Angels of Belle Meade

by Lindsey Iler

  “Oh, come on, baby brother. I just wanted to play.” His stare burns into me, then shifts to the game consoles.

  I know exactly what he means. He doesn’t give a rat’s ass about any game. I’m the one thing he wants to control. He’s dying to find the buttons inside my mind to push.

  But why? Who am I to him, and why do I feel that every second that passes, he’ll find something new he wants to toy with on my body and in my mind?

  A shiver dances across every inch of my skin. The split ends on my hair practically cry out in repulsion. Never in my life have I ever felt so uneasy.

  “Not today.” Edric shoves him out of the room and slams the door, closing us in.

  His brother’s chuckle echoes through the upstairs.

  “Sorry about that. He can be a bit of trouble.”

  “Seems it runs in the family.” I tilt my head to the side, curious to figure Edric out. He’s like a Rubik’s Cube. He’s going to give me trouble, but I’m willing to fight to solve the puzzle.

  “Oh, baby, I’m harmless.”

  “Says the boy who lured me into his bedroom under the pretense of a great view,” I challenge. “So, where’s this great view?”

  “Right here.” He opens a door I hadn’t even noticed and gestures for me to enter.

  On the third step, I peek over my shoulder. Could he stare any harder at my ass?

  “You aren’t going to kill me, are you?”

  “If I were going to, do you think I’d let you know?” He moves up one stair tread, bringing us eye-to-eye. “Murderers don’t advertise. They lurk in the dark, waiting to pounce on their victim, listening to their blood race through their veins, desperate to spill it.”

  I’m forced sideways as he moves up beside me. In the small passage, I feel tiny in comparison to him. His chest is broad, and I brace my hand on it to steady myself. His breaths are heavy, and as if he knows I’ve caught on, he covers my hand with his.

  “You make me nervous, and no one makes me nervous,” he admits, earning an amused smile from me.

  I love the power he’s just given me.

  Backward, I climb the staircase, keeping my eyes on him. His gaze dances around my lips, and I purposely nibble on the tight skin. We affect each other, and an exhilaration comes with the knowledge. He feels it, too.

  The room he brings me to is dome-shaped with floor-to-ceiling windows, mimicking its outside appearance. Delicate velvet paper covers the walls, and I can’t help but brush my fingers over it.

  One of the windows looks out over Belle Meade. Every landmark is easy to spot from this vantage point. Main Street lined with cars. Shoppers buzzing in and out of stores. City Hall packed with business suits.

  Across from us is a telescope. When I move toward it, Edric blocks my path. I place my hand low on his stomach and stand on my tiptoes, knowing it will distract him.

  “Let me take a peek, Edric.” My lips feather his skin.

  “Be my guest.” He moves out of my way, and I walk past him, breathing in a lungful of air scented with his cologne. The cedarwood isn’t too strong but enough to grab my attention.

  I place my eye up to the eyepiece and gasp. I jerk back, only to return for another look.

  “It’s on my house.”

  “It’s not what you think.” He wrings his hands together, but guilt doesn’t fall from his face like I half-expect.

  “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  “Why is your telescope pointed at the Mayor’s Manor? Specifically, why is it pointed at my bedroom window?”

  “Curiosity.” He releases a long, annoyed breath.

  “You’re a Peeping Tom.” A deep scowl creases my forehead. Edric’s been watching me.

  “Call it whatever you want, Lennox. I wanted to look at you, so I did.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip and smirks.

  The news should scare me. His viewing me in secret doesn’t elicit fear, though, and I’m not sure why. I want him to watch me, to see me. Maybe he’ll be the first person who finally does, even if it is in the creepiest way possible.

  On the other hand, it’s an invasion of my privacy.

  “What have you seen?” I ask, because even though I shouldn’t get giddy from the idea, a thrill runs through me.

  “Just a girl, who sometimes seems to struggle with who she is. So, she writes in her journal a lot, because it’s the only place she can tell her true fears and desires.” He shakes his head. Is he fearful of what he’ll say next? “I’d give anything to know the secrets you whisper into those pages, Lennox.”

  “Why though? A guy like you could watch anyone, so why me?” I step to the side, keeping just enough distance between us. I may not be afraid, but there’s still so much I don’t know about Edric.

  “Ever play with one of those tabletop games, you sometimes find in doctors’ offices? They’re meant to pass the time while you wait to be seen,” he says.

  “What does that have to do with us?” I ask, taking another step away, closing the distance between me and the door. A quick exit is what I’m searching for.

  “My favorite was always the magnets.”

  Mine, too.

  “The silver flecks of metal were so attracted to that black box, as if they had no other choice but to cling to it.”

  “Let me guess, I’m the black box.”

  “And I’m the silver flecks. It seems no matter what direction you drop me, I’ll always find a way to my little black box.”

  Is it possible to stop breathing from hearing a few simple words? How is it so easy for him to seem so sincere, all while saying the craziest shit?

  “I better go.” I swallow the lump in my throat, the only thing proving I’m still a living, breathing thing.

  Turning my back, I race down the flight of stairs, through his bedroom, and down the main staircase until my shoes hit the tiled floor in the foyer. There’s no need to glance behind me. I can smell his cologne, teasing from behind me.

  I open the front door and feel his lips on my earlobe, whispering, “I’ll see you soon, then.”

  With a quick glance, I assume he’s directly behind me, but he’s not. He’s leaning against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest as if he’s just won the biggest of prizes.

  Maybe he thinks he has.

  He can close his own door. I need fresh air before I go completely crazy.

  Chapter Seven

  Edric

  With a flick of my finger, the front door closes, and through the small panes of distorted glass, I watch Lennox get the hell out of here faster than I’ve ever seen anyone with her stature move.

  Can I really blame her? She found my fucking telescope pointed at her window. It would be easier if she’d never seen it, but now that she has, I can’t ignore the way her eyes sparkled just enough to prove to me she didn’t hate the idea of being under my surveillance. Knowing she likes to be watched, well, it brings a whole new kind of satisfaction.

  My brother leans against the railing, both mom and dad flanking his sides. I don’t have time for their shit. As usual, I’m not given a choice.

  “Maybe we should go sit down,” my brother commands, gesturing toward the sitting room off to our right.

  My stomach growls, and I defy his order, passing into the kitchen.

  The light inside the refrigerator illuminates the kitchen. Out of the corner of my eye, their disapproval comes in the form of stormy eyes and electrifying snarls. The not so subtle grunts behind me are proof enough my meal won’t be consumed in peace.

  “You know you can stop curling your lip at me? It won’t change a thing.” I grab the lunch meat and bread, only to be met with my father’s hand nearly slamming the door on my hand.

  “He never was one to care of our disappointment,” my mother says, leaning against the center island where I’ve placed my food.

  I think of all the horrendous things I’d love to do to my brother if he keeps having the thoughts he’s having. My anger grows into strength,
and in a flash, he’s pinned against the kitchen sink.

  “And no matter what you think or do, it won’t be different this time. She will not be different.”

  “Get out of my fucking head, Edric.” Hunter jerks his shoulders, failing at any sort of escape. “Mom!” His yelp sounds like a wounded dog, and that’s exactly what he’ll be if he keeps this shit up and doesn’t erase her from his mind.

  “Edric, let him out.” My mother steps to my brother.

  “He always was your favorite.” I pull a knife from the drawer, running my finger over the blade to experience the pinch against my flesh. How I would love to run its ridged edge over Hunter’s throat, to see his thoughts disappear from his mind as his body leaves this earth. Hell would love their new addition.

  “Maybe if you’d actually follow Mom’s orders,” Hunter grunts.

  I tighten my hold on him, squeezing his wrists while spreading mayonnaise on my bread.

  “Mom, make him release me.”

  Never one to allow anyone to demand anything from me, I release him. Hunter falls to the tiled floor, wringing his fingers over his wrists. The red marks, while not permanent, are evidence I can hurt him if I so choose.

  “What is it about this girl that is so special, Edric? Please explain to us, your family, your blood, why you are willing to compromise our entire being for some wingless peasant?” My father’s hand slams down on the kitchen island. The heat of his anger encompasses my entire body. He’s never been good at his control.

  “Maybe the three of you should ask yourselves why it’s so important for her to fall? What ridiculous story have you built up in your head over the years that you are willing to thrash a family over some childhood rivalry?” I place the last piece of bread on my sandwich and take a large bite. “Not everyone in this family is willing to fight your battles.” I check over my father’s shoulder to see my mother’s nostrils flare, only to find my father’s chest rise and fall frantically. “I know I’m your son, and I’m meant to follow suit, but not this time, Father.”

  “You must, or else, there will be true consequences.” My mother moves shoulder to shoulder with my father.

  Together they are picturesque, the epitome of strength and beauty. I aspire to have what they have, even when I despise what they’re trying to do.

  “And what may those be, huh? Give me a good reason why Lennox and I can’t have a friendship?”

  “Trust me when I say you won’t want to see the hellfire brought down on this family if you cross the line,” he explains.

  My father has always been a reasonable man. There has never been a moment when I haven’t believed he has my best interest at heart.

  Until now.

  “A man not willing to give an explanation is no man in my eyes.” I focus, struggling to get a hold on my father’s thoughts.

  His mind is void, blanketed in a darkness I’ve never experienced. Ever since I’d learned of my ability when I turned ten, I’ve practiced, perfecting the skill. When used on humans, the transition is easy. They don’t feel the intrusion on their thoughts. Anyone within my own world has the ability to block it out if they so choose. I’ve mastered the backdoor approach, though. No one needs to know I’ve entered until I use their own words against them.

  So, why can’t I gain access to his?

  “Did you honestly think I’d allow you in?” He straightens his jacket and crosses one ankle over the other, blocking my path from him and his gleeful eyes. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. How dare you think so little of me. As if I’d let you near the information I have dangling over your head.”

  If I could, I’d snap his wiggling finger clean off his body and tickle his own throat with it.

  “So, I can’t have her, but you aren’t willing to fill me in on why. That’s what you are saying?” I bark, colliding my shoulder into his as I exit the kitchen.

  Their thoughts are a mirage of twisted and sinister acts, slamming into me as I make my way to the front door.

  “Hunter, if you so much lay a single glance on her skin, I will bury you where no one will ever find your mangled body!” I yell, slamming the front door behind me to the chorus of their laughs.

  If they think for a single second, their pitiful threats will keep me from slinking closer to Lennox, then they don’t know me at all. One trait I’ve inherited from the Blackstones is a stubbornness that knows no bounds.

  My own tenacity drags me through town. Main Street is empty, allowing me to take my time and search for what I’m looking for. After three passes of finding nothing, I begin to wonder if this is a horrible idea.

  Just as I decide to turn back toward home, I spot the brightest of red hair. Amilee turns back to Emerson, shopping bags in her hands. My intuition about her was right. She’s materialistic. How can anyone blame her? She was born with a silver spoon in her mouth, I’m sure.

  When Lennox scurried from the house, I had hoped to bump into her again, test the waters a little further, but now I’m glad I only have her friends. The way to a girl is through her confidants, anyway.

  This should be fun.

  I pull up behind a sleek, black SUV. The headlights blink, and a soft beeping alerts of the doors being unlocked. Before they can escape, I hurry around the side of the vehicle, catching Amilee tossing her shopping bags into the back seat.

  “Amilee, right?” I feign indifference as if I’m not sure I remember her. For one, it’s sure to piss her off, which is more fun for me, and two, I’d hate for her to think I’m after more than anything other than her best friend.

  Everything in life is a game, even something as trivial as searching for information about a girl.

  “Really?” She twirls on her heels, slamming me with an awfully miserable snarl. “After the verbal lashing you gave me the other night, I’d assume you’d at least remember my name!”

  “Let me make it up to you two.” I check to see if I have Emerson’s attention, and when I know I do, I smirk. All you need to do is flash some pearly whites, fake a sliver of interest, and most, but not all girls will fall at your feet, no matter how mean you are to them. This is a fact. “How about you spare a few minutes of your time and let me buy you a milkshake, you know, to apologize for the way I treated you the other night?”

  “And give us one good reason why we should waste our valuable time doing such a thing?” Emerson speaks up.

  She’s the quiet one of their threesome, but I think I was right about her. She may be the most reserved, but she hides the fire deep down. Now, let’s see if I can use that to my advantage.

  “Oh, come on, Emerson.” I dust a lone eyelash from the ball of her cheek. My finger is flooded with heat from her skin. There it is. She’ll submit to anything I ask of her, and it only takes a single sparkle in her eye to prove me right. “I’m new here in town. I could use a good friend, and you seem like just the girl.”

  “Wipe the drool from your chin, Em.” Amilee wraps her arm through mine. “We’ll grab a bite with you.”

  Okay, clearly, I must have hit a nerve of Amilee’s. She’s not used to playing second fiddle to Emerson, and she didn’t like feeling invisible. Jealousy I can work with.

  “So, Emerson . . .” I say, and without a single beat, she scurries to stand beside me. Amilee’s arm tightens around mine. “Do you have a favorite milkshake flavor?” I pull my arm out from Amilee’s, and she huffs as I hold the door open.

  When we enter the old-style diner, the waitress barely says hello and practically throws the menus at us.

  “Friendly town,” I observe.

  “You’re with the richest of the rich.” Amilee takes pride in her position, like I fucking care.

  We get it. You’re swimming in old money.

  I sit down on one side, spreading out, needing both of them to sit across from me. I’m not proud of it, but I’m willing to break my own rules to gain an extra foothold on everything Lennox.

  “We’ve been treated differently since we were young. Our last name is equal to a
crown inside the city limits,” Emerson adds, sliding into the booth.

  Amilee scrunches in beside her. If her frown droops any further, it will grace the sticky floor.

  “You wear the crown well.” I lean forward, reaching across the table and gripping Emerson’s hand.

  Amilee steams, and I wonder how long it will take her to crack.

  Come on, Amilee, hand over the thoughts.

  “I try my best.” Emerson shrugs.

  “It must be difficult being held to such a high standard in this town,” I say, resisting the grin that’s dying to break through when relief washes over Emerson’s face.

  My talents, one. Emerson, zero. Sometimes it’s too easy to break through the barrier, but she had been all too eager to hand it over to me.

  Now, let’s hope Amilee is just as happy to oblige.

  “What about you, Amilee? Do you find it hard to live up to everyone’s standards?” I ask, shifting my entire body toward her to make her believe she matters.

  “I set the standards, so no, it’s not difficult. You should ask Lennox. If you’re looking for a damsel in distress, she’s your girl.” Amilee flags down a waitress to order herself a Coca-Cola. The way she fiddles with her throat, I’d suspect something is bothering her.

  After we all order and are left alone, I focus deeply on my breathing, syncing up with Amilee’s to become a part of her, and that’s when I hear it.

  “You think she’s weak,” I say, matter of fact.

  Lennox is supposed to be her best friend and somehow, Amilee still finds her weak. But why?

  “I never said that.” The urgency in her rushed words is proof enough. Even Emerson glances at her with disbelief.

  “You didn’t have to, sweetheart. Your face gave you away.” And I wonder what Lennox would think if she knew that’s what her best friend believes. “Typically, it’s the weakest in the pack who believes they’re the strongest.”

  Emerson leans forward, suddenly skeptical of what I’m trying to get at. Maybe I went too hard. I should rein them back in, prove I’m not after anything other than the pretense of friendship.