by Jesse Grey
“You...know each other?” Hendrick said in Maxima’s direction, just as perplexed as the rest of them, all while she continued to stare over Athena.
“Athena Wheaton,” Maxima scoffed, shifting her stance as her Louboutin’s purred against the carpet. “I had no idea I’d really ever see you again.”
“Likewise.” Athena chuckled, walking over to her old friend and the pair sharing a brief hug while everyone was still quite confused.
“Maybe we should take a break from dinner.” Adelaide suggested, cackling nervously and allowing everyone to mingle.
Before anyone else took their attention, Kirby unraveled from Salem’s embrace and grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the va-cant foyer.
“Salem, it’s amazing to see you, you have no idea.” Her grin took up the entirety of her supple face. “But what are you doing here?”
“Me?” Salem smirked. “I’m still convinced that you’re a mirage.”
“I’m real, trust me.” she laughed. “What are the chances of us re-uniting here in Armor Falls?”
“Arclan Asylum brought us here.” he nodded.
“But what about your dad? And where’s Holly?”
“Don’t talk to me about Holly.”
His severely stern tone set Kirby’s nerves aflame, her caution ful-ly sizzling like the tapping of a taut snare drum. Salem saw the hurt throbbing in her eyes, quickly shaking off the grainy nature from his soul.
“I’m sorry. It’s just...a lot has happened, especially with Sahalia, in the past year.”
Kirby’s eyes flexed, knowing the feeling Salem’s words expressed all too well. “Tell me about it.”
Salem looked away from her then, catching Bridge’s eyes as he walked down a hallway alone, realizing that he had just hooked up with the young man at the bar not too long ago.
“Hey, we’ll delve into details later, okay?”
Simply nodding, Kirby smiled into another embrace with Salem, taking in his usual scent of leather. He retreated from the foyer, am-bling down the hallway until he found Bridge in the bathroom. He went inside, closing the door behind himself.
“This is ridiculous,” Bridge stated, one hand on his hip while the other combed the side of his head. “Why does every guy I end up with have some inevitable connection or plot twist to my life?”
Salem laughed. “Did we not have fun earlier?” He closed the space between them, letting his hands rest on Bridge’s hips.
“Stop.” He pushed his inked hands away from his body. “We had an amazing time, really amazing, actually, and I’m not denying that you’re insanely hot, because look at you.” Bridge just ignored Salem’s coy blushing, because it made him all the more adorable. “But you don’t even know my name.”
“Right, introductions.” he nodded. “I’m Salem.”
“Bridge. And Kirby’s boyfriend, Mercer, is my best friend. So tell me, Salem. What’s your connection to Kirby?”
Seconds sweat from the evening as Mercer found Kirby alone in the foyer. He had just watched Salem march off from her, having looked on at their exchange from afar. He made his way over to his girlfriend, watching her eyes change as she looked him over.
“Hey.” Mercer grinned. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Kirby absentmindedly stroked her chin fleetingly. “I just can’t believe he’s here.”
“Who is he?”
“That’s Salem Simon.”
Like the intensity of burning wreckage, all the six degrees of sep-aration fell into place for Mercer like descending dominoes. “It’s him.” He didn’t propose it as a question, since he knew that his as-sumption was valid and free of doubt.
“Yes,” she nodded, looking into the chasm of her boyfriend’s comforting cobalt orbs. “Salem is the father of my baby.”
18
MORIOR INVICTUS
When Alex woke up, he hadn’t been expecting to be woken by the excited, hushed, ramblings of his boyfriend. His eyes finally blinked away the sleep from his eyes, blurry vision eclipsing his view, taking in the empty bed scene.
Stirring his body awake, Alex flung his naked form off of the siz-able mattress and threw on his previously discarded trunks and made his way from the RV’s bedroom, finding a mostly naked Abram on his laptop, smiling wildly.
“If we’re going to lie to our parents about where we’re spending the night so we can have some alone time, can we at least get to wake up together?”
Abram looked up at Alex, apologizing with his cooling baby blues. “Sorry, babe.” Then he made a kissing face, which Alex quickly solved by placing a fast kiss on his lips. Taking a seat next to Abram on one of the couches, Alex tried to get his eyes to focus on the blar-ing bright light emitting from the focal laptop. Fortunately, the RV had its own Wi-Fi for them to access whatever Abram was up to.
“What are you doing anyway?”
Abram’s eyes became focused slits as they bulged against his sockets, looking from Alex and then back to his computer screen. “I found him.”
“Who?”
“Remember Monday when Reyna said her brother married Em-my Walker?”
“You found the brother?”
They both turned their eyes to the laptop, which was transfixed to a page on a business website of a distributing corporation. Abram’s finger went to a certain place on the screen, under the ‘about us’ link, where Abram’s eager digit hovered under the CEO’s name.
“Rephaim Walker?” Alex’s voice heightened.
“The only reason I found him is because Reyna works there too. She’s not nearly as high up, but they both work there. Together.”
“You’re sure it’s him?”
Abram nodded suggestively. “Positive. If Reyna won’t give us any answers, maybe her brother will.”
“Hopefully, especially since he was the one married to Emmy Walker.” Alex stood up abruptly, grabbing Abram as they lifted from the couch. “But let’s deal with that later, okay? And go back to bed.”
“Alex, we’re so close to finally knowing something.”
“I know, but since we’re not going to school today because of the funeral, we have all day to call and badger this guy.” Alex leaned closer and bent down to kiss Abram’s bare pecs. “Come back to bed with me.”
He allowed himself to get lost in the passionate kiss that Alex ini-tiated next, the couple making out as they pressed their bodies against each other’s overly hormonal bodies. And he hid a small grin that caressed his ego when he pulled apart and Alex unwillingly let out a grunt of frustration.
“One phone call, just one try.”
Slightly shaking his head after it dawned on him suddenly that Abram wasn’t going to let it go, at least not now, Alex gave a last nod of agreement. “Fine. As long as we take a shower afterwards.”
“Try and stop me.” Abram kissed him rapidly before he grabbed his phone to dial the number for the apparent Walker family busi-ness.
Abram was connected to a receptionist quickly, a bubbling voice colliding violently without abandon in his ear.
“Thank you for calling Anzhelika, how may I direct your call?”
“Uh, hi.” Abram wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to ini-tiate the conversation, especially when he didn’t really know what he was looking for. All he could think about was the fact that Reyna’s brother knew something that they didn’t. And that something was something they not only needed to know, but deserved to know af-ter everything they had been through. “I was trying to reach Mr. Walker.”
“Who may I ask is calling?” The man’s voice rang through loudly, a little less peppy than when he had first answered the phone, a little more guarded. But nothing about his tone indicated that he was any-thing other than curious.
He looked to Alex then, even though he knew Alex had no idea what he should say either, even if the call was on speakerphone. So he just blurted out an answer that was sort of true. “I’m, uh, a friend of his ex-wife’s.”
There was a large and loud palpable
pause on both ends of the phone call. Abram checked his cell, just to make sure that the call hadn’t dropped or anything. Nothing was wrong with the call how-ever. And Abram learned that the receptionist was just taking a mo-ment to choose his words particularly carefully before he spoke to him again.
“I’m sorry, but Mr. Walker doesn’t discuss topics not related to business.”
“I think his ex-wife...I think he has some type of connection, through his ex-wife, to Sumner Shadows.”
Another long break in dialogue occurred, but the receptionist was quicker than the prior pause. It was obvious, by his next set of speech, that he had absolutely every detail about who exactly Sumner Shadows was. “I don’t know who you are, but do not call here again with assumptions and half-hearted accusations unless you hold a warrant in your hand. Mr. Walker has been through enough without dimwitted calls that hold no merit.” His tone shifted to the efferves-cent one he had worn proudly earlier in the conversation, no longer heatedly whispering into the receiver. “Thank you for calling An-zhelika, you have a wonderful day.”
The receptionist hung up then, enabling both Alex and Abram to just glance at each other, soaking in everything that had just tran-spired from their collective efforts.
“Do you think they’ve gotten calls like this before?” Alex scoffed sarcastically.
“We’re obviously on the right track though. He recognized Sumner’s name.” Abram nodded. “Without question, this guy, Re-phaim, whoever he is, was married to Emmy Walker.”
“We should get ready,” Alex sighed. “We’re not going to get any further with this guy today. And Mom wants me to ride with the family before we go to the funeral.”
Knowing the need to shift his priorities, Abram nodded at his boyfriend, settling into the subdued sensations that came with knowing that in a few hours, he’d be attending the funeral of an innocent person who had been murdered way ahead of their time.
Kirby blamed the funeral as to why she was tearing apart her mother’s room. She hadn’t had much time to even deal with Salem being back in her life because knowing that her mother was in contact with Blanche was driving her to the very edge of sanity. And here she was, missing school on a Friday because she was going to the funeral of a young girl that had been killed, one her mother might have talked to on the very night she had died.
The Salem thing definitely brought back a lot of...well, every-thing for her. He had once been such a huge part of her life, and she’d admittedly be lying to herself if she voiced that she hadn’t missed the person she always had and always would consider her best friend. But him being back left a tremor of problems to shudder her soul, that she normally avoided, the topics wide awake again after being left to a neglected hibernation for longer than she had time to focus on. It made her strangely glad that Salem was busy adjusting to life in Armor Falls so that they both could garner some perspective. That way, they could prepare themselves for their inevitable ‘catching up’ conversation.
But right now, she had bigger things to tackle. Kirby was scav-enging around her mother’s room for more evidence that pieced to-gether her mother’s relationship with the late Blanche Baxxen. Kirby already had the letter that Blanche had addressed to Athena, but all it contained was a short scrawled cry for help and a phone number. Kirby figured there was no point in calling the number now, since it was probably already disconnected. All she wanted to know was what they had talked about and why Athena had risked everything to let Blanche believe that her mother was a safe place to turn to.
“There has to be something.” she said to the empty room, know-ing that no one was around to hear her musings, but needing to ver-bally assure herself that giving up wasn’t an option she could access.
There was a nagging, gnawing voice in the forefront of her mind that told her to check the self-proclaimed vault, where Athena kept her most prized pieces of both couture and self-spun fashion. It only made sense to look there next. Kirby drew back the pair of doors to her mother’s massive closet and found herself sitting at the vanity, going through the drawers for anything out of the ordinary, some-thing that had been added upon her earlier entry into the vault itself. She found her answer in the bottom right drawer of the pearl white vanity. Kirby knew the contents of the makeup station as well as her mother did. And lying in the drawer among her mother’s discarded designs was a flash drive. One that hadn’t been there before Home-coming.
She flew out of the matriarch’s room and made haste downstairs to the living room, instantly finding her laptop on the coffee table, opening it up and throwing the flash drive into its designated USB port.
It took her computer just a second to embrace the flash drive as compatible, a window displaying its contents on her laptop screen. Only one file resided on the device, a video file. With slightly quak-ing tips in her fingers, Kirby double-clicked on the file and waited for it to play.
“If you’re watching this right now, chances are you already know who I am.” Blanche spoke as soon as she filled the entirety of the screen, Kirby’s eyes begging for an exit as overwhelming fear singed her entire body with a sweep of emotions. “But in case it hasn’t hit you yet, my name is Blanche Baxxen.”
The front door to the Wheaton home swung open as her mother glided in looking like a wilted orchid from having worked night shift. Athena turned to greet her daughter, but she heard Blanche’s voice, her dark eyes going right for Kirby’s computer.
“Turn it off!” Athena screamed.
Just shocked by the intensity caught in her mother’s throat, Kirby obliged by shutting the lid of her laptop, and Blanche’s post-mortem uttering by proxy.
“Mom, enough avoiding. What’s going on?”
Setting down her purse on an end table by the door, Athena found a seat next to her daughter on the living room couch, grabbing the flash drive and closing a fist around it. Kirby shifted on the fur-niture as she faced her mom for an answer.
“Kirby,” Athena began. “The video you found...it’s dangerous.”
“Everything about this, Sumner, Blanche, all of it, has been dan-gerous.” Even though she was speaking to her mother in a tone she wouldn’t have previously, Kirby saw reflected in Athena’s eyes that her mother knew that she understood the stakes they had been living in since moving to Armor Falls. “I’ve seen the note, Mom.” she ad-mitted quickly. “All it had was her asking for assistance and a num-ber for you to call, but I assume she wanted you to meet her.” Once again, Kirby’s affirmations were confirmed as Athena’s eyes expand-ed like orbs of yeast. “So did you?”
“Yes.” Athena expressed, forgoing any hindrances of verity. “But listen to me, really grasp what I’m saying, because this is super im-portant. Blanche knew the risks and she still…” Emotion demanded attention over her entire body as she tried to suffocate her senti-ments enough to be able to continuing speaking, but Kirby could see the internal struggle as she closed her eyes.
“I understand, Mom. You know I do. Just tell me what hap-pened.”
Her mother steeled herself as her eyes locked on Kirby’s. “You can’t tell anyone what I’m about to say. Not Mercer, not your friends, no one.” Athena sighed. “Because I’m almost certain I was the last person to see Blanche Baxxen alive.”
Cool air met Athena’s oval face as she stepped out of her car, fleeing from her vehicle as her pumps left half-heavy imprints in the grass of West-brooke Park. It was the night of Westbrooke High School’s Homecoming and Kirby and Mercer had just left the house to arrive at the event. That’s when Athena had called Blanche and agreed to meet. She had to try to help. She had to try. Athena found herself at one of the park’s gazebos to wait for Blanche.
As her nurse at Arclan, Athena knew that the young woman hadn’t committed the crime that had landed her behind the thick walls of the asy-lum. She knew Blanche didn’t, couldn’t, have hurt her mother enough to send her into a life-threatening coma. And she also believed her when she claimed that Sumner was the real culprit connected to th
e assault of Veronica Baxxen. Since then, Athena had taken to Blanche, looking after her. And when the incident occurred that allowed Blanche to escape Arclan, Athena had just been worried about her and was seeking her own answers as to why Blanche felt the need to run.
“Athena.”
Looking at the gazebos opening, the older of the two women took in the vibrant young features of her former patient turned fugitive. She hadn’t even heard her approach, too wrapped up in her own thoughts to listen out for anyone. The dark hue of the night told her that the sort of mishap of not listening out for anything could end very badly if she wasn’t careful.
“Blanche.”
Smiling on a miniscule scale, the shorter brunette embraced the leggy blonde warmly for a few measures, the pair separating shortly thereafter.
“Thanks for meeting me.” Blanche nodded.
“Of course.” Athena stepped closer to the young girl, her eyes scanning beyond them for potential eavesdroppers and onlookers, unlike before. “You said you were finally going to tell me what’s been happening, why every-thing’s been so crazy.”
“I am,” Blanche gestured positively, her hands reacting to the cool envi-ronment thriving amongst them by twitching in small seizures of moderate magnitude. “In a way. I can’t just outright tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want you to end up in the morgue.” She wasn’t jolted by Athena’s retort to the truth, which involved the blonde jerking wildly to her words. “I’m only attempting to trust you with this because I’m afraid some-thing…that something might happen to me.”
“Blanche—”
“Athena, just listen. I have to get going soon.”
“Alright, alright.” She tried her best to remain calm and listen to her young friend and not outwardly show that she was panicked and scared. “Go ahead.”
“You have access to patient files, right?”
“Correct.”