by Elena Monroe
Finally sitting her half-naked ass down on the tabletop, she faced me. “You know… I went to her, crying my eyes out, and all she did was tell me I was ruining her happy ending? She took away the only happiness I knew as a kid by moving us there. But still, all she cared about was herself.” She paused, trying to hold back tears when she looked in another direction and paused as a single tear cascaded down her cheek. “I tried so many times to tell her I was miserable, that Elias—that Denmark was hell. I would ask her repeatedly to let me call you at least once… She just turned the other cheek every single time.”
I sank further into the couch being dragged back to the day everything fell apart. Every painstakingly bad memory flapped its wings like her precious butterfly in my mind, causing a storm I’d rather forget.
Age 13
Tuesday was the worst day of the week; it was the day Eve’s mom pretended to be a mom. It was the day they’d go shopping, get lunch, check in—pretend it was all normal.
On Tuesday, my room seemed a lot bigger and the day dragged by with quiet, depressing boredom without her presence surrounding me.
I was being hugged by the bean bag chair I had kicked in front of my TV with a controller in hand that was booting up alongside my Xbox. Getting lost in some form of entertainment was all I could do to avoid missing her.
Fully immersive experiences only.
The rain coming down in buckets in LA wasn’t normal, but it happened. Eve always said it was bad luck, but I liked how it drowned out the thoughts swirling around my head.
Deep in concentration, Eve barreled through my bedroom door, soaking wet and clearly upset when my whole body went into a panic. I didn’t have to ask, something in me was tethered to her and knew something was wrong.
“She’s making me leave. The new guy… they’re getting married, Bowey. The suitcases are in the taxi.” I had never seen Evey cry like this, only her butterfly got her to cry and that was heartbreaking enough never mind how she was now.
“Right now? Why didn’t you tell me? We can run away together.” I would feel betrayed but there wasn’t time.
Grabbing the knife off my nightstand, I barely made it to her when some stranger grabbed her by both arms and pulled her back effortlessly.
All immersive but none of it good.
I didn’t think before my hand drove forward and his deep voice yipped at the cut I gave him as the blood bled through his crisp white shirt. It didn’t stop him though; he still held onto Evey and didn’t let go.
Maybe she was stronger than me.
Maybe this only worked for her against my enemies.
Running after them, I didn’t let myself feel defeated when I followed behind the car. My feet chased after them as I watched her cry through the back window. The rain weighed me down more and more with every new step, but I kept running until I lost them. I ran until the tears were dried up.
When I got home there were black vans and guys wearing windbreakers with the logo for the FBI. When I finally got past the door, I threw up my hands and surrendered like I was the reason they were all here when my mom rushed over asking about Eve.
“Have you seen Eve, Bowen? When was the last time? This is important. Their house is empty and she didn’t go to school.” My mom’s voice was filled with enough worry to fuel a country of bad parents.
Already pulling myself from her grasp, I headed for the stairs, knife still in my tight fist that went numb hours ago. “They took her. Her mom’s new boyfriend moved them away.”
Every day after that seemed to blur together when I refused to get out of bed, refused to shower, refused to pack for Patmos. I was a shell of myself the day she left.
No more blue to color my black and white world.
BOWEN
All night I relived memories I had locked away, dark parts of my mind that were still mourning the distance we suffered.
Eve was fast asleep on top of me on the couch where I was too scared to move from; if she woke up, it would mean more drinking and it was painful to watch.
Car crash in slow motion.
Her cheek was pressed into my chest, and her tears that made a wet spot had dried. I managed to get the bottle out of her grasp and push it onto the table while I let her fall asleep.
There was nothing I could say to make this better, so I settled for being a pillow.
Under any other circumstances, I would have let myself give in to her body. The damn silk was doing nothing as a barrier with her pressed against me, but right now I was just her comfort.
After almost every limb fell asleep, I decided it was time to put Eve in my bed. I needed an outlet and a strong drink while I contemplated the possibilities of what Elias did. Whatever it was, was bad enough to have her in tears and enough to make Eve hate her mom even more for not giving a shit about it.
Picking her up carefully in my arms, I watched her curl into me, arms wrapping around my neck while still half asleep. Climbing the stairs and making it to my bed, I kneeled into the mattress, placing her down carefully when her arms only held on tighter.
“Bowey,” her voice was soaked in need that I wasn’t strong enough to reject when I tried to pull away.
She’s scrappy and frail but no part of her weak. She’s the strongest person I know.
Sitting up, I felt her lips hit mine when I tasted the Hennessey making me a weaker man than I already was for her. Her tongue licked at my lips and her arms secured themselves around my neck.
I was wrapped around her finger just like when we were kids, and I didn’t care if it made me the weak one in this relationship. For once, I didn’t care how anything looked.
Falling more into my palms, I couldn’t help but sink into her, letting her take over my mouth. Her legs wrapped around mine, pulling me further in and her hands snuck under the hem of my shirt, skimming my ribs while her tongue pushed against mine.
Putting my weight into my knees, I pulled myself away while her mouth chased mine and she whispered against my lips, “Bowey, please just love me.”
Her words broke me in ways I didn’t plan for. Where there had been a vacant space, she filled it with all the ways she wanted me to love her.
Sitting back on my heels, I kept my face close to hers. “I do love you, Evey. You need intimacy right now, not sex. We both have to learn what those look like. I have a feeling your scars look like mine.”
Leaning in, I kissed her nose trying to prove to myself there were definitive lines between the two, this was the intimacy that I never got in all those summer nights. “Try to sleep it off. I’ll be downstairs.”
Pulling away completely, I disappeared into my closet in search of some workout clothes before I changed into them. I had a bag downstairs hanging from the ceiling that I took my aggression out on when killing someone was unacceptable.
With my Under Armour on and my wraps hanging over my shoulder, I glanced towards Evey who was now fast asleep again under the influence of Henny.
Downstairs, I had a space with a bag and a ring; I wasn’t a professional, but hitting things made it easier to not kill people.
Wrapping my fingers, snaking through each one, I jogged down the stairs already feeling relief just being down here. Dropping my hands down, I felt the new weight of the wraps that are supposed to protect my hands. Normally the taste for blood soaks through, leaving bruises instead of blood stains.
Warming up, I bounced on my toes and tapped the bag lightly—enough to get reacquainted with the leather.
Boxing is supposed to silence the demons, but my demons grew too big and now I was forced to hear their complaints.
Through all the thoughts, theories, truths, and lies swimming around my head, all my demons were on the same page: Elias was the root of Eve’s pain.
Jab.
And for that he had to die. It would be the only way she’d start to heal.
Jab.
I was determined to break the bag when I kept driving my hands into the it with the idea of killing him
pulling my lips into a smirk.
I kept punching until my lungs and arms burned too much to keep going.
My mouth tried to take giant breaths of air in but I was pulsing against recovery when my stomach clenched into a ball. Just making it to the trash can, I threw up all the humanity and feelings poisoning my body that only knew how to survive—not feel.
Wiping my mouth with the spare towels I kept downstairs, I tried to relax while my forearms rested on the top of my head.
My phone vibrated and lit up with the name mom, forcing me to answer the phone as I stayed silent waiting for her to speak.
“Bowen,” she said it like it was some kind of new punctuation when I took a deep breath.
“Yes, mother?”
Pulling the phone away from my ear, I put it on speaker and fell down to the bench waiting for whatever she had to say.
“Tell me you weren’t responsible…” her voice wasn’t angry or even annoyed, she simply wanted to know.
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head in disbelief realizing I should just start saying yes if I was going to be questioned by everyone. “No, mother, I didn’t kill her parents. Vic has that market covered. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
I could hear the disappointment in her voice that I wasn’t responsible for slaying Eve’s demons.
Her parents weren’t the demons; it was Elias who made her uncomfortably scared.
“Two days, Bowen. Presence is required when the Clave is footing the bill. We’ll have the wake here, closed caskets, and then the bodies will be flown to Denmark. Two days.” She stressed the days more than once and I couldn’t figure out why before the line went dead.
Holding my phone between my legs, I toyed with her illusive clues to something I didn’t know I was searching for.
My mother certainly knew more than she was saying.
Two days until the wake.
All my mind thought about was this would be two days of babysitting Eve with hopefully some form of detox from all of her drinking before the wake.
Making all the necessary arrangements, I texted Donte and the guys to make sure my ass was covered from unexpected guests showing up.
ME: Taking a few days off for a wake.
DONTE: Celebrating your deaths too? Did it lose the spark?
ME: Won’t be at work for a few days.
VIC: Let us know if you need anything.
Cursing out loud, it just dawned on me that I left the folder on my desk. I looked up at the ceiling trying to contemplate if I could leave Eve alone long enough to go back to get it.
Jogging upstairs, I checked on her once more, still passed out, before I grabbed my keys and headed for the office still in my workout clothes.
Using my teeth, I unwrapped my hand one at a time, cruising down the road at a rapid speed. My neighbor across the road was some old woman who was infamous in my life for calling the cops. With Rodriguez on our side, shit was easier to deal with but still annoying.
If anyone woke up Eve sleeping off a hangover, I might just succumb to being the unhinged murderer everyone apparently thinks I am.
I didn’t even bother turning off my car or closing the door when I took the stairs three at a time up to my office. I was trying to be quick, keep my head down and avoid any kind of triggers of me being here after hours. Breezing past the desk that Chevy normally sat at, I pushed open my door to see her sitting at my desk.
A place she hated even entering. She never closed the door and never stayed more than sixty seconds, yet here she was.
Her face blushed and her hands dropped down to her lap in embarrassment. She was caught but I didn’t know what she was caught with until I rounded the desk to see my desktop opened to Donte’s file—something I only had access to.
None of the other guys knew anything about Donte or what we actually do.
“What are you doing?” I twisted around letting my ass perch on the edge of my desk while I waited for her answer.
She sat there, in my chair, clearly uncomfortable as she looked up at me. “I want answers and this badge gives me access to them. Donte wasn’t the one who took me, he’s just the one I left teeth mark on.”
Donte bitched about that for months, enough to grow the balls to suggest a muzzle for the girls. One I declined ever approving.
I didn’t know how to respond when I was here for the same reason—answers. We both wanted something the Clave was hiding from us.
I sighed heavily, reaching over as she flinched but tried to hide it when I grabbed the folder. “Don’t get caught.”
Leaving her behind my desk, I left my office when she laughed, shouting, “What’s with the panties? It’s creepy!” It made me laugh knowing the little things made Chevy uncomfortable. Maybe it would light a fire under her ass and get her to vacate my office quicker.
In my car, I thumbed through the folder, scanning and counting the pages with the small numbers dead center at the bottom to make sure it was here it in its entirety. As soon as I got to page twelve, it skipped right over to page fourteen like a misprint. Throwing the folder in the passenger seat, I hit my steering wheel with so much force I’m surprised my car didn’t somehow break or chose to malfunction.
There was one missing page like it could be chalked up as a mistake.
One page.
That one page had the power to enrage me with so much ease it felt unnatural. I wanted to burn the whole thing just for pissing me off, but I knew I needed the answers it held.
Once I pulled down my road, I spotted my mother’s gray Lamborghini parked along the curb.
Great. My house seemed fine on the outside so either she was here for no reason or something happened in Eve’s drunken stupor.
Pulling into my driveway, I tried to make it to the door without being spotted by her, but it was no use. My mother was the original steamroller and there was no escaping.
Stalking after me in her heels that clashed against the stone pathway leading up to the door, I had no choice but to agree when my mother decided to breeze her way into my house to let me know Eve’s warning signs weren’t just that—they were a reality.
A reality I could see infecting the happiness we were both so close to keeping forever.
“Elias is moving into the neighborhood to help with the transition and the loss of her parents. I tried to veto it, but the Clave thought it would be a good idea to have some kind of family close,” her voice was tight; she was pissed off.
I wouldn’t cross her; she grew up poor with no real means to be anything but threatening—not much to lose. Her opinion didn’t matter though, none of ours did. Nobody but the four fathers got a seat at the table.
I didn’t get to choose to not get married, to not have kids, to die instead of my brother so having any say in this was pointless. Whatever our four fathers decided was deemed the law and we were subject to follow it.
“You didn’t have to come in to tell me that. My front door is appropriate enough for this transfer of information.”
Having my mother in my house was the same as having her invade your space as a teenager, only now my room was the house. Squeezing my eyes closed, I paused, balling my fists so hard I felt my wrists tingle before I had to become more aware of my surroundings in her presence.
The discarded bottles.
The lack of food.
The wife I wasn’t entertaining.
The leftover chemistry Eve leaves everywhere.
“Don’t be an asshole, Bowen. I’m your mother and I can come to your home whenever I want.” She walked straight back between the two staircases curling their way into an archway that led down a hallway and to the kitchen at the back.
My mother wasn’t always like this, overbearing and consistently emotionally projectile vomiting all over me. A switch in her flipped when Braeden died instead of me that summer. When he died, she lost all ability to act like a normal mother. All those qualities that told you to let your child fall down and get scraped to learn their
lesson went out the window, and instead, I was handed a platter of smothering love meant for more than me.
So smothering I rejected it at every turn.
Now that I wasn’t truly her problem anymore it was even more of a strain to let my mother love me the way she wanted.
“Is there anything else? I have a headache. Her brother is coming to live in my neighborhood, fucking great.”
She stood there with her hip popped in her heels and dress that was probably designed for a much younger age group. She always had this way of dressing younger that made the other moms look down at her and respond by buying something their husbands wouldn’t allow.
The Astors were by definition the richest of all the families.
I’m sure my dad would wipe his ass with Versace if he didn’t like the designer so much.
Fidgeting with the rings on her fingers, I squinted trying to see what was coming next. “He’s unstable, unpredictable-” I could feel the words sitting on the tip of her tongue wanting to spill out.
Cutting herself off, I watched her discomfort grow right in front of me. Nothing makes my mother, Cecelia Astor, uncomfortable.
She was made of the shit that traumatized even your demons.
I didn’t know much about my mother’s life before me, only that it was the opposite of how she lived now. I could only imagine the kind of pain that makes your skin tough like hers.
“I’ll try not to kill him, happy?”
The warmth of her hands made me jump when she laid them over mine, I always figured she’d be cold to the touch, frozen in time from all the loss she had to endure. I was deprived of warmth and affection, hell, I was still figuring out the difference between sex and intimacy because my demons put them in the same category. “Eve has had it just as hard as you. Just be careful, Bowen.”
She knew things she wasn’t saying and now she confirmed it.
Pulling my hands out of her grasp, I felt the comfort of being cold, pulling me into the dark again, while her eyes dug into me. I could connect the dots without the staring and touching, her stepbrother is the reason she’s had a hard life.