“Fuck, baby, you have no idea how much I hoped and prayed… but I didn’t dare imagine…” he trails off, his voice catching.
“You wanted a baby?”
“A mini you and me? Hell yeah!” he says and she laughs, tears running down her face. “But baby, I prayed to God for a do-over. I remember so clearly the last time. I was… out of my mind, contemplating some stupid shit in my head and then you called.”
She remembers that night too. The same day she received the news from the doctor at that hangar that she was pregnant and then… it was taken away from them.
“I knew I’d done some stuff in my life, I let you down, baby. I broke your heart, I deserved to be punished a hundred times over, burn in hell for the rest of eternity but when I held you in my arms, blood covering both of us, the vacant look in your eyes as you squeezed my hand, praying for our baby to live… I died that night.”
“Ace, please, don’t,” she croaks, her heart swelling, pain filtering in her chest.
“We’ll never forget baby Alex.”
“Baby Alex?” Star says with a smile.
“That’s what I named him in my head all these years, baby,” he says with a tight smile and she shakes her head.
“You’re impossible but yes, we’ll never forget our baby, our first.”
“Yes,” Ace says seriously. “He was a blessing, conceived by us and now… I never thought the Big Guy upstairs would listen to me, let alone grant my prayers.”
“Prayers?” she scoffs. “Is that what we’re calling your incessant demands now?”
“Blasphemy! I know how to tone down my own decrees and demands into requests.”
Star throws her head back and laughs. She’s pretty sure she’s never been happier than she is in this moment, with the love of her life looking at her like the sun and moon rise and set with her.
“I’ve got you, Star. You and our baby are all that matters to me,” Ace says seriously, placing his hand over her womb. “I love you so goddamn much, it might kill us both.”
“I’ll love you even then,” she whispered, overwhelmed with so much love for the man holding her. “Always.”
“Always.”
Just as they kiss again, awakening desire and ecstasy like never before, they hear sniffling, like someone is crying.
“What was that?” Star questions, looking at the slightly ajar door.
“Shh, Ivy, you’re going to get us caught,” someone who sounds suspiciously like Kimberly whispers hoarsely.
“Bitch, you’re the one crying!” Ivy whispers back just as loudly.
Ace and Star shake their heads, then they choose to ignore their audience, sealing their future with a kiss.
Noah and Emmett have the table set, their well to do upbringing giving them the skills to actually do a good job of it.
“Dinner’s ready, you heathens!” Noah hollers, feeling slightly lighter than ever before. Kimberly’s hair looks like a pile of ashes, his Baby Blue is pregnant, about to bless him with someone to continue giving King hell even after he’s long gone and George’s baby momma is looking as uncomfortable as she did when she peed herself in third grade in front of his entire class.
“So Lara,” he starts, watching her with a sneer. “Why are you here?”
Lara, knowing that she’s unwelcome and probably the most hated person at the table, gulps, looking at Emmett for a brief second before she looks down at the sleeping baby in her arms who is now her lifeline.
“We…” she stutters. “We came to talk.”
“To talk huh?” Noah taunts.
“Stop it, Noah, it’s Christmas Eve dinner,” Astraea says as she sits in the chair King pulls out for her. “Lara, I’m sure you can put little Claire down so you can rest and eat.”
Astraea says all this without actually looking at Lara. Lara gulps again, knowing she doesn’t deserve Astraea’s kindness after what she did to the kind, sweet girl who is now the only one not giving her a dark look.
“Thank you,” Lara says kindly. “She gets a bit fussy when she’s put down these days.”
“Your baby is super cute,” Ivy says with a smile, cutting through the steak. “But why are you out with a baby in this weather?” Forks drop, Kim splutters her water, Emmett coughs, as everyone stares at Ivy, the outspoken one. “What? I’m high, so forgive me for my bluntness.”
Noah chortles a laugh and King smirks, but Emmett, he stares at his Angel with concern, his palms balling into fists. How could Noah be so damn irresponsible enough to leave out that fucking tray of brownies?
“She’s right,” King says, staring at his ex-best friend. “Why risk pneumonia and getting lost in a blizzard? Don’t tell me it’s to spend Christmas with us.”
“And if it is?” George demands, staring at the man he thought isn’t good enough for his twin sister, but he’s actually the only one he trusts with the other half of him.
“Then that would be another one of your colorful lies,” Noah says simply. “You proved long ago that we don’t matter to you.”
“That’s a fucking lie and you know…”
“Boys,” Astraea calls loudly, bringing the table to order. “Please.”
Silence falls over the table, but the tensions keep spiking with every glance, every look, every harsh breath.
“I can’t do this,” Astraea finally says, putting the fork down. “Why are you here? It’s bad enough that these assholes tried giving me, Kim, and Ivy a heart attack by scaring the shit out of us.”
“What?” all four boys demand, staring at her confused.
“Don’t act surprised, you know exactly what you did,” Kim mutters, not impressed at all. “The haunted music, the flashlights, the stupid masks. You even left blood all over the hallway.”
All four boys shoot each other indecipherable looks, then, in perfect synchronization, they’re up, an unspoken decision between them.
“Stay here, baby, don’t move,” King mutters to Star.
And they’re gone.
But the girls, they give each other a single look and they too get up and follow after the boys.
It doesn’t take long to find them. They’re standing there, in the middle of the hallway where the girls almost had heart attacks, with looks of shock and horror on their faces.
They all stare at the glow in the dark skull on the wall and the bull’s head on the floor that the girls thought was a pig/dragon’s head.
“Why are you standing there like you don’t know what you did?” Kim questions, her voice high-pitched, suddenly nervous. “You did this, didn’t you?”
No, the boys didn’t do any of this.
The game they wanted to play was a bonfire game. They even built the damn thing, brought all the marshmallows and Graham crackers so they can play truth or dare but in spectacular Blue Boys fashion.
They did not, however do this.
King and George stare at each other, anger and the need to protect their loved ones, burning in them.
“The lights were dimmed low when I got here,” George says, staring intently at the boys he used to call his brothers. “And the music was already playing.”
“What kind of music?” Emmett demands.
“Haunted. Slow. That Halloween type of shit.”
“Someone was in here,” Ace says lowly, thinking the girls aren’t listening but good God are they paying attention.
“Who did this?” Astraea questions, hysteria and terror so clear in her voice. “Who was in here?”
“It’s simple, Astraea,” a new voice says, startling the group. They all turn around, the boys crouched in protective mode, but George and Astraea just sigh when they turn around to see their father standing there.
“Really, Dad?” Astraea mutters unhappily. “You just had to be dramatic, huh?”
But she fails to register the thunderous, almost violently murderous look on Eli’s face as he stands in front of the hallway. “I assure you, Astraea Claire Beaumont, drama is the last thing on my mind wh
en Syrus Easton has hired hitmen to take you all out and leave his children.”
Gasps fill the hallway, the news shocking everyone. Emmett steps forward, his entire body frozen, meeting the frosty yet deadly gaze of Astraea’s father.
“What do you mean?” King demands.
“I’m an only child,” Emmett grits out, shame, pain, and anger mixing together into a tsunami of emotions that once again his father has brewed.
“Yes, Dad, what are you talking about?” Astraea says, her heart thundering like the hooves of a thoroughbred race horse, looking between Emmett and her dramatic father.
She moves to stand in front of Emmett, as if to protect him just as Ivy, Noah, and King are doing now.
But Kim, she’s piecing it together. She’s been watching the newcomers from the moment they arrived. She might’ve been high, but she’s always been good at everything, it annoys everyone.
“No, Em’s not an only child,” she says, gaining everyone’s attention on her. She doesn’t waver at the heaviness of everyone’s stare though because she’s looking right at the girl with the child in her arms. “This bitch, she’s the one who helped Brittney hurt and bully Astraea—almost to the point where Raea didn’t want to continue with school anymore—Lara’s the one who got the drug to spike Raea’s drink at that party six years ago and now she has George wrapped around her finger. She is Emmett’s sister. And she’s the reason George wanted Emmett and Astraea to get married so they could get all the wealth.”
HOLY FUCK!
P.S: Happy New Year!
Holy shit, huh?
Now, now, before you come torching down my house, y’all already know my name. You already know this! **inserts evil laugh here**
Okay, okay, I feel you! It’s all just, but how? But it’s quite clear y’all… well, maybe not. Either way, I have faith in you, Blue Crew! Don’t hate me, this was a gift from my dark little heart to you. It’s late, but better late than never! I think this was better than a pair of socks or a packet of scrunchies as a Christmas gift, right?
Anyway, I do hope you loved this little-not so little story and that you loved catching up with Astraea and Ace, see how they are doing, the challenges they still face even now, but still choosing each other every single day. They deserve all the happiness, but these people, I swear they want to stress my babies out. King is having none of that mess this time around though. You’ve been warned!
Thank you all for reading, for riding with this crew and for still wanting more. Thank you for the emails you send, asking about the Blue Boys. All I can say for now is and I really mean this, you’re not ready for the rest of the boys.
If you loved this story, Frosty Blues, please consider leaving a short, honest review! I’d love to hear what you thought!
Love you all!
From this Spitfire,
Thandie xxx
Preview of Devious Kisses
Slamming the door shut behind me, I stalk down the stark white hospital hallway, the shitty smell of cleaning detergent and sickness stinging my nostrils, making the blood in my veins rush hot.
Fists clenched as tightly as my jaw; I can hardly make out anything in my head other than the residue of shock from the past twelve hours.
It doesn’t fucking matter what I do, I can’t shake it off my skin. It’s lodged deep in my damn throat making it hard to breathe. My shoulders are strained with so much tension and anger. And all I can see in my mind’s eye is a replay—in sharp contrast of brilliant color—of last night’s events.
One moment, he was alright. My older brother was fine. He had his secretive, ‘I-know-something-you-don’t’ smile on his face all evening.
He was responding.
His eyes were bright.
He had just talked to our younger brother, Liam, on the phone who was away for summer camp.
And the next, he just wasn’t alright.
I’d like to blame it on the fact that Mom switched on the TV at the wrong time, because that’s where everything went to hell.
I’d like to think it’s my fault for leaving him alone for those few minutes.
Whatever the reason may be it doesn’t fucking matter, we’re here now and these godforsaken doctors won’t tell me shit! Goddamn it all to hell!
Where did I go wrong? What did I miss beside chalking off Aiden’s fever for a cold that would pass?
I start pacing from one end of the hospital hallway to the other, deciding to go through last night’s events with a fine-tooth comb.
See, I left Aiden in his room, which is conveniently close to the TV room where Mom was waiting, dressed to the nines for dinner with her husband; but we both knew even then, he wasn’t going to show.
Feeling sorry for her and naively casting away my responsibilities to my brother, I sat with her, driven by this stupid need to turn her constant frown upside down, not that she deserved it, but she was still my mother. Maybe I wanted her to forget about how shitty her husband really is, but she should know this. The douchebag constantly showed us his true colors, one of them being his deep resentment—bordering on hatred—for his oldest son.
She decided to pass up time by watching her favorite gossip channel, E! But when she switched it on, I watched as her face paled like she was witnessing the goriest horror movie, but she couldn’t look away.
Mom always had a habit of watching that damn channel all day like it was her religious duty to do so. I don’t know why I thought she did it to get her gossip points for when she met up for brunch with other wealthy housewives, with too much time on their hands and nothing productive to do.
But last night, I realized something else. Mom didn’t watch that channel for other people’s messy gossip. She stalked the channel for news, any kind of news, about her whoring, cheating jerk of a husband.
Last night, she put the truth to that adage; if you’re looking for negative news with bated breath and desperation, you’ll find it. Mom got more than she bargained for last night.
With a scream, she grabbed the nearest object she could get her hands on, which so happened to be her wedding picture frame, and threw it at the TV, smashing both the screen and the photo, like she had had enough and it was finally time to just…break.
And why not, it’s not like she didn’t know. She did.
But the thing about living a life filled with secrets and deceiving yourself is that it’ll eventually catch up with you. I’ve learned earlier in life that self-deceit is like a lethal poison that you concoct yourself, then shoot up your veins like it’ll blind you from the extremities of your fucked-up reality.
But Mom saw it coming, though.
The drunken white lies she always accepted from him. The twisted, neatly wrapped expensive apologies she always welcomed with open arms. She saw it coming and now it all blew up in her face.
Okay, and then what happened? Was there a sign? Was there a rumbling of thunderous clouds? Fuck, what happened to my brother? What did I miss?
When Mom threw that picture, I guess she realized there wasn’t a need to wear her ‘everything’s perfect’ mask anymore. Unfortunately, that also meant that she didn’t have to pretend to be a loving, attentive mother anymore.
All it took from her was three piercing, earth-shattering screams to bring me here, in this damn hospital, exhausted out of my mind and so damn angry, I can’t think straight.
It only took three screams with short, barely-take-a-breath, intervals, like she’d been holding it in for a long time. While at the same time, Aiden had been holding whatever’s wrong with him in. Like a ticking time-bomb.
It took just three screams from her to mentally check out from this fucked-up world, shedding her responsibilities and surrendering to the sorrow and pain that was always there in her eyes when she looked at her husband every morning like he didn’t creep in at four am for as long as I can remember.
Three screams.
With the first scream, I heard a loud crash coming from my brother’s room. It was so loud and s
o sudden, my head snapped around so fast I didn’t have the time to notice, let alone catch my mother from falling as she lost her footing, fingers scrambling to tear her evening gown apart.
With her second scream, I quickly got up to catch her, my ears perked up to the nerve-racking distinct sound of choking.
That sound. It paralyzed me to the spot, turning my insides into cement blocks.
I was hoping Mom was listening when three seconds passed after her second scream. I shook her shoulders, begged her to stand up and come with me to check on Aiden but instead, dead eyes filled with an emptiness that’s been eating at me since I was three years old, met my gaze. I don’t think she could see me, but when she belted out the last shiver-inducing, horror movie scream, I knew.
“Fuck!” I bellow, every inch of me coiled so tight, anger making my vision hazy. For a second the white walls look like they’re glazed over by bloody red stains.
Did she know? When she screamed like that, did she already know what was going to happen to Aiden?
I mean, that’s the only explanation I can come up with as to why she didn’t get up to help her son with Down syndrome, but instead sought out three bottles of her favorite wine to console her.
But if we’re being honest, Aiden hasn’t existed for my parents since he was born. How can the Fitzgeralds be so flawed?
Fuck them! Aiden’s still their son!
But he isn’t supposed to be in this fucking hospital. I took care of him. I gave him medicine when he complained about a headache and when his temperature shot up yesterday afternoon. I was with him the whole time up until that point.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, but just like the past four or so hours, I ignore it.
If either of them can’t be bothered to be here for their son, then they don’t deserve to know what’s happening.
Frosty Blues: A Westbrook Blues Novella Page 18