Cole was just as frustrated with me. “Will you snap out of it Ari? I’m fed up with this vacancy bullshit you have going on.”
He was equally as mad. I rarely saw him like this. I avoided it. But now I was broken, and broken me was reckless, unafraid. Seeing him so angry only made me worse somehow. “Snap out of it? Snap out of it? Are you shitting me? I just buried my mother. Who by the way I happened to murder, so no, I won’t snap out of it! And stop telling me what to do – you don’t own me Colton!” My breathing was laboured, I know my voice was raised. I didn’t care who heard me.
“You didn’t murder her you little idiot, and from what I heard you tell the police, that witch is better off dead! I don’t want to own you, but I won’t let you make this harder for your dad or yourself,” he snapped back. He dragged a hand through his hair, clearly at the end of his patience.
“Little idiot? Well aren’t you the charmer. Gee thanks, friend!” I sneered at him, stepping back. “And to think that I’ve been driving myself insane, terrified that what she said to me was true!” I hissed at him. My arms were tight to my sides – I was stock still with fury.
Colton stilled. My wrath died on my tongue. My fight was gone. What was I doing? I looked at my hands and started to speak, to apologise, but he cut me off.
“Terrified?” His eyes were as hard as the gemstone they resembled in colour. A step towards me, “Terrified?” he asked me again. Had I backed up? I didn’t remember moving, but that was definitely the wall behind me. There was a knot in my stomach and I was pretty sure I needed to find an exit soon.
“Do I scare you Lil Bit?” His tone was mocking. His face impassive.
Well to be honest you don’t normally scare me, but just now, I would really like to get out of here.
“No,” I whispered. He could tell I was lying. It had always been scary how easily he could read me.
“No?” He ducked down to look into my eyes, a finger under my chin to lift my face to his. I swallowed. “Are you scared of wanting me to do this?” His lips brushed mine. I gasped. His lips were so soft, like velvet. I looked at him in confusion – his eyes were still hard, but it wasn’t anger in them now. Was it resolution? I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. His hand grazed my cheek. I shivered, why wasn’t I moving away?
His lips brushed mine again. I leaned forward into him. I murmured his name. I don’t know if I was asking him to stop or begging for more. Suddenly his resolve broke and he was crushing me to him. His lips slammed down onto mine harder and he was kissing me. My arms wound around his neck, my fingers tangled in his hair, and I felt his hand run slowly down my back and up again. I curved into him. I couldn’t get close enough.
I gasped when his fingers grazed my neck and his tongue sought entry to my mouth, sweeping across mine. His hand slipped into my hair and around to the back of my neck, holding me in place. Holding me against him. I was matching his tongue stroke for stroke. Suddenly my own hand was tugging at his shirt, pulling it free from his waistband. When had my hand moved? I couldn’t think rationally. All I could do was feel; all I could think was Colton. His lips were on my neck and I moaned softly. I pushed him back onto the bed. When did we get to the bed?
He looked up at me, his eyes half lidded as I moved forward to straddle him, my dress allowing the movement easily. A low growl came from him as he pulled me towards him, his hand running up my leg, inching under my dress, reaching round to cup my ass. I felt cool air on my back as he unzipped my dress, one hand running down my bare back. His lips were on mine again and I was panting with need as I started to unbutton his shirt. I was kissing him back, pushing into him, I could feel his hard body under me. I was suddenly eager for him to take this further, whatever this was. I needed him so badly.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” The voice was cold. The voice was hard. The voice was like a bucket of cold water drenching me. The voice was Connor’s.
I jerked away from Cole like I’d been scalded. Connor glared at us both, accusation ripe in his eyes, then he turned on his heel and stormed off. Cole cursed and pushed me off him. He was after his brother in seconds, pausing for a moment to glance back at me sitting in a heap on the floor. Then he was gone. Matt came back into the room, took one look at me and stopped dead. I flinched when he said my name like it was an accusation.
“Zip me up?” I asked as I stood up and tried to straighten my clothes. I was shaking. Matt didn’t say a word, just zipped my dress. I was decent, at least on the outside. Then, without another word, Matt left too.
I needed to get out of here. I descended the stairs and found my dad sitting with my Grandparents. I said the words that broke my heart.
“Can I come stay with you? I can’t be here anymore. I need to get away.” Of course, they said yes. My Gran hugged me, I was so close to breaking at that point that I had to pull away before the tears came.
I had never been to Scotland. We left first thing in the morning, before the sun had properly risen. Jake Dawson saw us off; his sons were nowhere to be seen. I don’t think he’d told them we were going. I know I hadn’t. I avoided his eyes as I got in the car, aware my dad was thanking him for his generosity.
Jake knew what had happened. I had no doubt of it. He knew in the way a CEO makes a point of knowing everything that happens in his business. Not because he cared but because he felt it was his right to know. He knew I had crossed a line, a line that should never have be crossed. When my dad finally stopped thanking him, we drove off, I didn’t look back.
My mother’s mocking laughter was echoing in my head.
“You’re no better than me.” I flinched at the irony of the final words my mother ever said to me.
“You’re no better than me.”
Aberdeen was right on the coast of the North Sea and I was quite happy to get lost in the sweeping countryside. My Gran was the perfect mother. I genuinely don’t know how my own mother had been so awful – it wasn’t because of this woman. She was everything a mother should be.
I adored her and she loved me and told me so every day. My grandfather, or Papa as I called him, was wonderful as well. I idolised him as I knew he wasn’t as blind to the many faults my mother had which my Gran seemed to be oblivious to. There were pictures all over their home of my mother and my aunt. In the beginning, everywhere I looked she was staring at me. Laughing. I would hear the whispers of her voice in my head – her accusations ringing in my ears. Thankfully Papa had taken her pictures down after the second day. He hadn’t asked me or my dad or spoken to either of us about it. He’d just done it. Gran had protested, but he had smiled, nodded, patted her hand and boxed them up anyway. Gran had frowned but hadn’t said anything else.
My aunt, however, remained on display. I would look at her, study her; it really was quite alarming how much I looked like her. A stranger would have thought these were my pictures, but anyone looking closely would see the love and life in her eyes. I knew my own grey eyes had long since dulled, the spark gone.
We stayed at my grandparents for a month before my dad moved us back to his home town of Dearborn Heights, just outside Detroit. He had been tolerant of our time with my grandparents but insisted that the time had come for us to move on and start fresh. The house back in Montana was on the market for sale. Neither of us were willing to go back there. I hadn’t agreed with him – I was quite happy at my grandparents’. Scotland was a beautiful country and it wasn’t tainted with my memories of what had happened. But I was in my senior year, I needed to be in school. I had a pretty strong record, but too much time away would hurt me academically. We said goodbye to my grandparents, as well as the peace and calm I had gotten used to, and boarded a plane back to the U.S., to Michigan, though dad didn’t really want to be back there. He had been happy to leave it all those years ago, but it seemed like going back to something familiar was all he could think to do. We rented a small house until dad found us something more permanent within the city. However, he had to find a job, so he left that first Fri
day after we’d moved back to go interview for a car salesman position in Northville, which was somewhere smaller where we wouldn’t get swallowed up in the crowds. Dad’s words, not mine – I was content to get lost in the crowd.
He had asked me to go with him, but I’d said no, I wanted to try my hand in the small garden at the back of our rented house. There was no way of knowing how long it would take for our house in Big Sky to sell; I wasn’t counting on another move so soon. Papa had tried teaching me to garden during our time in Scotland. I wasn’t any good at it, but I’d been happy to entertain him in my ignorance.
Dad sighed as he left, hugging me and promising a full report on his return. I’d laughed and waved as I’d headed out back, trowel at the ready.
I’d been at it for an hour or so when I heard a distant rumbling of thunder and went inside as a freak thunderstorm rolled in from nowhere. One minute blue skies and the next thundering darkness and flashes of lightning. Now here I was, shuffling about the kitchen trying to recreate my Gran’s delicious carrot and coriander soup. She’d started to teach me the art of making soup during my time with them. My mind had been blown. Real life homemade soup. If my mother made soup it had been because it only ever took 2 minutes from carton to bowl to microwave. Dad would need something warm when he got back from his job interview.
My dad called me. Rain was pelting down where he was, so he was going to a coffee shop to wait it out. I asked if he was ok and he reassured me he was. I asked about the job and he said he would talk to me about it when he came home. I told him to take it easy and not drive in the rain. I repeated the words although I knew he had heard. He hung up after telling me he loved me. I liked that he told me this almost as much as my Gran did.
I sighed. I wanted to tell him that home was anywhere he was, but he was keen to get me a home. Something permanent. A real fresh start for us both.
The storm lasted over an hour. The electricity went out, so I went to the couch and curled up with my e-reader. Although the thunder and lightning had stopped, the downpour persisted. Dad was going to be a long time in the coffee shop, which was ironic really since he didn’t like hot drinks. Not liking coffee made me suspicious of anyone. Good thing I loved him.
I sighed and looked at the time on the new phone I’d gotten the day after getting to Scotland. That’s when the calls had started. Colton, Connor, Matt, Theo. I didn’t know what to say to them, so I’d been a coward and changed my number. I was a cheating coward though. I’d kept their numbers. I couldn’t completely let go. Every now and then I would look up their names and almost dial. Then I would hear her in my head. Her whisper of “worthless little tramp” and the phone would be shoved back in my pocket. Dad had changed his number too, when they’d started calling him instead.
4.30. Over three hours he had been gone. He was going to have to start paying rent if he stayed there any longer.
The doorbell rang. Who would ring the bell? No one knew us here. That sense of foreboding was back – my feet didn’t move. My stomach dropped. I reluctantly made my way to the door as the bell rang again. As soon as I saw the officer, my heart stopped. I opened the door and greeted him. He spoke. I could see that his lips were moving but I didn’t hear a word he said. He spoke to me again. I shook my head. Why couldn’t I hear him? Why was the rain so loud?
The officer looked at me and sighed before physically moving me back. He was in the house. He had been getting pelted by the relentless rain and looked utterly miserable. I stood there in the entrance with no electricity and a dripping wet police officer looking at me with the aid of a flashlight. As I realised he was looking at me with a flashlight, I suddenly registered the words he had been saying.
Freak accident. Drunk driver. The car had skidded in the rain and smashed through the coffee shop window. The driver had survived. My dad was gone.
They sedated me. Apparently, whatever was already broken inside me had completely shattered at the news. They hadn’t been able to stop me screaming. I tried but I just couldn’t keep the pain inside. They gave me a nice sedative and a warm hospital bed and it was lights out for Arielle. My Gran and Papa flew in from Scotland.
I refused to go to my dad’s service. I couldn’t do it. I just stayed in my room in the rented house and festered in my grief. Gran kept trying to get me to call the guys. I almost did. I needed them so much. Needed their collective strength. Then I recalled the last time I had leaned on them. I didn’t call. I was so scared they wouldn’t come. I didn’t have it in me to open myself up to that possibility.
They cremated my dad. It was what he’d asked for in his will.
I got paid a small sum in compensation from the coffee shop. It was an independent shop and I doubted they could afford it. I even tried not to take it, but the owner said that he’d heard I lost my mother just over a month before, he wouldn’t hear of me having nothing. Dad had life insurance, too, so I got more money from that. The house sold in Big Sky which came as a surprise to us all. I was suddenly comfortable financially.
I needed to leave here – I couldn’t stay at the place where I’d lost my dad. I didn’t want to go back to my grandparents’ either, the place with my mother’s memories. I decided to look at colleges. Gran and I went through school choices together. Based on my school records alone, two colleges said they would give me late acceptance if I finished high school with a high enough GPA. One was across the country in California, where Colton was and Connor would be heading. The other was a two-and-a-half-hour flight from where I was now. My academic performance had slipped over the last few months, which I thought was understandable. Thankfully so did the two colleges.
Boulder, Colorado called to me.
I threw myself into schoolwork, I lost weight, I couldn’t sleep. I worked hard and it paid off. I got accepted into CU to do a Bachelor of Arts in English, which would let me take a Creative Writing track. They also had a Masters in Creative Writing.
I told my grandparents I wanted to buy a place off campus, that I didn’t want the normal college life – parties, friends. I didn’t need it. Everything I ever had, I had lost. They reluctantly agreed and we all went to Boulder to look for places for me to live. Papa didn’t like that I bought the apartment, but I argued about the investment opportunity for when I graduated; I could rent it out to students. Gran actually said it made sense – the University of Colorado had a huge student population; someone would always be looking to rent.
I packed up and moved again. I told my grandparents that I didn’t need them to help me move. They needed to grieve too. They’d spent enough time away from their own home. I was going to be completely alone and I was ok with that. As I headed to my new life, they flew back to Scotland. What had happened over the last few months hadn’t just happened to me.
Before I left Dearborn Heights, I slid a cheque through the mail slot in the coffee shop’s door with a letter explaining I couldn’t take their money. With that done, I set off on my three day drive with my belongings packed tight into my ‘new to me’ MINI Cooper and a resolve to have a new outlook on life.
I settled into the new apartment relatively quickly. Furnishing it with what I needed gave me a chance to learn my way around Boulder. My apartment was set outwith the main city area; but it was within walking distance if I was feeling extra energetic. I was in no way a health buff, but I kept active enough. Being a little out of the city was doable. I had a second-hand bike if I needed on days when my feet weren’t up to the 45-minute walk to campus.
Being off campus was important to me. It took me away from the dorms and the numerous distractions. I didn’t want anything to interfere with my studies.
It was only once I was sitting on my new couch – the last piece of furniture to arrive – that I realised I was really alone. My hand reached for my phone. I looked at the numbers, took a deep breath and called Matt. He was the safest – I didn’t know what to say to Colton, I was scared to talk to Connor and Theo would have told them I was on the phone within s
econds. Matt was the best option.
He picked up on the third ring. “Hello?” His voice was questioning. I had withheld the number, so he wouldn’t be able to save it. Like the coward I was.
“Hi Matt, it’s Elle.” My throat was dry and hoarse sounding.
“Holy shit girl, where the hell are you? We’ve been trying to find you. You took off without even a goodbye.” He was peeved and speaking low; I figured one of the others must have been nearby. They had been looking for me; I felt warmth radiate in me, then a feeling of dread. Calling had been a bad idea.
“I’m ok. I just wanted to see if you were ok – if everyone was ok.” I rushed it out. If I said it fast, then I wouldn’t think about it.
Matt sighed. I knew his hand would be running through his hair. “I’m fine. They’re fine. Well they are now, it was rough for a while but they’re ok. Where are you?” He sounded intense. He was also louder. I realised he must have moved away from whoever he was with.
I looked out the window of my new apartment and around the room at my stuff; I was supposed to be starting new, fresh, leaving the past behind me.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called, I just wanted to hear it was all ok. Don’t tell them I called. Miss you Matty.” I hung up. I cried for about an hour. Then I deleted all the contacts. I wasn’t looking back anymore.
I opened the car door in the blistering late summer heat and started to get out. I was already regretting wearing jeans on a day like today. The sun had been at melting point when I got up this morning. Why I had opted for jeans and a camisole for a party by the lake was beyond me, but I hadn’t felt comfortable wearing a skirt or shorts. I shook my head ruefully as I closed the door behind me. My friend Robbie was already at the trunk getting our stuff together. I had met him on the first day on campus at the book store. We had run into each other – literally. He had come around the corner and ran smack into me, knocking me, my coffee and my newly acquired books to the ground.
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