What Lies Beneath The Flowerbed

by D. M. Thornton

  Why can’t anything go my way? Things were going well for so long, and now, all of a sudden, if it can go wrong...it does. There are some people who don’t work well under pressure. They grow anxious and fuck everything up. That’s not us. Nope...Jaz, Andi, and I work well together, like a well-oiled machine. Andi purposely raises her voice loud enough for us to hear. “Well, hello boys. What brings you to these parts?”

  I glare at Jaz, who shakes her head. “I didn’t tell them. I swear,” she whispers.

  I roll my eyes. I know she didn’t voluntarily tell them, per se; however, they’re here. And when I say they, I mean all three of them. Jett, Drew, and Cole. Their voices ring loud and clear. There’s no time to think, which I suppose I don’t have to. Before I can say platypus, I’m knocked down on my ass. When I blink back the confusion of what hit me, I find Jaz straddling the cook, beating her fists down on his face.

  No words come to mind...there’s not much time to come up with something intelligent when Andi storms down the stairs with the guys in tow. Jett comes running toward me while Cole yells Jaz’s name and pries her off the unconscious cook.

  “What the hell happened?” Jett asks, his voice full of worry.

  My head shakes on my shoulders as I stare blankly at him. “I dunno.” It’s true, isn’t it? I really don’t know why the hell Jaz just clotheslined me, or why she was beating the shit out of an already out cold guy. But her quick thinking has me stunned and dazed, which adds to the lovely facade of us damsels in distress. Jaz was protecting me against the big bad wolf who attacked me. She’s covering up the fact that we were setting him up to be killed.

  Phew. I’m glad this played out the way it did. Had the guys shown up a few minutes later...well, we’d be toast.

  I knew I got clocked by the cook, but I wasn’t aware of the damage to my head until Jett cupped my chin with his hand and shifted my head to the side. “Son of a bitch, Gray. Are you okay?”

  It must look worse than it feels. That or the adrenaline pumping through my veins has me numb to the pain. I lift my hands, rubbing my fingertips across my forehead.

  Oh, wow. Would you look at that?

  Yep, I have a nice-sized goose egg right above my eye. When I pull my hand away, my fingers are covered with blood. Nice. I didn’t even know I was bleeding. Jett tears the hem of his shirt, ripping a section off, and presses it firmly on my head. The more pressure he applies, the more it begins to throb.

  “Would you like to tell me what the hell you’re doing here? And why Jaz is beating the shit out of this guy here?”

  Jaz and I exchange glances before I drop my head on a sob. What? Just because I don’t cry doesn’t mean I can’t cry at the drop of a hat...so sue me. I lean into Jett’s shoulder and rest my head in the crook of his neck while my hands fist his shirt as I cry. “My. My brother. He’s upstairs,” I whimper.

  “What’s he doing upstairs?” I hear Cole ask.

  I let Jett continue to pet my hair, stroking and grabbing the ends, not bothering to lift my head when Jaz answers for me. “He’s dead,” she says matter-of-factly. There’s hardly a smidgen of sympathy in her tone. I can’t say that I blame her. She has seen what this life of drugs has done to me, how it has crippled me. This girl will do anything to protect me, whether it be against my brother or the cops. Don’t get us wrong, we both feel remorse and grief for the loss of Blue, but at the same time, his death sets me free of the burden that this lifestyle has held over me since I was a kid. I can breathe a little easier knowing I no longer have that crutch.

  “He’s dead?” Jett repeats.

  I add a little more depth into my crying, pulling it straight up from my gut, and let out a breath-shaking wail.

  “He OD’d. Gray tried to resuscitate him, but after working on him for a half hour, we gave up.”

  “Why didn’t you call 911?” Cole asks.

  “Because, just as we were about to, we heard all this racket. We came to check it out, thinking someone else needed help, but when Gray opened the door to the basement, this fucker attacked her. They fell down the stairs, tumbling head over feet. For a split second, Gray was out cold after she nailed her head on the last step, which gave him enough time to go at her. Thankfully, there was a metal tray nearby, so I grabbed it and came up behind him, smacking him right upside the head. When he fell over, I jumped him and started wailing on him.”

  Damn, she’s good.

  “Jesus,” Jett puffs into my hair. “Call it in.”

  Drew speaks up from behind us. “Just did. I have Andi waiting outside. I just came in to tell you a squad is on its way.”

  Jett’s voice vibrates against my ear. “Thanks, man.” He shifts me in his arms so he can dig in the back of his pants, and tosses some zip ties to Drew. “Hey, do me a favor. Tie this douche bag, will ya?”

  “Yeah, man,” Drew says

  A coolness rushes over me when the warmth of Jett disappears, but the heat returns when I’m being hoisted up off the floor and tucked into his side. “Let’s get you out of here.”

  I shuffle along with him, allowing him to lead me upstairs and out of the door that they busted through...all so he can feel like the hero. I keep my head down, and my tears flowing at a steady pace, and answer any questions that Jett asks. It’s not long before the mess of cops, fire fighters, and paramedics are on the scene. They have me sitting in the back of one of the ambulances cleaning up my face while another officer is asking me questions. I guess I might want to take mental notes of this process; all of this could come crashing down on me at any moment and I’ll need to be prepared for the wrath.

  I concentrate on the demeanor of the officer, the kinds of questions he’s asking me, and his facial expressions at how I answer them. At the beginning of his questioning, he was a tad standoffish...disconnected. Maybe he wanted to see if I turned out being sincere in my statement, but once I started to cry at the mention of Blue, he softened. Of course I am sincere, it’s only half an act. I do feel remorse and sorrow for the loss of Blue. Hell, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to save him if I didn’t love him. As far as the cook that’s being dragged out of the house as we speak, well, he’s one lucky son of a bitch. Thankfully, the fucker woke up; otherwise, I’m sure they would be taking him to the hospital to run tests, where they would find the sleepy time medicine that Jaz injected him with. Now, they’re shoving him in the back of a cop car. I catch the cook’s gaze as he’s being driven away. While his glare is accusing and menacing, mine is a promise...a promise that I will find a way to kill him, even if it means doing it from the inside. With a simple nod and a wink, I stare at him until he’s out of view.

  I wince and cower when a hand is placed on my shoulder. Why, I don’t know, but the officer’s hand on me pulls me from my death stare. “Don’t worry, Ms. Knight. He’ll be locked away for a while. You’ll be safe,” I hear him say.

  Looking up at him, I give him a grim smile. I’d like to laugh in his face and scoff, “Yeah right,” but I don’t. I keep my opinions to myself that the laws and who enforces them are a big fat joke. I don’t bother saying that I believe the criminals have more rights than the innocent. Where does that put me exactly? I’m a criminal, am I not? But at the same time, I’m the one who protects everyone from the cooks, the rapists, the abusers. I’m preforming a social service by wiping the earth free of these assholes. I just don’t think the rest of the world sees it as I do. So, I respond the way any normal victim would. “Thank you so much, Officer Price. I’ll sleep so much better knowing that he’s off the streets where he can’t hurt anyone else.”

  It’s not until I watch the coroner wheel a gurney with my brother’s dead body out of the drug slum of a house that the sadness from earlier resurfaces. Honestly, I have no qualms about death. I have seen it my whole life. Hell, it’s at my very hands that death is dealt out like a stack of cards at a blackjack table. But seeing Blue being pushed into the back of a white van with no windows in the back...well, let’s just say that my tears s
tream down my cheeks on their own free will.

  “You hangin’ in there?” Jett asks, coming around the back of the ambulance.

  I scoot over some so he can squeeze in next to me, wiping my face with my fingers. “I’ve had better days.”

  Jett leans behind me and grabs for something, then covers my shoulders with a blanket. I thank him with a weak smile and sniff back my tears. I have to admit that he knows how to be comforting. Jett begins to rub gentle circles on my back with his palm. The longer he does the calming motion, the more I lean into him until he has his arms wrapped around me and I’m sobbing into his shirt. Never in my life have I been so overtaken by emotion.

  Fuck, he smells good.

  Crying doesn’t seem so bad at the moment. With my face buried against Jett’s chest, I’m getting the whiff of his soap, or cologne...hmm, I think it’s just...him. His skin, his whole body, it smells divine...like I’m taking a walk in the forest after it rains. I wonder if he’d notice if I took one long, deep breath. Of course I do, ‘cause I’m a total loser. I attempt an even inhale, but I get a little carried away as I hit the peak of my breath, and moan as I release the air from my lungs. I immediately freeze, hoping he didn’t notice, but I tell ya, I don’t have the best of luck at all.

  “Did you just smell me?” he asks, tilting back so he can look down at me.

  I’m too much of a coward to look into his eyes, so I sit up straight with a snort. “Uh, no. Why on earth would I do that?”

  Jett chuckles, wiping his thumb across my cheek. “Oh, I dunno, because I smell pretty damn good, and because you’re weird enough to do it.”

  He’s laughing at me now, and all I can do is stare back at him like he sees how transparent I am and what I’m hiding. “I’m not weird.” There’s no conviction in my tone, only defensiveness.

  “We’re all a little weird,” Jett says, pecking my cheek with a kiss. “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

  Chapter 26

  Gray

  It’s possible, by not taking leave from school, that it might raise a few eyebrows. I didn’t tell a soul at work that Blue had been staying with me. Hell, no one knew I had a brother to begin with, so the school wouldn’t be any the wiser. But when Jett suggested I take some time off to grieve, I instantly shook my head no and proceeded to plead my case that I cope better if I keep busy. I don’t like idle anything...always need a good flow in life, otherwise things start to become chaotic. Thankfully for me, being that Jett has similar obsessive tendencies, he could see my point and agreed, saying that he kept himself busy after his wife had passed, which was the only thing that kept his sanity in check. Besides, I took my day to grieve. After I got home and locked myself in my house for the remainder of the weekend, I shed a few more tears for Blue. It’s the most I’ve cried...ever. And they were sincere tears. Amazing how when one little emotion kicks in, it opens the dam, and when it’s done having its fit, it goes back to being locked up tight.

  Like every other Monday, my students are slugs trying to get through the day, but they’re well behaved and do the work they need to do. With Thomas out of my class, the day moves smoothly with no hitches. It’s quite lovely, actually, not having to deal with his ass. Had I known how peaceful my days would be, I would have kicked him out of my room sooner. Maybe I should feel bad because he’s Jett’s son...but I don’t. Not at all. Is that due to my lack of empathy, my no compassion bone...perhaps. I guess I could have put a little more effort into working with Thomas, but then again, we know what my idea of working things out are.

  I’m tidying up my desk while my students work on their history test, and when I mean tidying, I mean scavenging for my bracelet as I organize my space. I still can’t find the damn thing. My attention is directed to the door of my classroom when there’s a knock coming from the other side. I push back from my desk and start to walk to the door, but it swings open and a large bouquet of flowers is being held out to me. Principal Baker’s head pops out from around the flowers as he hands them out to me. “These came for you, Ms. Knight.”

  “For me?” I ask, as if I didn’t just hear him say that they indeed were for me. “Um, thanks.” I bring them to my nose and inhale the beautiful scent of the stargazer lilies mixed with chrysanthemums and babies’ breath.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Ms. Knight. Why don’t you stop by my office after the last bell, all right?”

  No, that’s not all right. But I can’t say that, now can I? “Sure, no problem. And thank you, sir. I appreciate your condolences.”

  I spin around after Mr. Baker shuts the door and am welcomed with thirty sets of eyes on me. There’s some goofy grins and some saddened faces staring back at me. I smile back at them and say, “I know you all have seen some flowers before. Focus on your papers, please.”

  When their heads glance back down to their papers, I place the flowers on my desk then take a seat back in my chair. I pick out the envelope from the plastic card holder and pull out the card that’s inside. My heart begins to pound in my chest, and what should be butterflies is now dread.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Gray. May these flowers brighten your day and bring you happiness in a time of sorrow.

  XoXo, Jett.”

  You have got to be kidding me. Did he pull that out of his ass or straight off a Hallmark card? I don’t do well with sappy bullshit, and although the flowers are beautiful, this card sends a tingle down my spine...and not in a good way. I sit back in my chair and stare at the flowers, wondering what in the world I am going to do with them. Part of me wants to dump them in the trash...but then again, I want to enjoy them. I realize Jett doesn’t know that I have never mentioned Blue to anyone here at the school, but in a single kind gesture, he has now opened a whole compartment that I’ve been trying to keep to myself. It’s bad enough I have Jett, Drew, and Cole knowing what they know about me, but now the school...fuck.

  Every day I’m anxious for the last bell to ring because I can’t wait to get out of here and into my own element where I can let loose and be...well, me. But not today. Nope, not one bit. The last thing I want to do is have a mini powwow with Mr. Baker over my brother’s death. I don’t want to talk about it with him, or with anyone else for that matter. I just want to go home, curl up on my couch, and read a book. Is that too much to ask?

  I poke my head into Mr. Baker’s office and he waves his hand, motioning for me to come in. “Have a seat, Ms. Knight.”

  Oh for the love of God, I can already tell where this is going just by the tone of his voice. Somber and full of pity.

  “I wanted to tell you how sorry I am to hear about your brother, and wanted to let you know that we’re all here for you. If you need anything at all, Ms. Knight, I hope you would come to me. All you have to do is ask.”

  My head tilts to the side as my eyes grow thin. “What would I need to ask for?” Call me stupid, but what could he possibly think I need? I’m not a broken down, sobbing mess.

  Mr. Baker leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and clasps his fingers together. “Well, you know...if you thought talking to someone would help, or if you needed any time off. You have never missed a day of school, Ms. Knight. You have a better track record than anyone I have ever worked with. You’re hard working, kind, and are a teacher that is solely here because you genuinely care about the kids. If you need to take a couple days to sort things out, please, do so.”

  I contain the burst of laughter that’s caught in my throat. Solely here because I genuinely care about the kids...well, I’m a better actress than I thought. Yes, I do care about the kids, and it’s extremely important to me that they learn and expand their minds, but if this twat knew half the things I think about from time to time about my classes, he’d toss me right out on my ass and lock the door behind me. And for cryin’ out loud, do I really look like I need to talk to someone? Do I really need a shrink? Wait, don’t answer that. I suppose I do for other reasons, but for the loss of my brother...no.

  “Thank yo
u so much, Mr. Baker. Like I said before, I greatly appreciate your condolences and your concern, but I’m okay. Really. I never talked about Blue because we have had a strained relationship since we were kids. He was on drugs most of his life, so I guess you can say that I was already mentally prepared for such tragic events. I don’t want to downplay the severity of the event, but I want to assure you that I am fine. Yes, I’m sad, but I can separate what happens in my personal life from what needs to be done here at work. Besides, I need to be here. The students help keep my mind off things. They make me laugh, which is one of the best forms of healing, right?”

  Damn, I can sure dish out a load of bullcrap.

  He smiles at me with a nod of his head. “You’re right. Well, it appears that you have things under control. If anything changes, please, don’t hesitate to ask for help.”

  “I sure will, sir.” I excuse myself, but as my hand reaches for the door, it dawns on me. How did he even know about Blue to begin with? I turn around, trying to read his face. He looks like a dumb troll with a dumbass grin on his face. “How did you even know those flowers were because I had a loss?”

  Mr. Baker shifts in his seat, clearly caught off guard by my questions. “Oh, um, the delivery driver said, ‘sorry for your loss’ as he left, so...” His voice tapers off.

  I press my lips together on a nod, then shrug my shoulders. “Okay,” is all I say. It’s not until I reach my car that I realize that Mr. Baker mentioned being sorry for the loss of my brother. A brother he didn’t know I had. But he said the delivery driver only said sorry for your loss.