by Marika Ray
I rubbed my chin, thinking it through. “I just want her to be happy. I thought for so long that us being together would do that, but maybe I’m just delusional. Maybe it’s not possible for her and me to be happy at the same time.” I snorted. “Besides, her dad’s not too happy with us being together, so maybe it’s all for the best.”
“I don’t think we can solve this for you, but we’re here for you, man.” Bain nodded at me.
I tried to smile back. “Thanks. I’m not even sure if we’re broken up, but based on the radio silence all week, I’d guess that’s a yes.”
Jayden clapped his hands, startling me. “I know what you need to pick yourself back up. It’s time for your dare.”
I grimaced while the other guys whooped and hollered. “That’s definitely not what I need.”
“Yep, it really is. Nothing like a dare to shake things up and get you out of a funk.” Bain stood and headed to Jayden’s chair, conferring with him in a whisper I couldn’t quite hear.
Bain and Jayden had started all the dare foolishness, bringing it to our group when they moved to Auburn Hill. The guys all whispered like a bunch of girls with a secret while I poked a stick at the roaring fire. They could dare me all they wanted. Didn’t mean I’d do it. Although shaking things up sounded pretty good right about then.
Bain, the leader of the dares, turned to address me, his eyes gleaming. “Okay, here’s our dare. Shave your head. Time to retire the mullet.”
My hands instantly went up into my hair like they could stave off the razor. “But I like it,” I whined.
Rip smirked. “We know. But it’s time to show off a new Titus. Girls always do this shit, so it must work. New hair, new life. It’s totally a thing.”
I pet the back of my hair that hung over my neck. “I’ll give it some thought.”
Bain whipped something out of his pocket with an evil smile. It vibrated to life in his hands. “I even brought a razor.”
Fuck. I was trapped. The guys crowded around me as Bain approached, the razor outstretched like a weapon. He paused with it a foot away from my head. That fucker must have been planning it all along. Get me out to a remote bonfire and outnumber me.
“Do you accept our dare?”
There must have been a little alcohol still left in my system at that point because a surge of defiance crashed like a tidal wave. It absolutely was time for a new Titus. One who didn’t base his life choices around Amelia. One who fearlessly went after his dreams whether she was along for the ride or not. Now I knew why Amelia tagged the Welcome to Auburn Hill sign. The adrenaline rush was powerful, indeed.
“New hair, new me, boys.”
Rip and Jayden yelled so loud the seagulls vacated the area around us with a loud squawk. Charlie clapped me on the shoulder in support, or maybe it was to hold me still, because in the next second, Bain’s razor was gliding along my scalp and pieces of my golden hair were falling in my lap. With each piece that fell away, I felt like I was shedding the weight of living my life for Amelia. I still loved her—hell, in my heart I knew I always would—but I wasn’t going to wait for her any longer. If she wanted me, she’d have to chase me because I was ready to find a wife, build a family, a home. I was ready to settle into my life. Sans mullet.
When Bain was done, I ran my hand over my head, feeling that he’d left a decent buzz on the sides with the hair a little longer on top. But the back of my neck was conspicuously hair-free.
“Dude, you got a mullet tan,” Rip snickered.
I shoved him, a smile on my face despite the way my heart still limped along. “Shut the hell up. And we’re not done here. I’ve got a dare of my own to complete.”
Bain tilted his head, putting the razor back in his pocket. “Like what?”
I stood and rubbed my hands together, the idea coming together in startling clarity. “I know a great place just one town over that’s still open. My virgin skin is getting a tattoo tonight.”
Charlie. “Oh, boy…”
“You’re gonna regret that,” Jayden muttered.
I grinned from ear to ear. “Nah. It’s just what I need.”
24
Amelia
It turns out drinking your heartache away only works when the guy was a dirtbag who deserved to be forgotten about. Alcohol only pronounced the shit you messed up when you regretted the breakup. Also, burying yourself in work wasn’t a viable solution either, especially when you’ve trained your staff so well they could run the hotel without you. Tommy kept kicking me out of the kitchen for trying to wash the dishes. I only broke two plates and five bowls. It wasn’t that bad.
“Well, Big Foot. Looks like it’s just you and me now,” I said to the hotel cat as I sank into the lounge chair in my room.
He gave me a look I couldn’t decipher and then proceeded to lift a leg straight in the air and lick his balls. I grimaced, utterly disgusted with my life. My friends had tried to call me all week long, hearing of the breakup through the gossip channels alive and well in Auburn Hill. I hadn’t returned even one of them. And so here it was a Friday night with me watching a grown male cat groom himself.
Oh, how the prideful had fallen.
My heart lurched in my chest and my eyes started to burn. I glanced over at the vodka bottle I’d done some damage with earlier in the week. The very thought of that made my stomach churn, so I pushed the idea out of my head. Left with nothing to medicate my heartache, I did what all girls do when they were backed into a corner emotionally.
I called my mama.
Which was how I found myself walking through the front door of my childhood home a little before eight on a Friday night.
“Mom? I’m home!” I called out.
A flurry of swinging hair, long limbs, and way too much perfume came around the corner of the living room. For a second there, my heart lifted, thinking my sisters were coming to buoy me up. Instead, the two of them, Esme and Vee, pushed me out of the way and flew out the door.
“Sorry, we’re late, talk later, love you!” they shouted over their shoulders.
My mom came around the corner at a much slower pace, a patient smile born from years of dealing with a gaggle of rambunctious girls.
“Hey, baby. What’s got you visiting me on the weekend without a guilt trip from your mama?” She pulled me into a hug that smelled of home and youth and a simpler time. I gave into all the emotions being held back by the world’s strongest emotional dam and hugged her back tightly, refusing to let go until she started chuckling and pulling my arms off her.
I swiped at my eyes, surprised as hell to find them overflowing. Swallowing hard, I tried to answer her, but nothing came out.
“Oh, honey, come here.” Mom took me by the arm and led me to the couch where she snuggled me under her arm like I was five again, rocking me as my damn eyes malfunctioned.
“Am I an attention whore?” I finally managed to ask between sniffles.
Mom chuckled, the bounce of her laughter jiggling my head as it lay on her shoulder. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t put it that way, but yes. You’ve always loved the spotlight. Don’t you remember quitting tap dance when they wouldn’t give you a solo part? It was a solo or nothing for you.”
I sat up and snagged a tissue off the coffee table to wipe my cheeks. “Really?”
Mom smiled tenderly. “I always figured it was your ‘middle child’ status that made you crave the attention.”
I frowned. “But I’m not really the middle child.”
Mom tilted her head. “Well, Oakley is the firstborn. You’re the second, but Esme and Izzy are twins, which gives them a special bond. And Vee being the baby gives her the spotlight naturally. I figured you were always searching for a way to stand out among so many girls.”
I digested that explanation, thinking she was probably right. “But have I missed things because I was always trying to get attention?”
“Where’s all this coming from, honey?”
I sat back on the couch and folded my
arms across my chest. “Titus and I broke up.”
“Ah.” Mom spun to face me, curling her legs up under her. “I heard about that, but figured you’d come tell me about it when you were ready. I take it there was some discussion about your attention-seeking ways?”
I snorted. “Yeah. He said I never truly saw him. Or us. But how can that be right? He was my best friend. Of course I saw him.”
“I can’t speak to your relationship with Titus. That’s between you and him. But I can tell you as your mother that no matter how much attention we gave you over the years, it would never be enough. And maybe that’s on me for never making things clear to you.” She grabbed my hand and pressed it between hers. “Stop looking for external validation. You’re perfect, exactly as you are, Amelia Waldo. No one is going to come around and hand out medals for perfection. Give yourself the medal and move on to a bigger and better life where you aren’t chasing approval and attention from everyone else. It’ll be a much nicer life, I promise you. Now if you don’t mind, I have some brownies to make.”
With that bomb dropped, she stood and walked off to the kitchen without a backward glance. Sympathy session from Mom was over, I guessed. Her words bounced around inside my head, bumping up against defensive thoughts and bruised ego alike. If my stomach clenched any harder, I might find myself running to the bathroom in a hurry.
Had I always longed to be seen like Mom said?
Had I been so obsessed with everyone looking at me that I missed truly seeing everyone else?
I scrubbed my hands over my cheeks and looked around the room I’d spent my entire childhood in. The recliners that had been replaced recently now that us girls were out of the house. The worn carpet that Mom carefully steam cleaned every year, but had seen its fair share of spilled nail polish, tears of angsty teen girls, and sleepovers involving forbidden snacks ground into the fibers. Even the dark wood coffee table that still sported a ring where I’d carelessly put the cap to the nail polish remover bottle and bleached out the wood stain. Normally Mom put the photo album over it so no one could see the defect.
Leaning forward, I flipped the album cover open and gazed at the first picture: a family photo at the Grand Canyon when Vee was barely walking. I was miniature sized, already channeling my inner Britney both in looks and attitude. The memory of the vacation, in all its ups and downs, made my aching heart mend just a tiny bit. The next page held a photo of Titus and me in junior high. I was sitting on his shoulders, my hands raised in the air and a huge grin on my face. His hands were on my legs to make sure I didn’t fall, his gaze lifted up at me, not caring who was taking the photo.
The stinging in my eyes came back. I flipped the page despite the ache that intensified seeing how happy we used to be together. The next photo was the whole family in the backyard, having a funeral for Izzy’s goldfish who died because she forgot to feed it one too many times. Dad wore his dress uniform and Mom had bought a single long-stemmed rose to lay on the tiny mound of dirt. Titus stood next to me, his hand on my back, looking far more serious than my bratty little smirk at my sister.
And so it went from there. Titus appeared in almost every family picture, next to me, behind me, his hand on me or his arm slung over my shoulders. Usually his face was angled in my direction and not at the camera. I whimpered out loud at the realization. How could I have missed that all these years? How did I not know that I was his sole focus? That he’d do anything for me, stopping at nothing to make me smile?
Not able to stand the crushing weight that descended on my chest with each picture I studied, I flipped to the back of the album. One final picture at my high school graduation. My whole family clustered around Titus and me, his arm around my shoulders and a huge grin on both our faces. He’d been pissed that we had to sit according to our last names. Waldo wasn’t anywhere near Jackson. We’d just tossed our caps into the air when he’d raced over to my side, wanting to celebrate with me more than his own family. They’d eventually found us, but Titus hadn’t seemed to care.
He’d just wanted to be with me.
I slammed the album shut and curled up into the worn couch, letting the tears come. I was such an asshole. A real bitch for standing on Titus’s shoulders all these years and never acknowledging him in a way that was meaningful. I’d taken his support and friendship for granted. I’d taken his love for granted, like it was an offer of a free mimosa at a buffet line. Nice, but not special. He wasn’t a free drink. He was a complete feast that would last my entire lifetime.
Well, if I hadn’t gone and screwed things up.
“Fuck!” I said out loud, wishing I could punch something.
“Watch your mouth, young lady,” came my mother’s reprimand from the kitchen.
“Sorry, Mom.”
I kept swiping at my cheeks, but more tears raced down to coat them in moisture. My nose was running and I bet I looked an absolute mess, but none of that even mattered. All that mattered was finding Titus and making things right. Or at the very least, apologizing. Groveling if I had to.
I hopped off the couch, no plan in mind, but a desperate need to see him. I raced out of the room, only to come to a screeching halt when Mom blocked my path to the front door.
“Where are you going so fast?” She held a wooden spoon in one hand, chocolate dripping down her arm.
“Titus. Apologize.” Shit, I wasn’t even capable of full sentences.
Mom tilted her head and had that expression I’d learned to hate growing up. She was about to drop some common sense that would piss me off. I could just feel it.
“I know you want to apologize, but let’s think this through from his perspective. You apologizing now would just be to make yourself feel less guilty. And that’s not what that young man needs or deserves. He needs you to apologize to make him feel better. When you can do that, then you should go see him. Until then, stay and have some brownies when they’re out of the oven.”
She spun and headed back into the kitchen, humming under her breath like my life wasn’t falling apart at the seams. I blinked, the tears finally stopping. Probably too stunned by her correct assessment of the current situation to keep dripping.
I really hated when Mom was right.
I sighed, the desperation dialing down a notch into a simmering, slow boil that could last awhile. “I’m headed back to the hotel, Mom. I have some thinking to do.”
“Suit yourself. I’ll call you in the morning,” she said over her shoulder, giving me a wink.
I climbed in my car and thumbed out a text to my Hell Raisers before starting it up and heading to the hotel.
Amelia: I’ve fucked up royally and need my girls. Will you help me?
The phone screen lit up almost instantly on the seat next to me, but I didn’t read their responses until I parked in the rear lot of the hotel and worked up the nerve to read them. Amelia Waldo rarely sent out an SOS and I was more than a bit nervous they wouldn’t jump to help me. Which was stupid because I’d jump to help any of them. Logically, I knew they’d come to my rescue, and yet the worry was still there.
I’d missed so many things when it came to Titus. Had I missed things with my girlfriends too? Did they think I was too self-absorbed to be a good friend? I no longer trusted my version of past events. My blinders had been ripped off and I was dazed and bewildered in this bright new land.
Lucy: Where are you?
Hazel: Shall I bring vodka or tequila?
Finnie: Do I need my medical bag or a shovel?
Lenora: I doubt my stash of sex toys will help, but I’ve got two good shoulders to cry on.
Reading their responses, I sob-laughed, the kind of outburst that sent snot flying in all directions. Thankfully, I was all by myself.
As soon as I could see through the tears welling up, I thumbed out a reply.
Amelia: Hotel, vodka, medical bag for the hangover, and I need your lovely brain, Lenora.
I went to shove my car door open when movement in the trees nearby caught my
eye. What appeared to be a woman and a man, stood in the shadows of the empty lot next door, their arms flapping around in the heat of the moment. I leaned closer and strained my eyes.
Then I gasped.
It was M. Smith in the flesh. Back in Hell. And if that wasn’t Mayor Bennett, he must have a twin I didn’t know about.
Grabbing my cell phone, I tried to take a picture, zooming in and snapping away, knowing they wouldn’t turn out. Dammit! Why hadn’t I thought to get night vision goggles or a special spy camera?
A minute later, they moved away, traipsing through the wooded area like weirdos. What was going on around here? Anyone who meets in the dark like that is up to something. Either an affair or something far sinister. And I’d get to the bottom of it, even if it killed me.
Wait, that was a poor phrase.
I didn’t want to actually die finding out what the mayor was up to, what with this situation with Titus needing to be resolved, but I’d try real hard. Maybe just short of bodily harm. Yeah, that was better.
I got out of the car and ran around to the front of the hotel, heading straight for the front desk and firing up the computer to check our reservations. Just as I suspected, M. Smith was not staying with us tonight. I think I would have remembered if anyone had made a reservation under that name. However, there was an M. Lizz who had checked in while I was at my parents’ house. She was in room 2G, just down that hall from my room. Now I really wished I’d picked up some spy shit. I would’ve bugged the hell out of that room beforehand. Probably illegal, but I was sure there was some gray area.
My brain felt like it might explode. I had two big situations on my hands and as much as I needed my entire brain to focus on getting Titus and me back on solid ground, I couldn’t look away from the fact that there was something sinister going on in Auburn Hill. Titus was right. I couldn’t do everything on my own. I needed to ask for help.