Crazy Madly Deeply

by Lily White

  My lips twitched with humor. What this particular girl didn’t know is that I had sketchbooks stored in my room with dozens of pictures of her. She’d had my attention long before I ever had the chance to know the woman she would become.

  Stepping across the room I grabbed a sketchbook and pencil then sat down near her and raked my eyes over a body that was absolute perfection. Jutting my chin in her direction, I instructed, “Fold your hands together beneath your head, and spread your legs a little wider.”

  Sin was the edge of her smile. “This picture is becoming a lot more pornographic than I imagined.”

  My eyes met hers. “Who’s the artist? And who’s the model?”

  Soft laughter. “I’ve been sufficiently schooled.”

  Her legs spread slightly, just enough to send a wave of lust through me that was so toxic holding the sketchpad on my lap became uncomfortable. My fingertips slid against the smooth surface of the pencil, my lips parting just enough to drag in a deeper breath of air, but when the lead should have scratched across the plain sheet of paper, I found myself dropping it instead, a startled cry tumbling from Michaela’s mouth when I stood to my feet, closed the distance between us and lifted her to carry over my shoulder. I was halfway down the hall before she realized that particular modeling session was over.

  “Holden!” She cried out, still laughing despite the way my fingers clamped over the cheek of her ass. “You’re supposed to be drawing me, not taking me to your bedroom.”

  For that one moment, I believed everything in life didn’t have to go wrong.

  “I’m still going to draw you,” I promised, “I’m just taking you somewhere to get a more thorough inspection.”

  We fell into each other’s arms that night without worry of the future.

  I should have known better than to forget that in the happiest moments we find in our lives, circumstances always have a way of changing.

  . . .

  It was around one in the morning when my eyes peeled open, my body lifting from the bed as my head turned toward a noise outside the door of my dark bedroom. The shuffling of feet. The screech of the legs of a chair over the dining room floor. The sound of a glass being set down on the table. Shaking my head of the sleep that still kept me hazy, I listened again, unsure if the sounds had been real or a figment of my imagination.

  A cough.

  The glass.

  I recognized those sounds.

  Shifting off the bed, I left Michaela sleeping soundly beneath the covers as I pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped from the room. The house was silent again, but I knew, I just KNEW, Michaela and I weren’t alone.

  Slowly, I crept down the hall, my shoulder pressed to the corner as I leaned past to look into the dining room.

  What I found was both a relief and a shock.

  “Deli?”

  Seated at the table, my little sister turned her head in my direction, the quick movement causing her hair to slip over her shoulder to hang down her arm. “Holden? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  Blinking away the remaining sleep, my body rounded the corner of the hall, stepping closer to a girl who should not have been sitting in this house. “Why are you here? It’s one in the morning. Did something happen?”

  Her expression fell, the smile slipping from her lips as if she’d expected a better reaction. Guilt wove through my heart, my weight settling into a chair at the table opposite her.

  “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  Reaching across the table, I rested my hand over hers. “Of course, I’m happy to see you, but I didn’t expect you home until after Christmas, and I don’t understand why you’re here so late.”

  Deli rolled her eyes. “Did you really think I’d leave you, Holden? I don’t want you to be alone for the holidays.”

  “Del,” I breathed out, my forehead pressing down on the table as I considered all the serious complications my sister’s presence created. The first and foremost being the woman presently sleeping in my bed that had no explainable reason for being here. “You know I’m working doubles-“

  “I don’t care, silly. It’s the holidays and you shouldn’t be alone.”

  I wasn’t exactly alone, but she didn’t know that yet. Admitting as much, my voice was soft for fear our talking would wake Michaela before I had a chance to explain everything to Del.

  “I’m not alone.”

  Surprise shot her eyebrows up her forehead. “Is that girl from the diner here?”

  Shaking my head, I breathed out slowly. “Uh, no. Actually, Michaela Paige is here.”

  Her eyebrows shot higher. “I - I’m not even sure what to say about that. How? Why? Are you dating Michaela?”

  I nodded my head, fear squeezing my heart as hard as I was squeezing her hand. “It’s a long story, but I wanted you to know before you wake up in the morning to find her here.”

  Confusion wrinkled her expression. Seconds of silence slipped past, worrying me and leaving me struggling for a decent draw of breath. Deli’s eyes met mine when she asked, “Does she make you happy?”

  That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Taking my time to consider the question, I couldn’t help the way my lips curled up at the corners. “Yeah, actually. She does.”

  Shrugging, she grinned, “Then I’m happy she’s here. The more the merrier, right?”

  Leave it to Delilah to simply accept a person based solely on my opinion of them. I’d hoped to break her of that habit over the years, but sometimes it was just the way things were between close siblings: the younger always looked to the older for their opinions and advice. “Yeah. The more the merrier. But, Del, you should have stayed with Uncle Scott. We don’t have anything here to celebrate. There isn’t a tree, or presents, or even food for a holiday meal.”

  “You’re here,” she reminded me. “And that’s all that matters to me. We’re family, Holden. We’re supposed to be together at Christmas.”

  I opened my mouth to keep arguing, but Deli yawned so loud, I knew she was too tired for a long conversation. Exhaustion was weighing me down as well. I decided I could save my questions for the morning.

  “We should both get some sleep, little sis. We can talk more later.”

  Nodding her head, Deli stood from her seat. “I think you’re right, Holden. I’m going to go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  A tired grin stretched my lips. “Goodnight.”

  She didn’t say another word before turning to disappear down the hall. Left at the table, I held my head in my hands and took a few minutes to think about all the problems Deli’s presence would cause. After some thought, I realized Michaela wasn’t the issue that should have worried me the most. It was the concern I had about what would happen to my sister once the holidays were over and everybody in Tranquil Falls knew that Jack and Michaela were missing.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Michaela

  Waking up the next morning, I grinned at the soreness of my body when I stretched. Normally people would react badly to pain, but I welcomed the discomfort, only because it reminded me of the hours Holden and I had spent intertwined, exploring each other and making our closer inspections, my laughter rising up above his insistence that he had to see every intimate part to ensure he got the painting just right.

  Something about his eyes staring down at me felt natural. It felt like he’d always been watching, even when he’d been nothing more than a shadow roaming the halls of Tranquil Falls High.

  What grabbed my attention the most after I’d pushed myself to the side of the bed was the lack of running water. If Holden wasn’t lying here beside me, he was normally in the shower, but given he had the morning off, perhaps he’d found something else to do. A loud clatter in the kitchen drew my attention next, a low voice cursing before another crash.

  Oh, hell no. He’d invaded my kitchen apparently and after the week I’d spent rearranging everything where it could be easily found, I shoved myself to my feet to m
arch out there and keep the damage he was causing to a minimum.

  Rounding the corner of the hall, I froze in step, my eyes rounding to see Holden in a pair of loose jeans hanging off his hips, his chest and abs bared to my eyes, his hands running through his hair as he stared at the pots and pans he’d thrown on the stove only to discover we were down to the bare minimum when it came to food.

  I considered sneaking up on him, but the poor guy looked like he couldn’t take another surprise. Clearing my throat instead, a smile split my face to see him spin on his heel, his expression flustered, his hair sticking up and out from running his hands through it.

  “Problem?” I asked, leaning a shoulder against the wall.

  “We have no food. How in the hell have you been making meals out of -“ Looking in the fridge, he listed, “sugar, a jar of pickles, a packet of ketchup and a half used block of cheese?”

  The refrigerator door slammed shut before he looked at me again. “Are you magic?”

  Laughter shook my shoulders. “I told you I had to get creative.”

  “Creative? Are you kidding me? I was tearing everything apart looking for the magic wand.”

  Walking into the room, I sat at the table and wondered what it was about him this morning that was different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but Holden seemed happier, more relaxed. There was an extra spring to his step, a lightness about him that made him more adorable than usual. “I hide the magic wand. It would be dangerous if it got into the wrong hands.” Pausing, I asked, “What’s going on with you this morning? I thought you’d want to sleep in since you don’t have work.”

  Standing behind the island with his palms pressed the counter, he rolled his neck and answered, “Normally, I would, but I’m cooking for two this morning. I need to get to the store.”

  Before I could question him, Holden spun and grabbed a pencil and a pad of paper, spinning back before rolling his neck again.

  “Cooking for two, as in you and me?”

  His eyes flicked up to me, “You and Deli. She’s home.”

  My eyes widened in shock, but he didn’t glance up at me again, one hand writing a list while the other rubbed at the back of his neck. “Could you do me a favor? There’s some ibuprofen in the medicine cabinet in my bathroom. Will you grab me two?”

  “Sure. Are you feeling sick?”

  “A headache. They happen every once in a while. Ever since the -“ Holden’s eyes locked to mine as his voice trailed off.

  Ever since the accident... he hadn’t wanted to say. It didn’t matter if he said the words or not, they still hung between us, still sent a shot of guilt through my heart.

  “They’re infrequent,” he explained softly, “I haven’t had one in a couple months.”

  After retrieving the medicine for him, I returned to the kitchen. Holden was finishing his list, his eyes scanning the pantry to see what we already had. “It would probably be easier to make a list of what we have rather than don’t have.”

  Head turning to me, he grinned. “Good point. Did you find the medicine?”

  Holding out my hand, I dropped the white pills in his palm. He swallowed them without water.

  “Delilah’s here?”

  Grimacing at the question, he tore the grocery list from the pad, but rather than turning to me, he paused. “Yeah, my sister’s back. I don’t know why, but we have to pretend like everything is okay around her.”

  His eyes finally met mine. “I told her about you already so it won’t be a surprise, but the other stuff...please, just don’t say anything. I don’t want our last memories together to be sad. I just want her to be happy. Okay?”

  Nodding, only because I was in too much shock to speak actual words, I stood in place as he stepped around me on the way to his bedroom. Before he turned the corner of the hall, he stopped. “This doesn’t change anything, Michaela. If that’s what you’re worried about?”

  His eyes met mine as the understanding settled over me that I wasn’t as worried about Delilah’s unexpected arrival as I was Holden’s odd behavior. Although it was nice to see him lose the ever-present brooding, the happiness seemed wrong, somehow. Forced. Fake. There, but not genuine.

  Shaking off the concern, I smiled. “I know.”

  “Awesome. I’m going to get dressed and catch a cab to the store.” He walked around the corner, but then popped his head around again to say, “Del’s asleep, but she might wake up before I get back. If so, maybe you two can talk about, well, whatever girls talk about.”

  And then he was gone again, his bedroom door closing, leaving me standing alone in his kitchen. Taking a seat at the table, I stared at the empty hall, worry blanketing me, a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. It was possible I was worrying for nothing. In conversations with Holden, it was obvious he adored his sister. All through school, the only time he’d reacted to anything the other students said or did was when it involved her, but the change in his demeanor was still startling, even given what I knew about their close relationship.

  I was still seated at the table when Holden reappeared from the hallway, his body bulky from the hoodie and jacket he wore. With a black beanie covering his head, he gave me a small wave before saying, “I’ll be back in a little while.” He rushed out the door a second later, not even giving me a chance to respond.

  My heart sank into my stomach, dread thundering in my head that I tried to excuse away as nothing. It was reasonable to think he was reacting badly to his sister’s sudden presence. We were both facing the eventual storm that would come on the day Jack and I were discovered missing. People react differently to all sorts of situations, so it wasn’t completely unbelievable that Holden was acting off out of fear of what was to come, but, even with that reasoning, I couldn’t shake the nagging whisper that I was missing something.

  Perhaps Delilah would know. She knew her brother better than anybody in Tranquil Falls and if she thought his behavior was normal, then maybe...

  Staring at the hall, I considered going into her room to wake her up. Deciding against it, I opted for watching some television to wait for her to wake on her own. It didn’t help to stop the incessant whispers. The only thing television helped to do was pass the time.

  Two hours passed with no sign of Delilah. She was still sleeping in her room when Holden returned home.

  Watching him from the couch, I said nothing as he carried in the groceries, making several trips back and forth to get them all. By the time he’d put everything away and had pulled food out to make breakfast, I was sitting at the dining room table again, watching him.

  The silence between us was deafening. “Did you want me to go wake up Delilah?” I finally asked.

  Glancing at me quickly before turning back to the stove, he answered, “No. She got in late last night. She’s probably just exhausted. I’ll wake her in a little while.”

  “Okay,” I muttered, worry firmly holding me in its grip.

  The remainder of the morning was spent in awkward silence, Holden’s attention distracted, absent, directed at anything besides me. By the time he had to leave for work that afternoon, Delilah still hadn’t emerged, even though he’d taken her breakfast in her room.

  Was it because of me? The question echoed in my head while Holden did everything to politely ignore me, and his sister refused to come out of her room. The silence was giving me a complex, my eyes tracking Holden as he darted through the house, pulling on his winter clothes as he prepared to leave for work.

  My thoughts drifted back to the last time I saw Delilah. I remembered the anger in her expression, the rage in her voice when she chased me from Holden’s hospital room, screaming at me that I was small.

  Perhaps I was no longer welcome here now that she’d returned home. The breakfast in my stomach rolled over itself, settling into a firm ball that sickened me.

  On his last pass as he headed to the door, Holden only looked at me as a second thought. “I’ll be back at my usual time tonight. I think De
l is still doing whatever, so I’ll see you later.” He didn’t wait for me to respond before he was gone.

  The ball of food threatened to shoot up my throat.

  What had just happened? It was blatantly apparent that Holden was running again. It was the same behavior from a week ago, the same refusal to acknowledge what was standing right in front of him. Cold had swept in to replace the warmth of the past week, worry overshadowing the progress we’d made, the past coming back to slap us in the face, reminding us that it had never gone away in the first place.

  The old Michaela would have simply accepted the turn about, would have grit her teeth while other people dictated the direction her life would take. But I wasn’t the old Michaela anymore, was I?

  Holden had made me promise not to let people push me around. Had made me promise to stand up and speak out when something was glaringly wrong.

  Well, this was wrong. And I refused to sit back and settle for whatever changes were taking place without at least fighting for what I knew was right.

  Bravery washed through me, the determination to correct the mistakes of the past. Seeing as how Delilah was the only new piece to the puzzle of Holden’s behavior, I assumed Delilah was also the only person I could go to in order to reverse this new course and turn it back into what it had been not even twenty-four hours before.

  Decision made, I pushed up from the couch and moved down the hallway, pausing for a minute as my hand hovered over the knob of her door. Barging in would be rude and might lead to another fight, so I knocked first, waiting several seconds before knocking again.

  Nobody answered.

  I didn’t care if she didn’t want to talk to me. I’d knocked. I’d tried to be polite, but this silence and avoidance wasn’t going to work if I had any hope of chasing Holden down again to stop him from running.

  “Delilah?” I called.

  No answer.

  Turning the knob, I cracked the door, slowly pushing it open with the expectation that Delilah would yell at me. I knew she wasn’t sleeping, Holden had taken her food before he left, but only silence filled the room as I edged around the door to peek in.