by Melissa Jane
Nothing.
When my eyes once again grew heavy, the enraged voices cut through the night.
They came from next door.
The Carter house.
Flinging the bed sheets off, I padded over to the window, searching the adjacent room for any sign of Lucas.
His bedroom was dark, yet with the soft silver glow of the moon, I could just make out a moving figure.
“Lucas!” I gently called. The figure continued moving, unresponsive to my voice. “Lucas!” I called again. This time, whoever it was stopped what they were doing and stepped toward the window.
His face was marred with sadness. The Lucas I knew and loved was slipping away.
Pressing his fingers to his lips, he signaled for me to remain quiet. Nodding, I penned a note to send across.
He waited silent and still until the peg reached him, the cat bell dinging along the way. I watched as he read the note and quickly replied. Beneath us, the shouting continued. I could hear Lucas’s mom, her voice strained and hurt. The other voice belonged to a man I didn’t know. He was irate, possibly drunk and didn’t hold back on cussing.
My heart pounded in my chest as the note made its journey back. Unfolding the thick textured paper I’d chosen from the stationery shop, I read his message, his writing lacking its normal neatness under mine.
Are you ok?
Can you meet me on the roof?
Scrunching the note, I met his pained eyes and nodded. He took a step back, disappearing from the window and melting into darkness. Treading quietly on the floorboards despite hearing my parents howling with laughter beneath me, I crept through the upstairs hall to the study. Only a few inches shy of the study’s window was the thick branch of an oak tree that sat deeply rooted on our side of the drive. Bum on the window sill, I swung my legs until my feet touched the smooth bark of the oak. I wasn’t scared to climb it, I’d done the very same thing since I was a child. Using the top branch for balance, I walked the length of the tree like a gymnast, skirting around the trunk when it came time. Once on the other side, I could step right out onto the Carter’s porch roof where I would meet Lucas. He was already waiting, hand extended to pull me up to the highest peak of the roof. That was always the hardest part due to the steep incline, and impossible to do on my own. He heaved me up until I was sitting next to him staring out over the sleepy neighborhood. The only noise emanated from below.
I took Lucas’s hand in mind and held it tight. It was unusually cold and clammy. My concerned gaze met only with his profile. He wouldn’t turn and look at me. Instead, he kept his steady stare glued on nothing in particular. His mind was elsewhere, lost to the darkness.
In that moment, I realized Lucas Carter’s life was forever changing. Changing for the worse.
“Who’s that with your mom?” I asked gently, my thumb rhythmically gliding over his.
In the moonlight, I could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.
“Her new guy,” he said as if detesting the very thought.
On Mason’s insistence, Lucas had stopped talking about his family when his dad left. He would simply change the subject if ever I tried to broach it. Without realizing, I squeezed his hand and brought it to my lap where I could hold it with both hands. It was then I noticed the heavy bruising extending from Lucas’s wrist to the inside of his elbow. Reckless fingerprints marring his skin that not even the shadows of the night could hide.
“Did your mom’s boyfriend do this to you?”
No answer.
“Lucas, is your mom’s boyfriend doing this to you?”
This time he gave a curt nod but continued to look the other way.
“And that time we found the cabin? Did he give you those, too?”
Another nod.
Grief had long left me. Now I was consumed with pure unadulterated rage.
“I was trying to protect my mom,” he started in a low voice. “But that only seemed to make the situation worse. It made him angrier.” I noticed he refrained from saying the man’s name. For good reason.
“Why’s your mom allowing him to stay?” I asked, incredulous that she would put her sons’ lives in danger.
“He comes and he goes. When he comes, Mom greets him with a big smile, and they lock themselves away in her room for days. He doesn’t say a word to Mason or me. Then the drinking starts, and he suddenly believes Mom’s his worst enemy. He doesn’t like the way the food is cooked. He doesn’t like what she’s wearing. He hates that she has two boys who come home from school every day. He hates that we try to protect her. He hits her and makes her cry. But then when he leaves, she cries some more. She locks herself away in her bedroom again until the day he walks back through the door.”
My stomach churned, feeling at a loss for what to say or do. My best friend was suffering, and he’d been keeping it quiet for the sake of holding the family together.
“Your dad isn’t coming back?”
Lucas shook his head slowly. “Haven’t seen him since he left. A man that walks out like that surely doesn’t care much anyway.”
The shouting beneath us intensified. The sound of glass shattering on tiles was followed by the splintering of wood, almost like a fist going through the kitchen cupboards. Lucas flinched while we listened to his mother cry.
I started to cry and swiped angrily at the tears.
“Where’s Mason?” I stammered.
“Nursing a bloodied nose in the bathroom.”
“Lucas!” A gravelly voice, one that carried a heavy burden, barked from behind. We turned in unison to see Mason standing at the attic window, eyes narrowed, nose swollen and still bloody, and a bruised cheek that had come into contact with an angry fist. I hadn’t seen it before because of how we’d been sitting, but Lucas’s right cheek was also bruised, a long, messy wound traveling the length of the bone. It looked as if a ring had torn at his flesh.
Tentatively, I touched his face and for a brief moment, he closed his eyes and leaned into my touch. “Lucas,” I sobbed, “he can’t get away with this. I’ll tell my parents everything. They’ll get—”
“Lucas! Get inside,” Mason warned.
“You should go,” Lucas nervously whispered.
“Come home with me. Please,” I begged. But Lucas would never leave his family in this condition. He’d take his last breath fighting for what he believed in.
Solemnly, he nodded. “My mom… you know I can’t.” He gave a small, sad smile, his pinkie grazing mine. “Bye, Gem.”
He was on his feet, carefully navigating the roof before I could forge a reply. Mason moved to the side while Lucas climbed through the attic window. With my best friend disappearing back into his volatile house, Mason re-emerged.
“Go home, Gem,” he said sternly.
“Mason, are you okay?” That was a stupid question. Of course, he wasn’t okay. I was nervous and scared. “My mom… she can see to your face if you… want?” I asked, tentatively.
While Lucas carried the hurt, Mason carried the anger and the burden of his crumbling family. He was hardened by it all. His stony demeanor accentuated by the eerie moonlight made him look simply terrifying.
“Are you deaf? I said, you need to leave,” he responded through clenched teeth.
“Fine...” I raised my hand to placate him, “… I’m going.” Swallowing hard, I prepared to slide down to the porch roof when his low and husky voice stopped me.
“Gemma.”
I glanced over my shoulder and met the glistening whites of his eyes.
“Yes?”
“Stay out of my family’s business.”
~
I crawled back into bed, and lay awake staring at the roof. My math exam was first up in the morning, and I knew the algebra equations were going to defeat me. That was Lucas’s forte and one he’d tried many times to teach me. He was patient and kind while I struggled with even the basics of it. I was more artistic than academic, but Lucas swore he could make a mathematician out of
me yet. I didn’t have the heart to tell him his efforts went through one ear and out the other. Not by choice. It just wasn’t a strength of mine. But figuring out why X equals Y wasn’t at the top of the food chain for priorities.
I never wanted to tell him his time was wasted. I enjoyed his company far too much to lose it.
A silent tear trickled down my cheek. The torn skin on Lucas’s face would scar. It would serve a permanent reminder of his teens. My heart ached for the Lucas who didn’t deserve any of this. For the Lucas who was abandoned by his father and neglected by his mother. And for the Lucas who was forced into battle with the sadistic boyfriend.
The tears smeared across my cheek when I swiped angrily at them. I wanted to run down the hall to my parents’ room and tell them everything. I wanted to tell them of the violence happening just next door. I wanted them to reassure me they’d fix it.
But Mason’s stern warning left me feeling helpless.
The cat bell tinkled into the otherwise silent night. Dashing across the floor to the window, I came face to face with Lucas. We both smiled, small and solemn. I gave a little wave, and through the dark void separating us, Lucas returned the gesture. The yelling had ceased, and all the lights were off. For now, the Carter boys could rest knowing that tomorrow was a new day. Or they could spend the night wondering how they could fix the situation. Lucas pointed to the message that had arrived which I’d forgotten.
Retrieving it from the peg, I unfolded the small piece of paper and wept silently over the heartbreaking words.
I wish we could run away together.
Chapter 14
NOW
“Gem,” David, my boss, sighed heavily into the phone. He was on speaker which made his disappointment all the more glaring. “It really is last minute, and the exhibit is due for installation tomorrow.”
“I know, and I apologize.” I was sincere. The thought of leaving town when there was yet another huge show due to start was not ideal, and in my eyes, unprofessional. “I’ve trained Charlie well, and I’ll give him detailed and precise instructions.”
It was six in the morning, and I was already on my way out heading north to Maine. I’d planned to leave early knowing the roads were quieter. If the detectives were correct in assuming I’d be followed, at least they’d be more visible. So far nothing was out of the ordinary. I knew David to be an early riser for his dawn gym sessions, so calling him this early wasn’t uncivilized.
“I’m not so sure I share the same faith in Charlie as you do.” He sounded skeptical, but Charlie had been a great asset to me, as long as he steered clear of the opening night ‘open bar.’ “There’s a lot riding on this, Gemma, especially after the last horror story of Maximus Kline.”
“I know and trust me, he won’t be filing a suit against the gallery. He was very understanding given the situation.”
“Lucky we had you to talk him off the ledge.” There was a playful smile in his voice. David was still unaware of my unwitting involvement in the vandalism. If he knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation as Charlie would have been promoted the next day without any doubt of his performance. Business is business, and me being there was a danger to the gallery’s reputation.
“The next exhibit will be great, and, in fact, I know it will bring more of a crowd than Maximus’s did.”
“You should be here,” he said with an edge of disappointment. “But since you’re not, you’ll have to come out for dinner with me when you return.”
My heart sank to a pounding beat. He always did this. Putting me in an uncomfortable position was his forte. David liked to watch me squirm by pushing the boundaries of our professional relationship.
“David, I—” Knowing rejection was imminent, I barely started before he cut me off.
“Think about where would be nice to eat. A new wine only bar opened up a block over from the gallery. Anyway, I have to shoot off. Take care of Charlie for me, would you? I’m counting on you to pull this together from wherever you’re off to.”
Again, before I could respond David had ended the call, and I was left formulating yet another excuse that would close the deal to another date, while still keeping hold of my job. The result would see me upon my return, resigning and looking for another gallery position, hopefully higher up the ranks without the unsolicited advances from my employer. But for now, I had greater issues to run from.
~
Two hours later, I arrived in Maine. With lush green grass and purple wisteria trees in full bloom framing the driveway of my parents’ house, I could finally feel a sense of relief. Exhaling heavily and shaking off the negative energy from the last week, I found myself looking forward to a few days of peace. The car bobbed and dipped as I navigated the dirt drive to the side of the house where I parked and retrieved the bags of groceries I’d bought in town.
The house was a labor of love for my father who had spent countless hours reshaping and remodeling until the once rundown house morphed into a beautiful home. Mom, always the decorator and fan for fashion, adorned every room with an elegance found only in homemaker magazines. They’d moved from Little Valley, Delaware when I started my first year of college.
The key had only just slid into the lock when Mrs. Harper sang out from across the white picket fence dividing the properties. “Yoo-hoo,” she sang, giving an enthusiastic wave. “Hi, Gem darling.”
Forgetting about the key which required some elbow grease, I waved back and smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Harper.”
“Look at you…” she crooned, pulling off her gardening gloves, “… you get more beautiful every time I see you.”
“Thank—”
“I can’t even remember the last time I saw you. Did you get the birthday card I sent? You can never trust the postal system these days, everything goes missing.”
“I did and thank—”
“How long are you staying, darling?”
“Well, not—”
“Are you still seeing that fine young chap, Peter?”
“Yes, I—”
“He’s good for you, darling. You know they say couples start looking like each other after some time.”
“No, I didn’t know—”
“But you two still have a while to go before that happens. A bit like how dogs and their owners look the same.”
“Ah… that’s—”
“Will Peter be joining you this stay? It would be lovely to see him again.”
“No, he—”
“I tell you what… if you don’t feel like cooking later on, I have stew in the slow cooker. I’ll bring some by.”
“You don’t need—”
“Nonsense! It’s lovely to see you again, darling. I must shuffle on. These obnoxious weeds won’t pull themselves out.”
And just as quick as she appeared, Mrs. Harper disappeared behind the fence. Exhaling, I rolled the tension from my shoulders. Talking with my parents’ neighbor often felt like getting caught in a whirlwind.
Once inside, I opened a few windows to allow the house to air out after a week of being closed and stuffy, and unpacked the groceries. Cracking open a new bottle of Sauvignon, I poured a glass of wine and relished the fruity taste. As I nestled into the plush sofa, my cell buzzed.
Charlie.
Charlie: Biatch! I owe you.
I smiled knowing how much this opportunity meant to him.
Me: Don’t let me down. There’s a lot riding on both our shoulders.
Charlie: I’ll be so awesome at it, you won’t even have a job when you get back! HA!
No doubt!
Chuckling at his enthusiasm, I took another delightful sip of wine and contemplated how I could stop my life from unraveling before my eyes. I didn’t fancy sharing the same space with Mason Carter. So I had to track down Lucas, and with any luck get him to put a leash on his brother. Mason needed a friendly reminder by someone he’d listen to, that to this point I’d held up my end of the bargain and he had to do the same.
The truth
was, I didn’t know what I’d seen that night.
I didn’t have the answers to solve the case.
All I had was a split-second, decade-old memory.
And a warning from Mason Carter to keep my mouth shut.
But according to the detectives, someone had been killed, their body discovered in the woods not far from the cabin. If Lucas and Mason were indeed involved, the right thing would be to tell the detectives what I’d witnessed. But what I witnessed didn’t necessarily correlate to the murder of this mystery man. I had no proof the two were connected. The brothers were young, incapable of being involved in a murder case.
But why the insistence to keep quiet? Why the harassment?
In any situation, Lucas would be the answer. The problem was, I hadn’t a clue how to find him.
For years after Lucas left without saying goodbye, I wrote him letters that would never be sent. They would never have a recipient because I didn’t know to where the Carters had moved. Lucas never attempted, not even once, to make contact. Writing the letters had been therapeutic as I mourned the loss of our friendship. I loved him, even if it was considered teenage love, and I knew he felt the same. I cried most nights into my pillow, hushing whenever my mother’s footsteps stopped outside my door. She knew I was sobbing but also knew she couldn’t bring him back.
Then one day I woke, determined to put the past behind me.
That day I decided I no longer wanted to feel the pain.
That meant letting go of everything Lucas Carter.
Chapter 15
The sun was still shining when I pulled the blinds closed in the guest room. I had a week of sleep to catch up on, and I could finally do so in peace. Leaving a note on the front door, Mrs. Harper would know to try again another time. Pulling out my laptop, I curled up on the armchair, glass of wine on the side table, and began my search. My first port of call was an obvious one—checking all social media accounts. Numerous results matching the name appeared, yet none were of the boy I knew so long ago.