Ethan
Around four in the afternoon, I was in my room tuning my guitar when the front door opened.
"I'm here!" Lexie shouted from downstairs.
"Be down in a sec!" I called back as I got up and put my acoustic guitar back on its stand. I picked up the sheet music off my dresser and hurried down the stairs. When she looked up I slowed on the steps. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around her eyes pink. My heart sank. "Beautiful?"
She gave me a forced smile. "So, what are we doing?"
Oh, fuck that. I stepped off the stairs and crossed the room to stand in front of her. "Why do you look like you've been crying?"
She shrugged. "Oh, it's just allergies. Been sneezing all day. I think the antihistamines finally kicked in."
"Are you sure?" I asked, running my eyes over her. It could be allergies... I'd had them pretty bad a few weeks ago.
"Yeah, something is just blooming." She gestured to the music in my hands. "What's that?"
I held up the sheet music, deciding to let it go, though not sure if I should. "Yeah, I thought it'd be a good time to teach you the piano."
She grinned. "You are just determined to teach me how to play an instrument."
"Yep." I took her arm, led her over to the piano and patted the bench. "Sit." I lifted the key cover and sat down on one side of the bench. She sighed before sitting next to me, her shoulder pressing against mine. "Okay, first, the keys." I set one finger on middle C. “This”—I pressed the key several times so she could hear the note—“is middle C. When playing the piano, middle C is where you want to start, at least until you get the hang of it. Give me your right hand." She held her hand out to me palm up. I turned her hand over and placed her thumb on middle C. "Now, your thumb is on middle C..."
I began to run her through the notes slowly. She chewed the bottom corner of her lip as she learned the notes. Her eyes focused completely on the keys, blocking everything else out like she did when she was doing homework. I had spent enough time watching her when I was supposed to be doing my own homework. When she concentrated like this, she picked things up quickly.
It wasn't long before I began giving her a melody to follow by simply saying a finger number. Soon she was playing ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.’ When she ran through the melody twice without making a mistake she threw an arm up.
"Yes!" she exclaimed before she looked up at me. Her eyes were clear and happy, her face glowing. My heart skipped a beat as she met my eyes. Rosemary filled my lungs. She was right there, her body heat warming my side. My eyes traveled over her face, the sweep of her lashes, to the curve of her cheek and down to those lips.
"So, that's all it is?" she asked, reminding me what we were doing.
I tore my eyes from her and back to the music. "Um, yeah. That's the basics. Eventually, you'll learn chords and how to use both hands at the same time."
"Play something?" she asked in a quiet voice. I turned back to her and went still. She was looking up at me from under her lashes with a small grin. My will disappeared with that look. I met her eyes and a song came to me.
I turned to the back to the piano and placed my fingers on the keys. I began the first notes of ‘By Your Side’ by Lifehouse. I focused on the music and tried not to worry if I was showing my cards or not.
As I played the last notes, she leaned her head against my shoulder. When I was done I looked down at her. She had a sweet, serene look on her face.
"Again?" she whispered. That nagging feeling that something was wrong was back. I wanted to ask, but... if she wanted to talk about it she would. So I did the only thing I could. I played for her. One song flowed into another, and another. There was nothing else in the world but us and the music.
Asher
I opened the front door, looking forward to relaxing after work. Dinner. What was defrosted in the fridge?
Cursing caught my attention. I moved from the doorway and into the living room just in time to watch Dad take down a picture of Mom. Anger rolled through me.
“What are you doing?” I demanded.
He turned and put the picture frame in a box. “Taking these down, again.”
“Why?” I snapped.
Dad pulled down the last photo in the living room, picked up the box and turned around. “Because, there’s no point in reminding everyone she’s gone,” he snapped before moving into the foyer and starting on those pictures.
“It’s not a reminder,” I told him. “It’s to remember the good times we had with her.” Dad kept taking down pictures. I walked up behind him. “It’s wrong to erase her from the house as if she never lived.” He slowed. “She was our mother. Why shouldn’t we have photos of her up?”
He turned around and glared at me. “Because it’s my house and I don’t want them up.” He moved past me, bumping my shoulder. I turned to watch him put the box on the foyer table. He picked up Mom’s flag.
“Where the hell did this come from?” he snapped.
“Ally had it made at Christmas,” I said, my voice quiet.
He scowled, then used the case to point at me. “I told you I would get one when the time was right.”
“When is the time going to be right? You’ve had more than two years,” I pointed out. He shook his head and flipped the box around. His fingers moved to the latches. No!
I snatched the box out of his hands before he could open it. “What the hell is the matter with you?” I shouted. “Someone did something nice for Mom, something you never did, and you get pissed about it?”
He turned on me, fire burning in his eyes. “It’s this girl, isn’t it? That’s where you got the idea you don’t want to play football.” I looked at him like he was insane. Was he kidding?
He shook his head. “You can’t hang out with her anymore. She’s a bad influence.”
That was it. “She’s a good person who actually listens to me.”
He scowled at me. “As long as you live under my roof—”
“Well, it’s a damn good thing I have options,” I snapped. “I’m out until you’re gone. It shouldn’t be long, three or four days. Max.”
I moved past him and went back upstairs, taking Mom’s flag with me. I quickly packed a duffle and carefully put the flag in with my stuff. I headed downstairs and shouldered past him on my way out the door.
He was yelling at me from the porch as I pulled away from the curb, still seething.
Lexie
I parked the Blazer in front of Miles’ house, on the circular driveway. The three-story gray stone mansion was covered in green ivy now. It looked pretty in the summer.
I leaned my head back, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. Ethan was asking if I was okay. So was Zeke. If I wasn’t careful they’d call a family meeting and ask to know what was going on. I looked at the red truck. Huh, Asher’s here.
Grumbling, I got out and let Hades jump down to the gravel. I needed those research books. I shut the door and headed inside. Was that… was that pizza? I closed the front door behind me.
“I’m here!” I shouted, as much as I could.
“Kitchen!” Miles called.
Hades took off for the smell of food; I followed at a less hungry pace. Sure enough, on the counter were two pizza boxes. That wasn’t right.
“Where’s Asher?” I asked as I stepped up to the counter. “I saw his truck outside.”
“Asher is upstairs in his room,” Miles informed me as he put his dish in the sink.
My eyes met his. “There’s pizza from a restaurant and Asher is here?” I asked, just to be clear. Miles nodded. Oh, shit. Something was wrong. “Did something happen?”
“Asher and his dad are not getting along. Asher will be staying here until he leaves,” he explained. Holy shit.
I looked at the door to the kitchen. “Which room?”
“Right hall, second on the right side,” Miles said. I sent him a smile before heading upstairs. I never really spent much time upstairs in Miles’ house. My bedroom was t
he master bedroom downstairs. I stopped at the door and knocked.
“It’s me,” I announced.
“Come in.” Asher’s voice was low. I didn’t like it. I opened the door and smiled. Asher’s room looked a lot like, well, him. Shelves of cookbooks everywhere. The walls here were more of a buttery yellow, his comforter was a light, faded blue, and of course there were rock climbing holds all over the walls. But what held my attention was Asher, laying on his back, sideways across a queen-size bed.
I closed the door behind me and climbed onto the bed to sit near his head. I piled a couple of pillows behind me so I could lay against them with my knees barely bent. His eyes were closed. I rubbed a fingertip over the center of his forehead. He opened his eyes and met mine.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Hi,” he whispered back.
“You okay?” I asked, keeping my voice soft.
He sighed. “No.”
“What happened?” I asked gently. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes.
“Things haven’t been good,” he began. “Any time I see him, we argue.”
“What about?”
He looked up at me, his eyes full of shadows. Instead of saying anything he moved closer, his head finding my stomach. My fingers instantly moved into his hair. He closed his eyes and sighed. My other hand found his upper chest. Vanilla and cinnamon surrounded me as he took that hand and stroked my fingers with his. We sat like that for several minutes, until he was ready to tell me.
“I told him I didn’t want to play pro football,” he announced. Whoa. Asher told his dad that? Holy…
“How did he take that?” I asked, hoping his dad was understanding. But from the look on his face, I doubted it.
“To sum up, he told me I was too stupid to get into college on my own, and that he wouldn’t pay for it or co-sign a student loan,” he said, his voice matter-of-fact. My chest ached.
“Oh, Ash.” I squeezed his hand tight. He squeezed back. “I’m sorry he said that.”
“What the fuck am I going to do?” He looked up at me.
“You have amazing grades, so you have options for scholarships that aren’t related to football. If you can get a couple, then that would bring the loans down and you might be able to get a loan without a co-signer,” I tried to reassure him. “And if they don’t, there is still financial aid. And community college.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You’re right, there are ways to still get there.”
“Besides, he might be bluffing,” I offered.
He met my eyes and shook his head. “He doesn’t bluff.”
I continued moving my fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry, Ash.”
He squeezed my hand. “That’s not even why I left.”
“Miles only said you and your dad aren’t getting along...”
He shook his head. “He got angry about the flag case.” His voice was soft. “And I couldn’t believe it. You did something nice for Mom, and he was angry about it. It just hit me, then.”
“What did?” I asked.
“What an asshole he is,” he whispered. “He couldn’t see past his issues to see how thoughtful it was.” His gaze moved to the ceiling, his eyes unfocused.
“I wish I could fix it,” I admitted. He squeezed my hand. We were quiet for several minutes.
“In my desk at home, I have emancipation forms,” he said.
My eyebrows went up. “Are you going to file?”
He closed his eyes. “I think so.”
My heart ached. I hated to do this, but I knew Asher. “Are you sure you want to do that?”
He rolled his head on my stomach to look up at me. “I don’t know.”
“Honey, I know your dad’s a dick, but he is only here for a little while. If you do this, you’ll be leaving Jessica alone in that house.” He winced. “And if something happened to her, you’d never forgive yourself.”
His face grew dark. “I don’t know if I care anymore.”
I ran my fingers through his hair again, getting his attention. “You do. It doesn’t feel like it right now, but you do. I’m not saying don’t do it, I’m saying that you should wait and take your time to think about it when you aren’t upset and angry.”
His eyes unfocused on my face. I waited. He sighed. “Alright, I’ll think about it more.” His eyes focused on me again. “How was Jake? I haven’t heard from him.”
I sighed. “Heartbroken. He’s been acting jealous whenever Derrick talked to a girl for a month now. Derrick had finally had enough.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “They’ll work it out, Ally.” His fingers began rubbing mine again. “They’ve been friends for years.”
“I don’t know.” I took a deep breath and told him the rest. “Dylan showed up.”
Asher’s brow drew down as he shifted so he could see me better. “What happened?”
“He apologized for what he said. Then he said he wanted to be friends.” I still couldn’t believe it.
“Wow, what did you say?” he asked quietly, his fingers tightening on mine.
I met his eyes. “I told him no.” I explained to him how Dylan had stood over me and not listened when I told him to back off.
His gaze ran over my face. “Are you alright?”
I gave him a smile. “I’m okay. It’s over. I’ve said my piece, he’s said his. And he knows it’s not going to happen.”
“Good. Otherwise he’ll get a beating of a lifetime,” he grumbled.
I chuckled. “So, are you going to come downstairs and eat? Or do I have to call everyone to come over and hang out here?”
“Oh God, no.” He chuckled. “I’m getting up.”
Isaac
Seventy-eight, seventy-nine. My heart hammered in my chest, my muscles burned. I did another push up, and another. I kept moving. I was going to get some sleep tonight, I had to. Eighty-two, eighty-three. My lungs burned for air. My arms shook before they gave out. I dropped to the floor of my room and tried to catch my breath. The voice… it needed to stop… I rolled onto my back, bent my knees and began doing crunches, alternating center with side-to-side.
I had taken sleeping stuff. I’ve tried warm milk. I tried moving all day. Now I was down to working out until I was exhausted. My abs burned. I kept pushing it.
It’s not going to work, you’ll still be the asshole who killed his sister.
I pushed it harder, barely allowing myself to breath. I needed to sleep… I couldn’t take it anymore… I focused on moving my body the way I needed to. Focused on every movement, every twist, until everything else fell away. But the voice never went anywhere. It was still there, whispering to me.
Finally, I dropped back onto the floor, my body exhausted and aching. Images of me smothering Sophie kept flashing. I couldn’t do this anymore. I needed to know the truth.
You know the truth.
No. If I had done that, Sophie would have told Lexie... Lexie. I had to know. I had to ask. Darkness washed over me and I sighed gratefully. Tomorrow… I’d ask her tomorrow….
Chapter 9
Tuesday
Isaac
I woke up gasping, images of Sophie floating through my mind. It took me several minutes before I realized I was on the floor in my room. What…? Oh… right… My muscles protested when I got up and moved to my dresser. Mom’s probably at work, Ethan was probably here… The urge to pound my fist into his face flashed through me. My hands shook. I needed to get out. I pulled on some clothes, jammed my feet into my sneakers, and then rushed out my bedroom door and down the stairs. I grabbed the keys off the table next to the door as Ethan walked out of the kitchen.
“Hey, where are you going?” Ethan asked. “I gotta go over to Miles’ today.”
Rage tore through me as I turned around. “Then fucking walk, like I’ve been fucking doing for the last year,” I snapped.
Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“What the fuck do you think it means?” I shoute
d in Spanish. “For once you can fucking walk!” I stormed out the door, slamming it behind me. I wasn’t going to deal with his shit anymore.
Lexie
An annoying ringing had me rolling over and unsuccessfully trying to pick up my phone.
“Yeah?” I mumbled.
“We can’t even be in the same room!” Jake shouted in my ear. I rolled onto my back and tried to wake up.
“What? Huh?” I asked, blinking as I tried to get used to the light streaming in my window.
“Derrick and I met last night to try and talk things out,” Jake explained, his voice thick. “We barely said a sentence to each other before we started yelling. That fucker can go to hell!”
What? “Wait… slow down.” I tried to understand. “What happened when you met?”
“We can’t stand each other, that’s what happened,” he grumbled. “He started saying how it was all my fault. And I asked him if he was still talking to his ex-girlfriends. He admitted it!”
I blinked at the high note in his voice. “What? He said… what?”
“He said he was being friendly with his exes,” he scoffed. “I know what being friendly for Derrick is, and those bitches still like him.”
Was he fucking serious? “Jake,” I stated calmly, “do you have proof? Have you seen him flirt, actually flirt, with an ex?”
“Well, no. But he does,” he countered.
I shook my head. “Okay, so you were acting like a jealous ass to the point he broke up with you, you had a chance to fix it and work it out, but instead you went in and accused him of more flirting?”
The line was silent for several heartbeats.
“Um… yeah,” he admitted.
When Evil Comes To Play (The Veil Diaries Book 5) Page 17
