by S. M. Shade
Landon face softens as he asks, “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Just dealing with the funeral arrangements and stuff. My friend Frannie has been a big help.”
“If there’s anything I can do, let me know.” His arms wrap around me in a hug that should be awkward, but isn’t. I find myself squeezing him back, breathing in his warm scent. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I haven’t seen them in years. Makes things easier.”
“In some ways. But grief can sneak up on you.” I step back, and he hands me an envelope. “Take the week off.”
It’s next Friday’s check. He’s giving me a paid week off. “I don’t need that much time,” I protest.
“Well, you have it if you need it. Please, call me if there’s anything else I can do. Or if you just don’t want to be alone.”
His sweet unexpected response puts tears in my eyes for the first time since I found out. “Thank you. I should get to Ethan.”
He walks me to my car, then waves to Ethan before he leaves. Ethan gives me a sideways grin. “Dating the boss?”
“What? No!” I slap his shoulder.
“Come on, I know that look. That guy is crazy about you.”
“You’re insane,” I reply, pulling onto the highway.
“Whatever you say.” I kind of want to slap the knowing smile from his face. He’s sixteen. What the hell does he know? Too much, obviously.
Our favorite ice cream shop is only a few blocks away, and the wind makes it too chilly to sit at the outdoor tables, so we head back home with our milkshakes. Ethan disappears into his room. I’m worried about him, but the sound of him laughing into his microphone tells me he’s on a game with his friends. Maybe he is okay. Today has seemed endless, so after draining my chocolate shake, I drag my ass to bed.
My phone wakes me the next morning when it beeps with a voicemail from the funeral director letting me know he has the copies of the death certificate I need. I guess I can stop by there on my way to my parents’ house.
I wake Ethan and we each shovel down a bowl of cereal before heading out. He’s too young to have to deal with this stuff, but I’m glad to have him with me.
A knot forms in my stomach when I pull into the driveway of the home where I grew up. Judging by the look on Ethan’s face, he isn’t thrilled to be here either. There aren’t many happy memories here. “You don’t have to go in.”
He shakes his head. “I’m okay. I want to see if any of my old stuff is here.” Like me, Ethan moved with nothing but a trash bag full of clothes. The house keys were in the bag of personal effects that I was given by the coroner, so there’s no problem getting inside.
It’s been five years since I’ve entered this house, and I’m struck by how much it smells the same. Other than some new furniture, not much has changed. Ethan bounds upstairs, and I head down the hall to what used to be my room. It now holds a sewing machine and baskets of material. The large walk-in closet holds more sewing supplies, but I find a stack of boxes against the wall. They’re full of trophies, awards, and pictures that belonged to me and Ethan. At least they didn’t throw everything away.
“Well, my room now holds a pool table,” Ethan says from behind me. “I guess they tossed everything.”
“Not everything. Help me get these boxes.”
Huffing and puffing, we load them in the car. “They manage to keep me in a closet one way or another,” Ethan mutters, looking pissed. “What are we going to do with all their stuff?”
“Give it to charity, I guess. I’ll start packing it up this week since I’ve got the week off. Once it’s cleaned out, we’ll get a realtor to put it on the market.”
He nods. “I’ll be right back.” He makes his way to the backyard and I give him a few minutes before following him.
Our old swing set and sandbox are still here. Ethan sits on the deck, staring across the yard. I throw my arm across his shoulder. “Want to tell me what’s running through your head?”
His lips turn up. “Most of my good childhood memories are out here. They left us alone. Do you remember playing out here? Catching lightning bugs? Playing on the swings?”
“Of course I do. I remember getting you down from that tree more than once when you climbed too high and then got scared.” I gesture to the large oak with a laugh.
“Give me a break. I was seven,” he defends with a grin.
“We don’t have to sell this place.”
He shakes his head. “No, we should. The bad outweighs the good. I’m happy to leave this place behind if you are.”
“Far behind,” I agree.
* * * *
The funeral is two days later and after much inner debate, Ethan and I attend. The snubbing response we receive from the other mourners isn’t a surprise. Everyone here is from their church and well versed on how evil the Page family children are. It doesn’t matter. We’re just doing our duty here.
As soon as the coffins are lowered, Ethan grabs my hand. “Can we go?”
He’s trying to hold it together, but the stress is clear on his face. Tears stream down his cheeks when I pull him into a hug. “It’s stupid,” he chokes. “I shouldn’t care.”
“Don’t say that. It’s not stupid. You’re a better person than they could ever be. It’s okay to care and to grieve.”
“I just want to go.”
“Okay.” We’re almost to my car when Dare approaches us. What the hell? “What are you doing here?”
“Landon asked me to come and see how you are. He…couldn’t make it.”
With a sigh, I step around him and he follows me. “Does he always send you to do his dirty work?”
“Hey.” Dare grabs my shoulder. Ethan looks back at us, confused, and I wave at him to get in the car. “He’s worried about you. And no, he’s never asked me to check on anyone before. I’m sorry about your parents.”
“Thank you. You can tell Landon I’m fine. Thanks for coming.” This time when I walk away, he doesn’t follow.
I spend the next few days packing and boxing up my parents’ belongings. Ethan helps me donate most of the clothing and household items to the homeless shelter that helped us. At least we can give a little back.
Ethan leaves for a school trip on Thursday, and by Friday, I can’t stand to be home anymore. It leaves me too much time to think. I haven’t told Ethan about the life insurance money because it’s just too good to believe it’s true. I’ll tell him when we actually have the money. Until then, I have to go back to work.
If I’m being honest, I’ve missed Landon. It’s screwed up, I know. We agreed to be friends, but he’s still my boss and I shouldn’t be so attached. That doesn’t change the fact that I have a smile on my face as I unlock his front door.
He comes out of his office and gazes at me in surprise. “Zoe? I didn’t expect you back yet.”
Glancing around the room, I grin. “But it looks like you need me.” An empty chicken bucket sits on top of a pizza box on the coffee table. Has he eaten nothing but fast food all week?
“I can survive. Really, take the time to be with your family.”
“Thanks for being concerned, but Ethan is my only family, and we’re doing fine. Sitting around my apartment isn’t going to help anything.”
“If you’re sure,” he murmurs. “Would you mind starting in the library?”
He’s acting strange. And the reason just walked in. A thin brunette wearing nothing but panties stumbles into the room and says, “There you are, baby. You coming back to bed?”
A pang I have no business feeling makes me wince. It’s his house and we aren’t involved. It’s none of my business who he fucks. “Sorry, I’ll just get started on the library,” I mumble, making a quick retreat.
I don’t know whether to get to work or leave. He probably doesn’t want me here today. I’m just turning to leave when Landon steps into the library. “I’m really sorry. I know you told me to take the week off and you weren’t expecting me. I’ll just come back Monday,” I babb
le, pissed at myself for feeling jealous at the thought of him going back to bed with that woman.
“Don’t be ridiculous. She just left.” He brushes a lock of hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean for her to still be here. Guess I fell asleep.”
“Not my business who you sleep with,” I reply.
His smile is mischievous. “Then why are you upset? You jealous?”
“I’m not jealous of some bar skank. Your pursuit of STD’s is your own business. Now, do you want me to get to work in here or not?”
“Are you still seeing Mr. Nice and Proper?”
“Who?”
He shakes his head at my confusion. “The guy you were kissing a few weeks ago.”
Why does he give a shit who I kiss? “Not that it’s any of your concern, but no. Are we done discussing shit that has nothing to do with my employment?”
“You mean stuff friends discuss,” he retorts, and I want to slap the cocky smile from his face.
“Well, I’m done talking about it.”
“Fine, Ms. Difficult. I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be out of your way in a couple of hours.”
Finally, he leaves me alone with my roiling thoughts. I could’ve handled that better.
Chapter Six
Landon
She was jealous! Part of me is happier than a dog with three balls. It’s good to know I’m not the only one struggling to avoid feeling anything. It doesn’t change our situation, though, and I really don’t want to spend the night at home with her glaring at me. As soon as it’s dark, I head over to Dare’s to see what he’s up to.
“Raisin! Come on in. I need someone else to witness this or no one will ever believe me,” Dare exclaims, before I can even get through the door. It’s Friday night, so Justus is probably working his stripper job, but maybe I can get Dare or Jeremy to go out and get trashed.
“Witness what?”
He leads me to his empty bedroom and puts a finger to his lips. “Just shut up and listen.” Through the wall, I can hear a faint buzzing noise. “Neighbor chick is getting it on with her vibrator.”
Jesus, this guy. “It’s probably an electric razor, you fucking pervert.”
“Just keep listening.” A small cry is barely audible, but there’s no doubt it’s erotic. “See, couple of times a week I hear her, usually when I’m trying to sleep.”
“So, you’re ear stalking your neighbor? Do you even know what she looks like?” He follows me back to the living room and we flop onto his couch.
“Only from a distance. Smokin’ body with an ass I want to bite. She’s a homebody, though. Hardly ever see her out.”
“You fuck her and you’ll be sorry. Won’t be able to get away from her.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “Wasn’t planning on it. Got some ass on its way over now.”
Damn, so much for getting him out of the house. “Lucky bastard. Guess I’ll head to Chaos and see what I can pull. Any word on the guy at the farm?”
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s looking for him. Family pretty much disowned him when he went to prison. His P.O. will probably think he bailed.”
“Good. All right, I’m out. See you, man.” Rain pelts me as I make a mad dash for my car. I’m torn between just calling it a night and trying to smooth things over with Zoe, or drinking my problems away. Drinking wins. It usually does.
There’s not much action at Chaos tonight, probably because of the rainy weather. Sipping my drink, I try to forget the disgusted look on Zoe’s face when I left. Why should she care if I fuck a different woman every week? And why the hell do I care that she finds me disgusting?
She doesn’t know me or my situation. With my restrictions, I can’t have a normal relationship, so what am I supposed to do? Never get laid? Friends. That’s what we agreed. My sex life is none of her concern.
Right. So I need to stop obsessing over what Ms. Difficult thinks, and the blonde smiling at me from the dance floor should do the trick. My phone buzzes with a call from Jeremy, and I step outside to answer. “Landon, where are you?”
“Just got to Chaos. You coming out tonight?”
“Nah, I’m seeing Frannie. You watching the weather?”
“At the club?” I snort. “No, why?”
“It’s getting ready to storm like a bitch. There’s already been one tornado touch down in Beech Grove, and they’re predicting more. Shit…sirens are going off now.”
The western sky is ominous and full of lightning. “I’m going home. Thanks for the heads up.” I usually wouldn’t pay any attention to severe storms, but Zoe is alone at my house. I’ve never shown her the basement and I don’t think there’s a siren in my neighborhood to warn her what’s coming. The call drops and I can’t get a signal. A tower must’ve went down.
The drive home is an adventure as the storm picks up. Trees and power lines topple into the road thanks to the strong winds. Torrential rain falls in sheets and quarter size hail pelts me while I run to my front door.
“Zoe!” I call, brushing water from my eyes and flipping on the T.V.
“Yeah?” She rounds the corner, confusion wrinkling her forehead. The National Weather Service breaks into programming with a tornado warning for our county, and when it’s tossed back to the local meteorologist, he adds, “I repeat, there are two confirmed tornadoes on the ground. If you’re in Marion County, take shelter immediately. If you don’t have a basement, move to the innermost room and…”
Before he can finish, I grab Zoe’s hand and drag her toward the kitchen. “We need to get to the basement.”
She comes along without an argument, and I usher her to the basement entrance. The back half of the kitchen and the basement were added on after the house was built. Instead of a regular basement door, there’s an access hatch in the floor of the pantry.
Zoe stands back while I pull it open, then follows me down the narrow stairs. When I flip on the light, she giggles. “Really? Another man cave?”
“I didn’t build this one. My uncle did. Stay put. I’ll be right back.”
I ignore her protests and dart back upstairs to gather a few supplies. Who knows how long the storm will last? There are a couple battery operated lanterns on the front closet floor and a box of candles and matches on the shelf. Thank you, Uncle Larry.
Zoe is perched on the edge of the sofa when I return. “This is the biggest basement I’ve ever seen,” she remarks. “I notice you’ve cleaned down here.”
“It’s nice isn’t it? Jeremy loves to play pool so we hang out here sometimes.” I gesture to the pool table in the center of the room. A large sofa rests against one wall and a full size refrigerator stands in the corner. Soft brown carpet blankets the floor.
“Yeah, not exactly the spidery dungeon I thought you were leading me into.” She peeks through the bathroom door before sitting on the sofa. “You even have a bathroom down here.”
“So trusting,” I tease, sitting beside her. She takes a deep breath and blinks a few times, a frown on her face. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just a little light headed.”
I feel it too, a faint dizziness. “Shit. Come on.” I grab her hand. “It’s the drop in air pressure. It’s coming.”
Fear widens her eyes. “A tornado?”
“Yeah, innermost wall,” I order and have her kneel against it. I crouch behind her and cover her body with mine. There are no windows to break, but who knows what might fly around if the hatch doesn’t hold. She’s so tiny, I don’t want her to get hurt.
“Landon,” she whimpers when a dull roar reaches our ears.
“We’ll be okay.” I have no idea if that’s true, but what else can I say?
The roar grows deafening, punctuated by terrifying sounds of breaking glass and shrieking wood. The electricity goes, leaving us in a pitch dark nightmare. Zoe trembles beneath me, and I squeeze her tighter, murmuring comforting words in her ear, though I doubt she can hear me.
After what feels like an eternity, but was probably less
than a minute, the roar fades, leaving only the sound of rain and our anxious breaths. Her hands grasp at me when I attempt to stand. “It’s over. I’m just going to grab a lantern. Stay right there.”
“Don’t leave me down here.”
“No, sweetheart.” She’s terrified. The quicker we can get some light and check out the damage, the better. Slowly, I feel my way to the table where I left the supplies. The battery operated lanterns are surprisingly bright. With one on each side of the room, they push back the darkness.
Zoe gets to her feet and moves to the couch, and I sit beside her, running my hand down her back. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Her voice is shaky.
“Let’s go see the damage.” She takes my hand, and I grab a lantern before we head up the stairs.
“I’m kind of scared you’re going to open the door and see the sky,” she confesses.
“We’re safe. That’s what matters. I can rebuild.” My first push on the trap door alerts me we’re in trouble. It won’t budge. No matter how hard I shove, it only opens about an inch. Water drips through the gap. Shit. That can’t be a good sign. Zoe’s stargazing fear may not be far off.
Her voice is small and fearful. “Are we trapped?”
Sighing, I sit on the step and pull her down beside me. “Looks like it.”
“No…we…what if the house collapsed on us? What if we’re buried?” She stands up and shoves the door.
“Stop.” I wrap my arms around her middle. “Listen to me. There’s plenty of snacks and water in the fridge. Even if it takes a bit for rescuers to dig us out, we’ll be fine.”
“We’re trapped,” she mumbles.
“With food, water, lights, and even a bathroom. There’s no reason to be afraid.”
Taking a deep breath, she swallows her panic and says, “I don’t have coverage. Can you get a signal down here?”
Good question. I grab my phone from my back pocket and am greeted with one bar. When I walk down two steps, it disappears. Returning to the top of the stairs, I dial Jeremy. “Landon! You make it home okay? They said a tornado came through your side of town.”