Angels of Belle Meade

by Lindsey Iler

  “What do you see, Lennox?” Afraid he’ll interrupt my progress, Mr. Reynolds lowers his voice a single octave.

  “The colors, they’re bright and swirling around like a tornado,” I explain, squinting in amazement.

  “Look beyond the colors. They’re meant to distract you. What else do you see?” Mr. Reynolds invades my space, and I glance at him before checking the image floating above my hand.

  “Two people arguing,” I answer. “I don’t recognize them.”

  “Can you hear them?” His voice is full of excitement and wonderment.

  “Hold on.” I clasp my eyelids tightly and send all my attention to the image I feel. It all starts as a whisper. If I hadn’t been honing in, it would have gone unrecognized. I inch forward, as if I’m in the room with the arguing strangers. As I do so, their voices grow louder.

  “What the hell?” I whisper, confused with what’s happening.

  My skin feels on fire from the transition from here to there. Somehow, I’m still in the room with Mr. Reynolds and the girls, but also somewhere else completely. In my everyday mind, this current moment doesn’t make any sense, but right now, here, it feels normal.

  Before me, the woman raises a steel fire poker high into the air and brings it down with a loud thud against the man’s head. An audible cry escapes my mouth, and the woman freezes, searching the room for me. I’m not there, though.

  I pinch my eyes shut tight, and when they open again, Amilee and Emerson are by my side. Each of them has a calming hand on my arm. My breathing is erratic, and over their shoulders, I see Mr. Reynolds pacing back and forth, mumbling something to himself.

  “Did you see what I saw?” I whisper the question.

  “Yes, but what I’m most curious about is how she heard you. Angels are meant to be undetected, but . . .” His worried brow causes bile to rise into my throat.

  “But what? What does that mean?” If I’m meant to go undetected, then how can this be explained?

  “I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out.” He leaves us to our own accord, and for hours we rummage through the old books lining the walls. Their dust proves it’s been awhile since anyone has made a visit to the archives.

  “Girls!” I shout, waving them over. My legs whip off the chair arm, and I lean forward, resting my forearms on my knees. “Look at this.”

  “That’s my grandma.” Emerson skims her finger over the picture.

  “Wow! She was gorgeous.” She can’t be much older than us right now in the picture. The ink is faded, but her beauty is undeniable. Curls cascade around her shoulders, long and healthy, and a youthful presence in her eyes.

  “That was her talent.” Mr. Reynolds’ voice startles us, and I slam the book shut.

  “Your grandmother was the most beautiful creature to walk these streets. Until you, Lennox.” His gaze slides to me. “You see, the most beautiful tend to hold the position of jury, but your generation seems to be switching things up.”

  “Switching things up, how?” Amilee asks, curiosity and fear in the rasp of her voice.

  “Nothing is as it should be.” His smile brightens.

  “And this is a good thing?” I goad.

  “Change can be refreshing. The townspeople won’t know what’s coming to get them.”

  “You mean they won’t see us.” Amilee stands and paces in front of my chair. “We’ll be the ones making the decisions. She’s the one who will be doing the killing.”

  “Amilee, if you keep looking at it that way, then you’ll never be successful. You three are a unit. She may yield the sword, but you both put it in her hand. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Mr. Reynolds tucks his glasses into his shirt pocket.

  “What you mean is that each of us are responsible for the spilled blood,” Emerson explains for our understanding. “We all play a part, but in the end, those three parts make us the Angels. Where there is one, there are two more standing close behind.”

  “Your choices are each other’s. Please keep that in mind when you force the hand.” His eyes, although sympathetic, seer into me with some kind of warning I’m not sure I understand.

  “Are we done here for today?” Emerson’s hands tremble.

  The adrenaline from our session is melting away, and now, the reality is setting in.

  “Yes, we’re all done. Please come back tomorrow, no later than eight.”

  “We do have lives, Mr. Reynolds.” Amilee grabs a stack of books, tucking them close to her body. Her green eyes challenge him, much like they challenge those who cross her. She’ll make a brilliant judge.

  “From this moment on, it would be best if the three of you look at this”—he waves his hand around the room—“as your office. This is your only job. Your only responsibility.”

  “Whatever.” Amilee’s nostrils flare. With a toss of her long red hair, she exits with her normal flourish.

  Emerson is close on her heels, calling for her to wait up. They’re two peas in a pod, and I’m left on the outskirts.

  “Lennox?” Mr. Reynolds’ voice stops me, and his worried expression concerns me. “Be safe, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I take my own stack of books and hurry to the door.

  Amilee and Emerson are in Amilee’s SUV, the music loud enough to hear on the opposite end of the parking lot.

  Emerson leans through the open window. “Come on. We’ve got shit to do.”

  “What could we possibly have to do?” I slide into the back seat, tossing the books beside me. The worn brown leather draws my attention. My ancestors have held these exact books in their hands.

  “Shopping.” Feeling heat on me, I jerk to find Amilee watching me in the rearview mirror instead of the road.

  “I should get home.” My fingertips brush along the cream edges of the aged paper.

  “Get home to do what, exactly? Make out with those books?” Emerson jokes, shoving the ends of her well-manicured nails into my knee. “Come on, Lenny. I’m the book nerd and even I want to avoid all that mess.” She taps her hand on the top of the stack of books.

  “Funny.” We both laugh. “But I don’t necessarily think it’s the worst idea to become well acquainted with what’s expected of us. Our laws and responsibilities.”

  “I decide who’s broken one of our cardinal rules. Emmy will decide their fate, and you’ll fulfill their punishment. It’s pretty fool proof, if you ask me.”

  “Easy to say for the girl whose only responsibility is to point her finger,” I say under a shallow breath.

  Emerson glances over her shoulder, one eyebrow lifted toward the heavens. I shrug, not concerned about the consequences.

  There’s a dynamic in our trio. Ironically, I think each of us believes we are on top of the food chain. This is exactly why I’m not afraid to stand up to Amilee, our so-called Queen B.

  “Yeah, well, nonetheless, the cards have been lain out in front of us. Now, we get to play the hand, so don’t get all high and mighty on me. Through the generations, this is what it’s been, and there ain’t shit we can do about it.” Amilee’s smug tone is evidence of the simple fact that we both know I drew the short stick.

  Emerson and Amilee chat in the front seat, carefree and whimsical, as if our entire worlds aren’t flipped on their damn sides, but hell, what do I know. I’ll just sit here and be complacent and quiet, following them to the mall to fucking shop. Skirts and handbags are the last things on my mind.

  The coolness of the window on my forehead helps tamp down the flames roaring under my skin. Skin I’m officially uncomfortable in.

  A tall figure I’d recognize anywhere walks out of the tree line. After the party, the tiniest features, like the small scar crossing over his left eyebrow, are imbedded into my mind.

  “Stop!” I shout, unbuckling my seat belt.

  “What?” Emerson jerks around and stares at me like I’ve grown a halo.

  “I can’t go shopping. Let me out of here,” I demand, tugging on the door handle.

&nb
sp; Amilee pulls over, clicks the locks, and turns fully around to address me. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

  “Haven’t we all?” I laugh, grinning at the both of them. As if I’ve been struck with a cattle prod, I jump out of the back seat.

  The rubber soles of my combat boots hit the sidewalk. He’s meters away, but he turns as if he’s heard me. His smile doesn’t falter. It doesn’t fade. He’s unmoving, and somehow, he’s frantic all at the same time.

  “Lennox, right?” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his shirt. He lights it, hitting his Zippo against his thigh.

  “As if you don’t already know.” I nudge Edric with my elbow and walk in the direction he was heading before I interrupted him. “So, what were you doing in the woods?”

  “Looking for bones.” He stares at me through his thick, black as coal lashes. His voice straddles a fine line between sincerity and sarcasm, and I can’t quite help to want to know where I stand with him.

  “Oh, yeah, and what were you going to do with them when you found them?” I test, watching our feet move in perfect rhythm like a heartbeat.

  Smoke spills out of his mouth. “If I told you, sweet Lennox, I’d have to kill you.” He stops, forcing me to do the same, and leers down at me.

  “I’d like to see you try.” A challenge is something he’ll get from me. I don’t back down from much, especially not some power-hungry playboy.

  “Well, this is my stop.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder.

  For the first time, I take in my surroundings. We’re in front of Dylan’s house. Their groundskeeper waves as he passes on the mower. Mr. Smelks has been in charge of their property since we were young. I remember him allowing me to drive around the vast property when I was far too young to be behind any wheel. He’s quite the mystery, though, to most people. I suppose that’s to be expected since he keeps to himself. Small towns don’t do well with loners. Edric is screwed.

  “Can I come in real quick? Just feel a tickle in my throat.” I rub the patch of skin below my chin. “Maybe get a glass of water.” My eyes stay trained on his house, curious what hides behind the rickety siding.

  “If you want to see the inside, all you had to do is ask.” He steps into me, our chests bumping into each other. “Let me make myself clear. I’m not like the rest of these guys. I see you’re beautiful, but it’s not going to blind me, sweetheart. Say what you want, when you want it.”

  “I’d like to see the inside of your house.”

  “My bedroom?”

  “I’m not a whore.”

  “And I never said you were.” He chuckles. “My room”—his head lifts toward the sun—“has the best view.”

  I squint to see the highest peak on the house. It resembles a bell tower, the architecture flawless and aged to a certain kind of perfection. It’s a portal into who Edric truly is and I’m dying to poke my head around.

  With a slow, weary pace, I follow Edric into the Belvedere Manor. I’ve spent many an hour daydreaming about this house, wondering what the walls would say if they could talk, or what secrets bleed from the seams of the torn wallpaper.

  “You coming?” Edric’s smooth, velvety voice brings me back. He’s on the porch, with a cocky grin on his full lips. The scar on his eyebrow tweaks as he watches me on the cracked sidewalk.

  The loud creak of the stairs sounds like a warning. One board is split right down the middle. I’ve never been one to listen.

  “Yeah, that needs to be fixed.” Edric shrugs.

  I like how unconcerned he is with appearances. The notion is refreshing and unheard of in Belle Meade. Our appearance is all any of us have. Under the designer clothes, beautiful makeup, and fake smiles, there isn’t much else.

  “Welcome to Belvedere Manor.” Edric makes a show of pushing the large doors open.

  The threshold is dark, but as I walk past him, I’m blasted by a brightness my mind can’t quite understand. It’s like I’ve been in a dark room for hours and someone pulls the curtains back, flooding the room in light. I’m blinded. I blink several times, and everything comes into focus. Even then, I’m wracking my brain to comprehend what I’m seeing.

  “What?” I gasp. “I don’t understand.”

  Edric greets me with a smile as I spin in his direction.

  “Outside appearances can be deceiving,” he says matter of fact, as if he didn’t just bring me inside his rundown home only to show me it’s not rundown at all. It’s the exact opposite, to be precise.

  The grand staircase with gold-detailed railings is impressive in size. Under the chandelier lights, the gold flickers, moving along the edge of the wood as though alive.

  It’s magical.

  “Whoa!” I release the breath I haven’t realized I was holding.

  “You get used to it.” Edric’s voice tickles my ear. His hand grips my elbow, guiding me like a lost puppy up the stairs. We pause on the middle landing, and I take a single moment to absorb my surroundings.

  “Did you think you and your friends were the only rich ones in town?” Edric takes the right staircase while I take the left.

  “No, but from the outside, this place seems like the pits of hell, when, in reality, you may have the most lavish home in town.” My hands slip up the railing, feeling the buttery mahogany against my skin. The wallpaper appears to dance in front of me, made of velvet and an opal appearance to distract anyone who bestows it. At the top of the staircase, two marble statues flank the hallway as if they’re standing guard. Separate, it would be too much, and still, somehow, it’s the most remarkable thing I’ve ever seen.

  “Like I said, Lennox, appearances can be deceiving. We only see what we want to see.” Edric retreats down the long passage.

  I glance around, sensing more than just Edric’s stare on me, but we are alone.

  “Wait up!” I rush to catch up, following him through a wide doorway into a room with a large four poster bed.

  I move around, skimming my fingertips across the velvety curtains and along the edge of his gold dresser. The matte black bed posts climb the room like vines, divine contrast to the dark navy-blue walls.

  “Everything is so regal.” As I turn, my foot catches on the teal-toned Persian rug.

  Edric reaches out to pull me against his sturdy chest. A chill runs down my arms as his fingertips skim down my goose-bumped skin.

  “Are you always this clumsy?” He flashes his dimples and steps back, assuring I’m steady on my own feet before dropping his grip. “First, running into me in the woods, and now, falling at my feet.”

  “I hardly fell at your feet just now, Edric,” I argue. “Maybe if your fancy rug hadn’t jumped in front of me.” I kick the fringe.

  “Jumped in front of you, huh?” His deep, brown eyes playfully burn into me, begging me to argue with him. He’s domineering with his tall stature, sexy-as-the-depths-of-hell brown eyes, and black-as-midnight hair. He brushes it off his face, smirking at me because, like most girls I’m sure, it causes my insides to flip inside out.

  “So, this is Belvedere Manor?”

  “No, this is my bedroom.” He shifts back until he hits the edge of his massive bed. He crosses his legs at the ankles, arms folded over his chest, and watches me like I’m a painting he expects to come alive right in front of him.

  “And quite the bedroom it is.” I walk over to the large stand that holds his stereo and every gaming system known to man.

  His laptop is open to his playlist, and I scan through the songs without seeming too nosy.

  “Push play,” he demands, as if he knows what has my curiosity piqued.

  A haunting tune filters through the room, not from the laptop itself, but from the ceiling and walls. They come alive.

  I turn, and there he is, appearing out of thin air in front of me.

  “Since that night in the woods, you’re all I can think about.” Edric cups the left side of my face in his strong hand.

  “Is that why you invited me into your roo
m?”

  “No.” He leans forward until his mouth is beside my ear. “It’s why I’m inviting you into my life.”

  I take one single step back as his lips graze my cheek. As I do, a powerful female voice bellows his name.

  “Edric, are you home?” A woman, dressed in a sleek, ivory pantsuit and a strand of pearls, strides through the ajar door. “Oh, I didn’t realize we had company.”

  At her observance, Edric makes more space between us.

  “Sorry, Mother.” He turns to me, his stare wide. “This is Lennox. Lennox, this is my mother, Elaine.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” I reach my hand out, a kind gesture, but am denied when she doesn’t glance in my direction but focuses her full attention on Edric.

  “Find me in my office, Edric.” She spins on her heels, leaving as fast as she came. “Quickly.”

  “She’s pleasant,” I say once we’re alone.

  “Mother can be a bit . . .” He pauses. Maybe he’s afraid to describe her the wrong way to me. If he’s anything like myself, he keeps his mother at arm’s length.

  “Bitchy?” I giggle when he coughs, choking on thin air. “She probably warms up, I’m sure.”

  “Actually no, she doesn’t.” His laughter hits me square in my gut, radiating outward until I can’t ignore the way it warms my chest. “I’ll be back in a second. Feel free to snoop. I know that’s your plan.”

  Once alone, I don’t move for a good five minutes. The last thing I want is to be found perusing through his crap, but the urge is strong when I glide my hand along the cool metal of the dresser.

  One peek won’t kill me. I make quick work of opening the top drawer.

  “What kind of person folds his underwear?” I whisper.

  Immediately, a wall of heat covers my back. With a deep breath, I shift, expecting to see a set of familiar eyes. Instead, the sly smile from a stranger greets me.

  “And you are?” He moves further into my space until his shoes practically tangle with my own.

  Sandwiched between him and the dresser, I take a deep breath, reminding myself I’m someone to be feared.

  “I’m Lennox, and you are?”

  “He’s leaving.” Edric’s hand lands on the guy’s shoulder and jerks him back.