Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  It’s a reminder of death.

  “Sure thing, baby. I’ll always be here for you,” he says with sad eyes and a grave seriousness in his tone. “Always.”

  He walks through the Jack-and-Jill bathroom and to the guest room on the other side before I can say a word. Russell knocks lightly before pushing the door open as I’m getting out of bed. I can feel the color drain from my face. They missed each other by a hair. What is it with these guys barging in my room today?

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask with a smile, trying to mask my discomfort.

  “It’s your...well, I found out today is your day—the one you don’t like celebrating.”

  Hearing his flustered explanation melts away my apprehension for him being here. Bless his soul; he doesn’t want to say the b-word. I think I might actually enjoy him saying the damn word. Everything sounds so nice coming out of his mouth. I blame it on the accent.

  “Who told you?” I ask in a small voice.

  “Aimee did. I hope you don’t get angry with her,” he replies in a sheepish tone as he shuffles his feet.

  I smile at the sight of him as I try to think of ways that I’m going to kick Aimee’s ass. Aimee is one of my good friends in law school. In the beginning, I wanted to get close to her because of her godfather. He’s Mark Lewis from Lewis, Smith, and Morris. He also happens to be my attorney. I can’t shake the feeling that somehow he’s connected to my past, but I’ve never met him. The more I got to know Aimee, the more I liked her, so I eased up on my Inspector Gadget bit and just became friends with her.

  I keep telling her that I want to go to her parents’ house, using the excuse that I want to see where the mayor lives. Her father is the mayor of Chicago—something that she hates for people to know. She says she hates going home because she says it’s too depressing. None of those things matter to me; I really want to go to see if I can find any dirt on Mark Lewis.

  “It’s fine—as long as you didn’t get me anything. It’s complicated,” I say, not wanting to explain myself.

  “It’s okay. I didn’t bring you a present or a cake or anything. I would like to take you to dinner, but not to celebrate today—just to celebrate us. Is that okay?”

  I close my eyes. “Russell, that’s still a celebration,” I mumble under my breath.

  “You have to eat, Blake. It’s just a meal.”

  “I usually don’t eat today,” I reply quietly as I walk to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I do not want to have this conversation right now—or ever. “Can you wait for me in the living room? I’m going to take a quick shower.”

  He comes over to me and wraps me in his arms. “Sure, but think about dinner, please,” he pleads before giving me a quick kiss and walking out of my room.

  I let out a deep breath once he closes the door behind him. I skip to the door and lock it. I never leave my bedroom door unlocked when I shower. I’m startled when I turn back around and see Cole standing in the doorway between the bathroom and my bedroom.

  “What?” I whisper harshly, making my way over.

  “Nothing. You locked it,” he smirks as he nods in the direction of the door.

  “I always do, but you already knew that,” I snap.

  “Not when I’m here, you don’t,” he snaps back.

  I tilt my head back and let out something that sounds like a growl of frustration. Cole laughs.

  “What now?”

  “You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” he says as his green eyes dance in amusement.

  “Give me space, please,” I say as I push his chest with both hands. His chuckle vibrates against my arms, sending a shiver through my body. The sound of his laugh is one of the sexiest things I’ve heard—aside from Russell’s accent, of course.

  I roll my eyes. “Cole, just hurry up in here. I need to pee and shower.”

  “So do it. You’ve done worse things in front of me,” he counters with a raised eyebrow.

  “Will you hurry up? We can’t both be in here at the same time; it’ll look bad.”

  He closes the gap between us and examines me slowly, from my feet to my face, making me feel naked. His tongue coaxes his bottom lip, slowly soothing it, and I feel it affecting the aching parts of my body. If I could form coherent words, I would ask him why he’s doing this, but I can only focus on his shirtless chest.

  “We can both be in here,” he says inching closer to me until I can feel his breath on the side of my face. “I’m still sleeping. Need help undressing?” he murmurs as he runs the pads of his fingers down the sides of my arms, making my breath quicken.

  I try my best to keep my composure as the air between us crackles with desire.

  “Cole, please,” I whimper.

  “Please what, baby?” he asks huskily as he pushes a strand of hair behind my left ear and caresses my earlobe. His smoldering eyes dart from mine to my lips when I bite down on it, trying to contain a lustful sound from escaping my lips. He moans softly at the sight of it, and his own breathing becomes labored. I throw my head back with a frustrated groan and let out a gasp when I feel his lips press softly against my neck.

  “Cole,” I plead, panting. “Please don’t. Please.”

  He stills and exhales sharply against my neck, giving me chills. “Fine. I’ll go back to my room,” he says gruffly, his blazing eyes boring into mine. “Just know that I’ll be thinking very naughty thoughts and doing very naughty things to myself while I picture you naked and wet.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and clamp my legs together tightly as he laughs and walks back to the guest bedroom. Damn him.

  As I take a very cold shower, I begin to recall my nightmare and the day that my mind has been willing me to forget for the past twenty-one years.

  Chapter Two

  Past

  “Mommy!” I screamed. “Mommy!”

  But she didn’t look up.

  I knelt down in the pool of blood that surrounded her and started shaking her. I was still shaking and calling her name when a man walked in. He had one blue eye and one dark shiny eye that looked as though it could have been made out of glass. As much as I hated looking at his glass eye—because it was taunting me, looking everywhere but at me—I couldn’t seem to stop staring. The eye was brown; his real eye was blue. He was bald, had a thick blond beard on his face, and was very big. I thought he looked like a monster in a scary movie. He walked into the kitchen and looked around, screaming something that I didn’t understand. I trembled at the thought of what it might be. I looked around while he paced and saw the bloodied party hats and the cupcakes I had helped Mommy frost before bedtime.

  When he turned around to go back outside, I saw Nathan hovering by the kitchen door. He was the little boy that I used to play with on the farm, and he looked like he’d been crying. I wanted to blink my tears away and ask him what he was doing in my house, but I was frozen. Nathan and I stared at each other until the man with the glass eye yanked him by the arm and yelled something. I wished I could have stopped the drumming in my ears so that I could make out what he was saying. When Nathan left, I wanted to get my knees off the floor and run to him; he made me feel safe.

  I remembered the time at the farm when I fell out of a tree we loved to climb, and Nathan jumped off to help me. He kissed my scraped knees and elbows and walked me to my dad.

  A familiar looking man stepped into the kitchen. He was young and had sky-blue eyes that looked tired. His eyes looked tired like daddy’s did when he came home from work. He had short blond hair. I’d seen him on the farm, too, I think. He reminded me of somebody, but I was too frazzled to think about it.

  He held on to his chest and tears formed in his eyes when he noticed my mom. He walked out after a minute of staring at her. He was wiping his face when he walked back in and turned to me saying, “Close your eyes, baby girl.”

  I saw another man walk in—a dark man. He looked around the kitchen and I noticed his eyes widen when he saw my mother. He looked scared, which made me feel
even more scared. This man was a grown up. How could he be scared, too?

  I did as I was told, and Blue Eyes pinched me with something before lifting me in his arms. I tried to open my eyes again, but I couldn’t. Suddenly, I felt very tired.

  I crinkled my nose at the foul odor around me, it smelled like a mix of blood and gasoline station. I wanted to look around, but my eyes didn’t want to open, even though I was begging them to. I needed to see Mommy. I needed to see Daddy. I needed to see Nathan. I needed to wake up from the terrible nightmare. I had something in my dry mouth that was keeping it open yet closed. I stuck my tongue out and tasted it. It was hard and stiff; it was fabric. When my eyes finally cooperated, I saw the black floor before I was jerked abruptly against a hard wall. I whimpered at the impact.

  “Shit. Slow the fuck down. You’re going to get them hurt,” a man yelled, I recognized his voice as Blue Eyes.

  “What does it matter? We’re going to kill them anyway,” the other man replied.

  “Fine. Pull over right up there,” the young man said.

  We’re in a car? I’m in a car? I started breathing heavily as I looked around. It was dark, but as the car slowed we passed a street light, so I could make things out. I was in a van, like the one Daddy used to move boxes in. I twisted my body so I wasn’t facing the wall, but my sticky clothes didn’t let me move much. When I turned, I saw Nathan facing me. He was wrapped up in rope and had fabric in his mouth, too. His green eyes were wide, and he looked as scared as I felt. He had tears running down his face, and I heard myself sniffle back my own. My heart started beating faster when I heard the men step out of the car and slam their doors. I couldn’t see anything beyond Nathan. I didn’t want to see anything beyond Nathan. I heard the men screaming outside the doors open again, then I felt the van sink when they got into their seats and slammed the doors.

  “Okay, so where are you taking them?” one man asked.

  “Don’t worry about it. I told you—you don’t need to know.”

  “Like hell, what if Jamie asks me? I can’t lie,” he replied, sounding desperate.

  “You will, though. Remember, I’m getting you that plane ticket tonight. You’ll leave with your family. Just stay the fuck away. I’ll have people watching you. If you step near Jamie or any of his guys, I’ll start stripping off your family one by one.”

  “I didn’t want to get involved in this shit anyway. Glass took it too far. Nobody was supposed to die—least of all her. What was he thinking? How could he do that?” I could hear sniffling coming from their direction and one of them kept apologizing to the other. What is he sorry for?

  The car stopped, and I instinctively scooted as fast as I could toward Nathan. We huddled together until the door in the back opened, and we were met by a pair of sky-blue eyes. I wasn’t sure why, but he made me feel somewhat safe. I was glad it wasn’t anybody else. Maybe it was because I could see the sadness in his eyes. Still, the longer he stood there, the worse the feeling in the pit of my stomach got. I moved as close as I could to Nathan, and he did the same until we were shoulder to shoulder.

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Blue Eyes whispered. “I have to separate you. You’ll both be safer this way. Everything is okay now.”

  He leaned in and grabbed Nathan, who let out a muffled scream, mimicking my own. Blue Eyes put Nathan over his shoulder and turned around. Nathan stopped screaming and turned up his head so that I could see him. I knew he was trying to be brave. My brave friend. My chest was heaving in sobs as I watched him get taken away from me. As I drowned in my tears, the other man started to speak.

  “I’m sorry, little girl. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” he said in a broken voice. “I know you don’t understand this, but I’m truly sorry.”

  I wished people would stop saying that to me.

  Blue Eyes came back and closed the back door again before going to his seat. “I’m going to take you to a good home now, Baby Girl. You’ll be with your Aunt Shelley. She’s going to take real good care of you.”

  I fell asleep crying, wondering where we left Nathan. I hoped he was back home with his family. The next time I woke up I was lying in a bed, untied, and a woman with blond hair and kind blue eyes was watching me. I made her cry when I asked her where my mommy was.

  “You’re mommy is an angel now, Doll,” Aunt Shelley said as tears swam in her blue eyes. “She’ll always be with you.”

  “Do you know my mommy?” I asked quietly.

  “I do, I know your mommy very well,” she replied hoarsely.

  “Do you know where my daddy is?” I replied as I slumped my shoulders.

  “No, baby, I don’t,” she said as she ran her fingers through my hair.

  I asked her for my parents every day for months. One day I woke up with no hope and stopped asking.

  Aunt Shelley tried to make me feel comfortable and never gave up on me. She started taking me to a therapist when I wouldn’t stop drawing pictures of women with blonde hair laying in red puddles. The therapist asked me a lot of questions, and one day Aunt Shelley stopped taking me. She home schooled me until I was ten and she got diagnosed with breast cancer. She had a double mastectomy and survived the cancer, but still enrolled me in the local elementary school, where some of my friends from dance classes went. The school gave her the option to let me skip a grade since I was advanced, but she decided against it. She said that adapting to school was a big enough deal and that I didn’t need middle school to be my first school experience.

  When I was twelve, Aunt Shelley was diagnosed with lymphoma and was given four months to live. She never told me she was dying.

  “I’m sick, Cupcake,” she said one night over dinner.

  I frowned. “Sick how?”

  “I have cancer,” she said in a wavering voice. I gasped. I knew a couple of kid’s in school that had family members die of cancer.

  “Are you gonna die?” I ask quietly.

  Tears filled her eyes. “God needs another angel to help him, but I don’t know when he’ll need me.”

  She told me she loved me, and I would be with people that would take care of me. She said her neighbor, Phoebe, would take me to a good lady named Maggie Parker. She asked me to promise her that I would behave, continue to study, and follow my dreams. I promised her everything. I would have given her the world if I could.

  One night after dance class, I laid in bed with Aunt Shelley as she was hooked up to uncomfortable monitors. She squeezed me to her side and held me close. We had a live-in nurse with us, which led me to believe that things were going very bad. Aunt Shelley refused to stay in the hospital and leave me alone. As I laid with her and talked about math and science, she asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I told her that I wanted to put bad guys in jail. She suggested I become a lawyer because I had guts or a police officer because I was selfless.

  I looked at her with a smile on my face. “I love you, Aunt Shelley.”

  Tears formed in her eyes, and I wished I hadn’t said anything. I didn’t know what came over me. I just had to say it though. It was the first time I’d ever told her that I loved her, not because I hadn’t always loved her, but I couldn’t say the words before then.

  “I love you, too, Blakey,” she replied.

  We fell asleep hand in hand. She passed away the next day. For the second time in my life, I felt alone, lost, and hurt. Thankfully, I only felt that way for a week—until I was taken to Maggie’s house. That was where I met the people that I considered my real family. The ones I adored, would die for, and kept me going. The same ones I would shut out in order to protect from getting hurt by me.

  Chapter Three

  Present

  “So, did you have a nice weekend?” Cole asks, breaking the comfortable silence we had as I drive him to the airport.

  I roll my eyes but can’t keep myself from smiling. “You were here all weekend; you should know that I did.”

  “Did you like that I was here all weekend?” he asks a
s he jabs me in the ribs playfully.

  I squeal and shimmy a little. “It was alright,” I say with a shrug.

  His chuckle makes me grip the steering wheel a little tighter. When we get to the next red light, I turn my body to face him. Whatever I was thinking about bringing up vanishes when our eyes lock and I see a mix of sadness and longing in his eyes that reflect my own. Honking cars startle us out of our trance and I clear my throat as I turn my body to continue driving. I park in front of O’Hare International Airport and watch as he gets down and opens the back seat. He puts on a navy sports jacket before reaching in for his bag. I turn in my seat to face forward when he closes the back door.

  “I guess I’ll see you...thanks for coming,” I say quietly, looking straight ahead. I’ve always been horrible with goodbyes; and goodbyes with Cole aren’t my favorite thing in the world. I hear him sigh loudly and I tilt my head when I feel him get back in the car.

  He leans in and my heart goes into overdrive when he picks up the hand I have resting on the gear. “You don’t have to thank me,” he says. “See you soon, baby,” he murmurs softly as he grazes the top of my hand with his lips, liquefying my insides.

  I’m not sure how long I sit there staring at the door that Cole walked through before my brain starts functioning again. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and notice a little black velvet box on the passenger seat. My first thought is: Shit. He left something. My stomach turns at the size of the box. It could be a ring. Oh my God, is he going to propose? I can’t even think about that, but damn it, I’m reaching over and picking it up anyway. I don’t know why I love to torture myself like this. I clutch on to the little box with shaky hands before I take in a deep breath and open it. I let out the breath when I see a necklace with a silver skeleton key on it. It’s amazing. I don’t analyze it too much before I snap the box closed and toss it back on the passenger seat before driving home.

  When I get home I start sorting through the mail and find a letter from the Lewis, Smith, and Morris Law Firm. According to the letter, there are things that I need to take care of in Mark’s office. I can’t understand what else he could possibly have for me. When I turned eighteen, I inherited my Aunt Shelley’s estate, which made me $530,000 richer. I already had money that I’d gotten over the years when I was living in Maggie’s house. I used some of that money to get Aubry and me the apartment we’re currently renting. Before he got a decent job, Aubry helped pay the bills while I paid the rent. We now split the rent and utilities because Aubry said that he refused to be a charity case.