of a psych ward, anyway.
Then, when she was done there, she spent another month in Kat’s Seattle condo and tried to figure out where she wanted to go from there, and more importantly, continued to discover just who she was—without drugs.
She attended meetings every day, and told her story until she was blue in the face. At least the ones she could tell. And she missed Raven every day.
Every goddamn day.
The treatment center she’d gone to was too far for a casual Saturday drive, and Shade’s only connection to home was Aura. She found she could stand without her sisters. That was a hard lesson, because she hadn’t realized that the whole time she was feeling tough, and thought she was protecting Sunny and Tiffany—it was the other way around. They protected and enabled her.
That was horrible to swallow. And oh so humbling.
Kat and Tiffany came to see her in Seattle, along with Sunny and Jordan. Shade had found she enjoyed rediscovering who they were now, today, without all the anger and darkness she had always surrounded herself with. She also respected their boundaries when they refused to talk about Raven.
It was part of Shade’s recovery. She owned years of other fuck-ups she had to deal with first, before she could even contemplate seeing Raven. She needed to be whole first, without baggage, or at least well on her way.
Tiffany, bless her heart, let it slip one day that Raven didn’t work at SOS anymore. Shortly after Shade went into treatment, she’d gone back to her family’s store. None of them questioned her decision. They all understood.
Shade had a close call with a relapse only two weeks ago. Jordan called to tell her the police had finally found Beenie. Well, her body anyway. She’d overdosed after writing a confession, and a heartbreaking P.S. at the bottom begging Shade to forgive her. She said she’d felt compelled to do the things she’d done, but she couldn’t understand why. Only the SOS team could fully understand the compulsion, and Shade felt sorry for the woman who had very nearly killed her.
Now that she was clean, Shade shouldered her part in Beenie’s death. She wished her spirit would have come to her. Shade would have sent her straight to the light. The entire sequence of events over this last year, including being in a coma, led to her life being irrevocably changed.
Those dark times led her to hope. Not the fleeting, whispering traces she’d experienced previously, but a full, hands-on experience that allowed her spirit to fly.
She’d bought another car, a little red sporty number. She’d told Jordan to fuck off when she said Shade was experiencing an early mid-life crisis,
but all of their bickering was good-natured these days.
The purchase left her bank account much lower, and she planned on going back to work. There were some clients she would have to let go, and she was okay with that. Clients with darker, less than noble needs. She had a clearer sense of right and wrong, and while she fucked up in the past, she didn’t have to repeat the pattern.
Spirits regularly showed up at meetings. And while that freaked her out in the beginning, she now realized it was her purpose to help the still suffering addicts, dead or alive. She took the time to gather them afterward, and counsel them. Most of them believed they couldn’t cross over because of things they’d done during their lifetimes. The ones who refused to leave, although few, were the spirits who chose to stay to cause trouble. Those with harmful energy, she dismissed and banned—until they were ready for help.
All that remained to be seen about her willingness to stay drug free was her ability to be in Bremerton, and be in her house. On her own.
Might as well get it over with, she thought. Shade walked up to the door, with barely a hitch in her stride left over from her accident. Her limp had gone away right after she arrived in the facility. Another clue that she was on the right journey, as Angel had predicted.
She unlocked the deadbolt and stood on the threshold.
No one knew she was coming home today. It wasn’t as if she wanted to announce it, or have a welcome home party. Shade took a deep breath and walked into her house, where most of her ghosts still lived. Where she’d been so casually cruel to so many, both living and dead.
Would she be able to stay here? She wasn’t sure yet. She took another hesitant step into the entry, and a chill raced down her spine when she saw the items. Shade took slow steps over to her chair.
A black guitar case sat on her recliner along with a small package. Shade ran her finger along the ribbon, then held the present close to her face.
Oh God, it smelled like her.
Raw emotion hit her senses, and she stopped to let it flow all the way through. It hurt, yes. But hey—the only way out was through. She finally understood what that sentence really meant.
She smiled sadly, moved the case, and sat down. Shade carefully unwrapped the paper to save it, not caring that the old Shade would have thought it a wussy thing to do. There was no note attached, but she didn’t need one.
Raven’s energy was all over it. She’d made her a bracelet of wrapped leather and beaded cords, surrounding a small charm that said, Believe.
Shade put it on and wanted to cry. She opened the guitar case, and did.
*
Raven was in the back office, making notes on her vendor charts, when she heard an internal bell ring.
Shade was back in Bremerton, and her presence tripped the spell Raven had placed in the entry hall of Shade’s place. It wasn’t the first time it had gone off, but Raven had no problem identifying whose energy passed over it. The time she’d spent at SOS created permanent signatures for all the women. The trauma they’d survived together, the intensity of emotion, were all imprinted in Raven’s mind.
She’d had a dream Shade was coming home three nights ago. She’d had time to pick up the guitar, and the Believe bracelet had been made nearly a month ago.
Into both gifts, she poured pure, positive energy, and folded in some healing intentions. While she was at it, she made an effort to leave behind her youthful yearning for Shade, along with her wish that things could have ended differently.
When she’d first entered the house, Raven’s heart felt echoes of her pain. It was far more intense than she thought it would be. She thought she’d buried it deeper. But like something living that sinks in the water, it rose back to the surface after the struggle, and stared at her with dead eyes. She left the case on Shade’s recliner, with the wrapped gift next to it, and quickly left the house.
She’d mourned deeply for Shade, and experienced the death of her own idealistic expectations. But gradually, she was able to discern a different point of view of their time together.
And it wasn’t all Shade’s fault.
Raven had craved her darkness, was insanely attracted to her unavailability, charged in to save her, and then expected her to change.
Shade hadn’t written, hadn’t called, hadn’t made any effort to contact her at all, and Raven knew she’d been living in Seattle for weeks. That information uncovered the hope she thought she’d given up.
And now, the ringing bell revealed much more. Wave after wave of emotion hit her until she felt dizzy from the onslaught. She reached for the phone and then quickly drew her hand back.
“Mija?”
Of course, her mother would feel it too, and come to check on her. “I’m good, Mama.”
“I just wanted you to know I’m here if you want to talk.”
“Gracias.” Raven felt none of the resentment she used to when her mother interfered. Her mother had been her rock when she fell apart. She remained a steady, soothing force available to her when she reached for it. And when Raven was ready to hear them, her mother had the words to help her through to the other side.
Her mother never judged Shade, or said I told you so.
It was a rite of passage between a mother and an adult daughter, one that took Raven into another transition of maturity, and attempted to leave her devastating crush behind.
She’d seen it clearly the day she chose to leave, when she’d had enough. A premonition hit that she’d always live on the dark side with Shade, and enable her to keep herself there. As much as Raven wanted to stay, it wouldn’t have been healthy for Shade, and it would have been miserable for her.
In principal, she believed individuals entered someone’s life, and then left after you learned whatever lesson was needed in order to grow spiritually.
It sounded good in theory, but right this moment, she felt as if she stepped back in time, and the wound was fresh again. Raven knew it diminished her personal authority to recall only the pain. She tried to remember to forgive Shade, and herself, for the soul experience, and bring her power back, but she wasn’t having much success.
She ordered herself to get it together and turned her back to the phone. As soon as she did, her hand itched again, and she ran out of the office.
Her mother could probably use some help in the front during the afternoon rush. It would be a good distraction. She was right. People were crowding the aisles, and the line to check out was ten deep. Raven took over the register while her mother answered customers’ questions and directed them to the correct shelves.
After she finished her last transaction two hours later, she was relieved to find there was no one else waiting. But before she could take a deep breath, her cousin Lyric walked in and headed straight for her.
Raven waved and leaned on the counter.
“What’s wrong with you?” Lyric asked.
“Nothing.” Everything. “Why?”
“Because I know your face,” Lyric said.
Raven sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m fine.”
Lyric shrugged. Raven loved that about her. Lyric never pushed, but it was usually because she wanted to talk about herself. It was part of her charm.
“Well, then. Get your stuff and let’s go get ready.”
“To go where?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot. You promised me.”
“You’re such a drama queen,” Raven said. But she had forgotten. She’d promised Lyric she’d go on a double date. “Was that tonight?”
Lyric rolled her eyes at Raven. “You know it’s the only way I could get a date with Caroline while she’s in town. Her college friend joined her at the last minute, and you said you’d go with us and keep her company.”
Caroline was a traveling bank manager who came into the Bremerton branch every few months. She was blond, skinny, and Raven was sure, in the end, she was going to break Lyric’s heart. It wasn’t anything Caroline had done in the past. She was sweet enough. So maybe Raven
was projecting her own experience onto Lyric’s life.
Still, she couldn’t think of anything she wanted to do less than spend an evening with two giggling former college roommates while Lyric fawned over Caroline.
And God, she was being unfair. She had promised her, and was only feeling this way because of—that person she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.
“Let me get my things,” Raven said and tried not to feel like an ass when Lyric’s face lit up with gratitude.
Raven retrieved her coat and bag, and then took a moment to disarm the bell in her mind. Shade was home safe. That was what she’d wanted to know, and now she did. She tried to be positive and told herself she was going to have a good time.
It didn’t work.
*
Shade kept her promise and checked in when she arrived. Her sponsor, Wendy, stayed on the phone with her while she checked any former stash locations Jordan might have missed.
When she looked in the last probable spot and found nothing, she chuckled. Jordan may not be a cop anymore, but she didn’t miss a detail. Shade assured Wendy that all spaces were accounted for, and that she would go to a local twelve-step meeting.
After she disconnected the call, Shade wandered the rooms aimlessly, feeling weird and disconnected. The times she remembered as fun now seemed desperate, and she hated to say it, but quite a few of them were depraved as well. She shuddered inwardly and reminded herself that she, as a person, was not her past. The things she’d done did not define her.
There weren’t many happy memories here, and until Raven came along, Shade wasn’t even sure the house was ever cleaned thoroughly, and she’d lived there for eight years.
Raven’s touch was still everywhere. Shade wondered why she hadn’t retrieved her crystals from around the house when she dropped off those amazing gifts.
The guest bathroom still smelled of her, feminine and bold at the same time.
Shade missed her, and had thought of her every day while she was gone. At night, she dreamed of her and wrapped herself in Raven’s scented hair.
