“So ditch it. I’m thinking of getting a one bedroom over on Palm Court. You can live with me.”
“But I don’t have a job, or a car—nothing.”
Maddie laughed. “So get off your ass and get one.” She passed Sienna a bottle. “Hard cider, it’ll make you feel better.”
“Any good?” she asked. “And I can’t get a job. It’s not allowed. Another damn rule.” She took a sip, the crisp taste rushing over her tongue. How many of these would she need before she’d finally relax? She took another sip, and then a swig. Maddie continued to plan their great escape into their own apartment, but Sienna paid little attention. She’d thought the night would be fun, but now, everything was bugging her. She was only there because Tony wanted to go. She’d move in with him in a heartbeat if he asked. He was her escape, the dark knight of her daydreams, ready to spirit her away at a moment’s notice. She trusted him, and that was rare for her. Along with her mother’s endless rules had also come seemingly endless talks on how you couldn’t trust anyone but the two of them. Leaving Maddie still talking, Sienna stood and walked into the smoke-filled apartment, where a group of guys sat on a couch, taking turns with a three-foot-long bong. She wrinkled her nose. As much as she liked to rile up her mother, drugs weren’t her thing. Thankfully, Tony wasn’t among them. She approached Jerry, one of his friends. His eyes were so bloodshot she had no idea if he could even see straight. “Have you seen Tony tonight?”
He ducked his head before answering. “Dunno.”
“Come on Jerry, where is he?”
“I don’t know!” He fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ask him.”
Sienna rolled her eyes, giving up. “I’ll do that, Asshole. As soon as I find him,” she muttered under her breath as she searched through the adjoining rooms. The bathroom was empty—and completely disgusting—as was the kitchen. She did not want to know what had gone down in either of those. It was when she opened the bedroom door that she stopped short. Her mouth fell open and she jerked back. “Motherfucker!” She turned and ran.
“Sienna. It’s not what you think!” Tony cried, tripping over his pants as he chased after her.
Sure. She’d just imagined seeing him half naked, standing behind a redhead on her hands and knees, pounding into her. Fucker hadn’t even bothered to take off his shirt. She was halfway down the stairs, vision blurred, when she crashed into Maddie.
Stupid fucking tears.
“Sienna, what’s wrong?” Maddie looked past her. “Is that Tony up there?”
She pushed past Maddie, finally able to breathe again back in the cool air of the evening. “Take me home.”
“What the hell happened?”
“Just take me home!”
“Okay, okay. You got it.” Maddie held up her hands and Sienna groaned.
“God, I’m sorry. Just . . . it’s just . . . that asshole!”
Maddie wrapped her arm around Sienna’s shoulders, guiding her to a car. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. They’re all fuckers, every last one.”
Ha! He was definitely fucking someone. God, she didn’t even know the other girl’s name. Did Tony?
“So what’d he do?” Maddie asked as she turned the key and put the car in drive, grinding the gears.
“What the fuck do you think?”
“Son of a bitch! I’m sorry, Sienna.” Maddie thumped the dash. Sienna sniffled, happy to let someone else take over angry. She was quickly moving on to grabbing an entire gallon of ice cream and sitting on the couch with a girly movie and crying her eyes out. Tony hadn’t just been a high school fling, at least he hadn’t been to her. He’d made his feelings abundantly clear about ten minutes ago. God, they’d talked about what they were going to do when the summer was over. He wasn’t going to college, either. He was going to get a job and save to buy an RV, and then they’d drive all over the country together. Sienna had never traveled anywhere before.
They drove in silence. After they’d hashed through the righteous anger at being cheated on, Sienna didn’t feel much like talking. Maddie did seem sympathetic, at least. She kept looking over at Sienna, as if she wanted to make sure she wasn’t about to do something stupid.
Sienna sighed. She might have been a complete idiot to miss all the signs that Tony was a fuckwit, but she knew where her anger belonged. It was just a shame that she couldn’t make sure Tony knew exactly how hurt she was. Her mother would be pretty upset if she got arrested.
“Will you text me in the morning?” Maddie asked, pulling up outside Sienna’s house. “Just to make sure you’re okay?”
“Sure.” Sienna climbed out and slammed the door. Maddie must have taken it as a sign to get out of there as quickly as possible, and she peeled away from the curb before Sienna had even started up the walk. The lights were still on inside the house, which meant her mother was waiting up for her, probably wanting to talk about their argument earlier. Sienna didn’t want to talk things through. She wanted to run up to her room, dive under the quilt, and stay there for the rest of her life. How was she going to face her mother after what had just happened? As much as Sienna hated to admit it, her mother had been right. Too right. She just hadn’t wanted to hear about it. She swallowed, swiping at her still-wet cheeks. Maybe her mother wasn’t just making shit up to piss her off. What else might she be right about?
She hovered on the path, checking her phone for no reason, just swiping through the screens. She couldn’t put off going inside forever. Sooner or later Laura would spot her from inside the house and step out onto the porch and then there’d be no avoiding the conversation. She could always try to go around back, but the gate was usually locked—and squealed like a pig when you tried to move it. Why hadn’t her mom ever fixed that? No, she’d just have to cross her fingers and go in through the front. It was late. Laura wasn’t usually up past midnight. She must have fallen asleep on the couch and left the lights on. It wasn’t until her feet hit the porch that Sienna realized she couldn’t hear the TV. Her feet stopped moving, then she took a step back, the boards creaking under her feet.
Nope. It was too late to come up with another plan. She may as well just go inside. Maybe she could run up to her room before her mom saw her. She walked to the door, pulling her key out of her pocket, sliding it into the lock.
The door gave way with the slightest touch.
Her mom would never just leave the front door open.
She pushed the door open the rest of the way. The house was quiet. There was no dishwasher, no air conditioning. Nothing. She crept forward, her breath racing in and out so fast it made her dizzy.
Sienna turned right and walked through the foyer into the living room. The lights were on there, the TV sitting silently with a DVD menu still on the screen. The air was hot and raw, raising goose bumps on her arms despite the heat. As she took another step into the room the air kicked in and she jumped from the sudden chill. A spot of red caught her eye, and then a streak, leading past the coffee table. A whimper escaped her throat and she stopped moving. She stood there for what seemed like forever, frozen in her living room. The thoughts crept in of their own volition, driving her feet forward in slow motion. She didn’t want to know, but she had to.
A hand came into view: pale, blue flesh. It had once been soft and beautiful; now it was hard and cold. Then an arm, covered in deep, thin cuts—Sienna jumped back—one went down to the bone. Another step further revealed gray hair. She rushed then, everything coming into view in seconds. Her mother, the woman who had taken care of her, held Sienna in her arms as a baby, lying lifeless on the floor. Dull eyes stared right at her, as if accusing her of killing her. In a way, she had. She had put that tiny hole in her mother’s forehead. She had slashed at her arms and broken her twisted fingers. A gasp escaped her, then a sob. It was all her fault. If she hadn’t argued with her again, if she hadn’t run out . . . if she’d just stayed home like her mom had wanted!
Sienna shrieked. She picked up a glass vase that had been t
oppled off the broken coffee table and hurled it at the wall. It shattered on impact and shards of glass flew across the room, covering the carpet and furniture. Something sharp stung her face and Sienna collapsed onto her knees. “Please, God, no.” Her arms wrapped around her body as she swayed back and forth, repeating the words over and over, until all she could do was whisper. Exhausted, she fell onto the ground, ignoring the tiny shards of glass piercing her skin. That was nothing.
God, she was all alone. She’d gotten her wish.
“Miss?” The voice grated on her ears.
“Fuck off,” she whispered.
“Miss, are you okay?” The static from a police radio echoed around the room. Hands slipped beneath her and strong arms lifted her to her feet. She swayed, fighting to maintain her balance.
Her mother was gone, and she’d never see her again.
Fuck. Why the hell could she have just not argued? Just once.
“Miss, what happened here tonight?”
She opened her eyes. The cop was staring at her, his forehead creased with concern.
“I don’t know.”
“When did you get home? Was someone here?”
“No.” She shook her head, stumbling, and the cop reached out to steady her. “They must have . . . it happened while I was gone. I found her when I got home.”
“Any enemies that you know of, anyone want to hurt you or your mom?”
“No.”
He frowned at her. “Any ties to any gangs?”
“No! No. She was . . . no, nothing like that.” She stepped back, narrowly missing a larger shard of glass that would have pierced her shoe.
“I need you to come out front with me, let the paramedics check you over and then take your statement.”
She swallowed. “Am I being arrested?”
“No.” His tone was sharp, but then he looked back at her and his expression softened. “We just need to know what happened here, who hurt your mom, okay?”
“Okay.” Sienna somehow found her feet and followed him outside.
3
Sienna
A burst of pain shot down Sienna’s arm when she rolled over, and she opened her eyes. The sun was pouring in through her curtains. Groaning, she reached down and rubbed at her skin. Her fingers caught on something sharp and she grasped the jagged edge and pulled.
Ouch!
She held it up, squinting in the light. A small piece of glass had been lodged in her elbow. As the sunlight glinted off the shard, the night before flooded back and she gasped, flinging the glass across the room. The one she could still feel in her foot could join it later.
That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Anger surged through her and she grabbed the first thing her hands touched and watched as her tablet followed the piece of glass, colliding with her bedroom wall and shattering. The rage left her as quickly as it had arrived and Sienna sunk back into the bed, pulling the duvet over her head. She couldn’t face the world, she didn’t deserve to, not after the way she’d left things with her mother. If she’d known those would be their final moments . . . she should have told her how much she appreciated everything, should have told her mother she loved her, for fuck’s sake!
Instead she was here, in an empty house, with no idea what she was going to do. The police had eventually left, hours later, leaving her living room littered with remnants of their investigation; a broken piece of police tape fluttering from the door, a smudge of fingerprinting dust on the mantle. The body had been cleared away after the initial investigation, but it was still there in her mind, burned into the back of her skull. It was never going to leave.
She rolled over, burrowing deeper under the covers. She’d already lost any hope of her mother’s murder being solved any time soon. After asking her a bunch of standard questions and showing her a couple of photos of people she didn’t recognize, the small army that had invaded her house disappeared quickly, leaving her sitting on the steps staring at the dark patch on the carpet.
That was never going to come out.
She’d eventually gone to bed as the first rays of dawn hit the skyline. It felt as if she’d never sleep, but now the room was full of sunlight. Light Sienna didn’t want to see or feel. She stayed buried under the covers for hours, but eventually her body won out. She wasn’t hungry, really—Sienna doubted she ever would be again—but her stomach felt empty and there was a vague tug in her mind that food would be a good idea. Emerging from her bed, she shuffled across her floor and opened her bedroom door, closing her eyes again immediately, her breath leaving her in a rush. She couldn’t look at the pictures that decorated the hallway walls, especially the larger one of her and her mom at the head of the staircase. She definitely couldn’t look at the table with the little vase of flowers hovering near the front door. She’d been there when her mother had bought them. They’d had lunch at Sienna’s favorite restaurant that day; her mother’s attempt to reconnect.
She should be out there, doing what the police weren’t—hunting the sick fuck who killed her mother. Instead, she barely had the strength to walk to the kitchen. She tiptoed past the mess on the floor with the hope that she was dodging most of the glass shards, closing her eyes as she passed by where her body had lain. It didn’t matter. She was everywhere, even in the kitchen, even though the smell of cleaning fluids overpowered any residual baking scents today. Sienna sat on a stool at the breakfast bar and let her eyes drift closed again, imagining her mom standing in front of her, breakfast ready. They’d been very different people, but Laura had tried her best. She’d never shared the reason for her overprotective rules, but now, faced with a lifetime of never hearing her mom speak again, it didn’t seem all that bad after all.
A chill went down Sienna’s spine. Why had someone killed her mom? Had there been a reason? She shook the thought away. No, they were just regular people living in a regular suburban house. If there’d been anything else to it, she would have seen some evidence in nearly two decades. She didn’t remember much before five years old, from before they’d moved here. But that was the same for every kid, wasn’t it?
She walked over to the fridge and looked inside, nearly slamming the door shut again. Sitting front and center was a plate, all made up with friend chicken, mac and cheese, and a little pile of coleslaw. After Sienna had yelled at her mother and blown her off, storming out the door, Laura had calmly gone to the kitchen, ate alone, and then put together a plate for her daughter. Sienna’s hands shook as she pushed the door closed. She couldn’t do this. This wasn’t a home anymore. The body might be gone, but the house was forever now a tomb.
If she wasn’t going to eat, then she could at least try to get out the last of the glass that was still pricking her skin. After trudging back up the stairs, she grabbed some clean clothes and went to the bathroom. Stepping under the water, she scrubbed herself raw, washing away every last particle of the night before. In her mind, the water swirled red. She rinsed and dried as quickly as she could, and then went back to her room, dressed, and then sat on the end of the bed.
Now what was she supposed to do? She stood, walking to the hall, almost drifting, until Sienna realized she was standing in front of her mother’s bedroom door. She reached out and pushed the door open, stifling a cry when her mother’s scent hit her. It was stronger here, and comforting, unlike the tang of death that blanketed the rest of the house. Her green flowered bedspread was laid out perfectly, unlike Sienna’s, which was usually a pile on the floor. Lace curtains blew softly in the breeze that passed through the open window, almost like a whisper. She walked to the bed and lay down, letting her head rest lightly on the pillow. The scent was even stronger there. Her gaze caught a single strand of hair, stuck to the edge of the pillowcase. She stared at it as it moved softly in the breeze flowing through the room. That was as close as she was ever going to get to her mother again.
Sienna felt her eyelids droop. She ran her fingers along the edge of the comforter. She should get up and look under
the bed. There was a treasure trove under there, her mother’s most cherished possessions, which would become her own. It had been years since she’d looked inside her mom’s old photo album. Somehow, now it was all she could think about. Laura had decorated it herself, with white lace edging and blue padding on the corners.
When she was younger, Sienna had sat for hours, asking her mom the story behind all the photos. A ghost of a smile crossed her face. There was the picture from when they’d gone hiking when she was nine. It had been her first time, and Sienna had loved every second of it. Then there was her baby picture with her first ice cream cone. Laura was smiling happily behind her. Sienna had as much ice cream on her hands as on her face. In that album—somewhere under the bed—was the proof that she and her mother had lived wonderful lives, too, that it hadn’t always been a fight. She should get up and find it, but she couldn’t find the strength. Instead, she let her eyes close and sleep take her. Maybe in here, surrounded by memories, her mother’s spirit would find her and give her a little respite. The memory of the way she’d left the night before slammed in Sienna’s mind.
Don’t count on it. You don’t deserve it.
4
Sienna
When Sienna opened her eyes again, the light had turned soft and warm, falling lower through the window. She slipped off the bed and padded toward the door, refusing to look back at the room that felt like it still held her mother’s very being. The photo albums under the bed still beckoned her, but she refused to give in. Ever since she’d wiped away her tears last night, sitting on the steps, unmoving while the cops bustled around, she’d managed to keep control. Somewhat, anyway. Being in this room was overwhelming enough. If she opened the photo albums, saw her mom’s face again, that would unlock something that she wasn’t ready to face yet.
Slipping out the door, she closed it gently—reverently, almost—and walked down the stairs. The house was cold. Was the electricity still on? She had no idea when the bill was due. She walked into the kitchen, looking for any paperwork her mom had. Maybe taking care of the immediate worries was the best thing to be doing right now. She glanced back at the dark spot on the carpet, a shiver running through her. She was sitting less than ten feet from where her mother was murdered. Sienna jerked back in her chair, refusing to turn her head to look again.
Sienna (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 5) Page 2
