CUT HERE (The Cut Series Book 1)

by Azzurra Nox

  Right after Amelia’s memorial, Hope had seen a girl with her same red hair on the roof of the school. She hadn’t wanted to tell Jon because he would think her mad, because even if he believed in the protective spells, talking about ghosts was something else. Grabbing the pen, she quickly scribbled down the few facts she needed to share with Jon next time she saw him. In a couple of days it would be prom night, and Hope wanted to take that opportunity to put a protective spell on the whole school, and perhaps it would help keep safe all the students that attended there.

  She shut the notebook, but couldn’t take her eyes off of Peg’s sad eyes peering at her from the screen and her plea to let it all go. To give up on stopping Adriel, but it was impossible for her to do so. She couldn’t allow someone else to die because of her. Adriel had taken Jake from her, and she couldn’t overlook that. If only she had warned him in time. Taken Adriel’s threat more seriously or at least had told someone that he was in danger. There couldn’t be another death. Too many deaths were hovering over their heads and the school felt like a graveyard of broken hearts. They all needed a break from all this tragedy. There had to be a way for them to stop Adriel, even if it meant that they would have to negotiate with Michael to join them in their plan. But days had gone by without signs of him at school. Prom was only two days away. The clock was ticking. She could only hope that he’d show up by then. That’s only if angels kept their dates with their human significant others, she mused with a skeptical smirk. She closed out the website she had been surfing so that she could go back to Gram Ginnie before she’d drink herself into a drunken stupor as usual. Little time for big plans. Girls her age were preparing to live the best moment of their lives in two days, and she was preparing herself for an apocalyptic showdown. Not even Buffy Summers had it so bad, she thought. Or at least there was always a hero waiting in the wings to save the day. It was rare that the hero was ever there to save the damsel in distress. For all Hope knew, maybe the damsel was already dead; they just didn’t know it yet.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was a white envelope on the floor, when Jon walked into the front door of his house. He bent down to retrieve it from the ground and noticed that it had been open by a precise incision made from a letter opener. Before taking out its contents, he read the return address. It was a coroner from New York. His heartbeat increased by tenfold. Finally, he’d know a definite answer to the longing question of whether his brother had been killed on that fateful summer day on Coney Island. His mother must’ve read the results before him, but he didn’t hear signs of her in the house. With shaky hands he pulled out the single sheet of paper. He closed his eyes as he unfolded the paper, not sure if he wanted to see the results that very second. Taking a deep breath, he counted to ten before he opened his eyes and read the opening line of the letter. We’re sorry to inform you that the DNA was incompatible. An involuntary smile formed at the corners of his lips, as a nervous laughter came out. The letter went on but he didn’t even care to read the rest of it.

  “The bones weren’t his!” he found himself exclaiming as though someone were there to hear him. “Incompatible!” He blinked away tears, and staggered towards a chair, suddenly feeling weak. A part of him always hoped that some day he could find Robert again. Maybe he was still out there. To hell what the police had told them that if you don’t find someone within the first twenty-four hours then it’s likely that they’re dead. He had never wanted to believe it, even if he had wished to move on from his past, unlike his father.

  There was slight sound that came from down the hall. Jon got up and walked down the corridor to see what it was. The sound came from his mother’s room. Soon, he managed to make out soft sobs. He knocked on the door. There was a sudden silence, then the sound of a faucet running. Shortly after, his mother opened the door. Her face held no trace of tears, but he could tell by her bloodshot, puffy eyes that she had been crying.

  “You read that letter, didn’t you?”

  “This is never going to end,” she shook her head, her black shoulder-length hair moved.

  “But that means that maybe he’s not dead.”

  “Don’t kid yourself like your father. He’s never coming back to us,” her voice cracked and shoulders slumped forwards like the world had just caved in on her.

  “You can’t say that, mom!”

  “This just means that our ordeal isn’t over,” tears began to form at the corner of her eyes.

  “Maybe…maybe he’s still alive, and wants us to not stop looking for him. Have you ever thought of that?”

  “Jonathan, it’s been six years! Six years that he has been missing! There were no witnesses or anything. It’s like he evaporated into thin air. What’s the possibility that he’s somewhere else? That he’s doing okay?”

  “Why haven’t you ever had hope?”

  “Because it’s painful! Because you don’t know how it feels to have someone that you were supposed to protect get lost! I never should’ve left the two of you alone!”

  “Mom, it’s not your fault. No matter how much you try to protect someone, sometimes the world is just an awful place. Remember when you used to tell us that the world is filled with ugly things? Well, whatever happened to Robert that day had nothing to do with you, or me or dad, or any of us. We loved him. We still love him and we never would’ve wanted to have anything harmful happen to him!”

  His heart was beating rapidly. He was torn, clutching the letter desperately in his hands as though it could give him the courage he had been lacking all these years to believe. Like it meant that there was still hope, maybe everything wasn’t lost.

  “I wish I could believe that, Jonny. But I really can’t. It took me years to get over losing Robert and I can’t allow myself the luxury of having the hope you’re talking about or else I’d go mad!” With that she slammed the door of her bedroom shut in his face. Jon stood there for a few moments stunned by his mother’s reaction. She was never one for dramatics. In fact, he could never recall his parents fighting when he was younger. Not even after Robert’s disappearance. There was only silence between the two. It was that silence that drove them apart. His father couldn’t understand her silent torment, or how easily she could give up on the search. Ultimately, he began resenting her for it. That’s when the demise began. Their love didn’t end with an explosion but with a deadly hush like an atomic bomb that rises to the sky with its menacing mushroom cloud.

  “You know, maybe dad was right!” he shouted, “You only thought about yourself when you ran away from New York!” He banged the door in anger with his fist, and felt a striking pain throb through his hand and up his arm. In his fury, he had forgotten that he shouldn’t have mistreated his hand, especially since he had recently broken it and was still recovering months later. Blinking away tears of frustration, he stormed down the hall, and tore the front door open heading for his car. He needed to get out of this place.

  Jon didn’t know how long he drove for, maybe hours. The city was big and it was easy to wander without a set destination. His Ray Bans hid his tears, whilst the speakers boomed with loud rock music. He wanted the loud guitar riffs and drums to pound out the thoughts he had colliding and exploding in his head in the form of a catastrophic migraine. Finally, he found himself circling Lena’s apartment building. He looked up at where her room should be. The bedroom light was on, but he couldn’t bring himself to talk to her. Even if she was the only one who knew about his brother. Yet, there had been a split in their connection. His jealousy over Michael had begun to taint his feelings for her especially after Milly’s death. Before anyone could notice him driving by one more time, he changed direction and found himself heading towards Sydney’s home. He needed to be with someone who cared about him, and who wouldn’t ask him a billion questions. That’s what he loved about Sydney. She was always so discreet. Never one to pry.

  He didn’t realize that it was close to midnight when he got to her home and called her on her mobile to let her know t
hat he was outside of her gate. Jon didn’t want to wake up Sydney’s mother by ringing the admission bell at the entrance. She quickly responded, and in a matter of seconds she was walking out of the gate.

  “Were you sleeping?” he asked looking at her dressed in what seemed to be sleepwear. A pink satin top that clung to her curves and matching bottoms. The car window was down, and he leaned out of it peering at her silhouette. He couldn’t help but think about how beautiful she looked under the moonlight.

  “No, I was reading when you called but I didn’t feel like getting dressed again.”

  “Fair enough. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”

  “You didn’t disturb me, don’t be silly,” she said approaching him and landed a soft kiss on his lips, before walking over to the other side of the car, and got in.

  “Where you want to go?”

  “Anywhere. The world is ours.”

  He leaned over to kiss her. “You’re so adventurous.”

  “I’d go anywhere with you, just as long as you’re mine.”

  The word ‘mine’ didn’t hang in the air like a pretentious expectation but rather like a warm embrace. That was the difference between Sydney and Amelia. She never expected anything from him, she always kept him free. Not once did she ask him to stop being friends with Lena, nor did she question his whereabouts lately when he spent an extensive amount of time with Hope. She trusted him, and in return it made him want to be a better person. Her affection wasn’t stifling but liberating.

  “Syd, you make it so easy for me to want to stay with you,” he slipped in the keys in the ignition and started the car. The city lights flowed into the car as they drove down the streets of Sunset Boulevard. She didn’t ask him why he had decided to show up at her house so late. They drove in silence for awhile, the only sounds coming from the stereo playing Muse at a low volume.

  “You must be getting tired,” he said noticing her nod off against the passenger window, leaning up against it.

  “A little, but I don’t want to go home.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Then let’s stay here all night.”

  Jon drove out to Mulholland Drive, taking the twists and turns of the street easily, slowly driving in a smooth manner, the darkness making it difficult to see the curves. Once they reached the top, the Hollywood sign was visible from where he parked. Sydney yawned, and tried to keep her eyes open. Turning the car off, Jon turned to her. She looked gorgeous under the sliver of silver coming in from the windows. Her long blonde hair looked almost gold, and he touched the silky mane.

  “Sorry, I’m just so tired,” she tried to excuse her yawning to him, and he shook his head to assure her that she was okay, but then closed the distance between them two and kissed her. Sharing her breath, his hand touched her curves, resting along her waist. Then he broke the kiss so that he could move over to where she was seated, pressing a red button down to push the seat back as he got on top of her. A soft gasp escaped her parted lips when his hand reached down to pull on her pajama bottoms, her hand quickly halting him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Don’t…”

  “Why not? You’re not into it?”

  “It’s not that,” she said sounding agitated, attempting to sit up against him.

  “What is it?”

  “I’m too ashamed,” her voice was quiet.

  She avoided looking into his, but he grabbed her by the chin and questioned her, “You’re ashamed of what?”

  “Ashamed of what you may see….”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Have you ever wondered why I always wear dark stockings?”

  “No? Should I?”

  She was quiet for a moment. Then she pulled down her pajama bottoms revealing her legs. They were a patchwork of black and white. He sucked in his breath feeling suddenly very foolish for thinking that her desire to remain covered was out of a sense of modesty. Jon hadn’t realized that this was the real reason behind her cover up all this time.

  “I’m sorry, Sydney. I didn’t know.”

  “No one knows. It’s not a big deal, I mean…not as bad as having it on my face. If I could conceal my birthmark on my face the way I do with my legs, I would’ve preferred that.”

  “I just thought…” he was at loss with words because he wasn’t sure how he wanted to tell her what he thought. How he thought that maybe she was afraid of intimacy, or how perhaps she didn’t feel ready.

  “I know what you thought and why. But no. It’s not about that at all. I do want to be with you in that way, but I was just afraid of what you’d think if you saw me like this. If you’d feel repulsed.”

  He quickly shook his head no, taking hold of her shoulders, “No, I don’t. I swear, I don’t. Sydney, I like you. All of you. Any way you are.”

  “Do you really mean that? Even now?”

  “Especially now.”

  Before he had a chance to say much else, she crushed her lips against his. He deepened the kiss, lifting her chin up. It was an unusually clear night for this time of year. Typically, the fog hovered over the city like a fuzzy quilt. His temperature began to rise as the kisses continued. Her hands pulled up his shirt over his head, and removed it. There was an irony in all of this, in how Sydney felt self-conscious about her looks when he wasn’t too thrilled to be exposed with all his raging red scars that paraded his arms like angry wounds. But she didn’t seem to notice. She was all beckoning lips and soft limbs. Garments were removed, and her curves looked as perfect as they had felt whenever his hands would map out her body beneath them.

  “I love you,” she whispered in between kisses. Her long hair reached down to partially cover her bare breasts.

  Somehow the way she said it, it didn’t feel like an imposition. The words seemed to soothe some part of him that needed to be touched with a velvet glove. He wished he could say them back, and make it sound sincere and not a faux cover up for his guilt to be incapable of opening up his heart to anyone, and for having it set on someone whom he’d never be able to call his own. Instead, he found himself mumbling in the heated haze, “Teach me how to love.”

  “I will, if you stay with me,” she breathed looking at him with her limpid blue eyes. It was like looking into a tranquil lake where he was certain he could drown all of his worries into and forget about his pain. Maybe he could be whole again. Wasn’t that what he’s always been in search of, ever since he lost the other part of him that dreadful sunny day in Coney Island?

  Jon reached back into his jeans pocket pulling out his wallet quickly rummaging through its contents till he found what he was looking for. The blue tin foil that held what he liked to think of as a little circular godsend. Their hot breaths fogged the car windows, and soon the car rocked with their movements. Sydney’s gasps and soft moans only made him hold unto her tighter. Her wrists bound by his hands against the car seat, and her parted lips rolling sighs that sounded as evocative as streams of poetry filling the metal body of the auto.

  Nothing seemed to matter to him anymore other than that moment. Maybe this was why he found it so easy to comfort himself with girls. It lessened the pain of loneliness. It gave him a sense of belonging even when it wasn’t so. But it was different with Sydney. From the way she curled her fingers in a fist at the point of ecstasy to the way her body responded to his. It was like having two musicians who never met begin to jam and write a greatest hit. There was no farce, no pretension, just the communal need to express an affection that either of them could easily grasp or make sense out of. If Lena was his addiction, then Sydney was the medicating cure to his affliction. Jon was weary, and maybe, just maybe, he was ready to be healed.

  The sun attempted to shine over the thick layer of clouds in the sky, peeking shyly through the dense white. They hadn’t realized they had fallen asleep in each others’ arms, limbs tangled and lips against bared necks until Morpheus abandoned them and dawn’s lightened mantle coaxed them from their sleep. It was a new day. One that mar
ked a change that could easily dismantle previous foundations, or heighten past desires.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The dance studio was empty except for Lena and Bethany still practicing dance steps that they wanted to perfect. Both of the girls were in pale pink leotards, white shrugs, and matching white en pointe shoes. Lena furrowed her forehead in concentration whilst she tried to stay in balance, extending her leg out, and looking at her reflection in the mirror. Bethany was doing the same routine standing next to her. When they both couldn’t take the strain of standing on one leg, they brought the other one down as well.

  “What do you think about the new dance show they selected?” Bethany asked as Lena walked over to the side of the room where she kept her bag with a water bottle, additional en pointe shoes, and some crackers.

  “Sleeping Beauty?” she sat down on the wooden floor.

  “Yeah.”

  “I haven’t seen the dance routine yet, but the story isn’t too bad, I guess.”

  “But it’s no Phantom of the Opera.”

  “I know.”

  “You’ll probably get Aurora.”

  “Nonsense, getting Christine was a lucky break,” Lena told her, she pulled her hair out of the tight bun she had it in and her hair tumbled down her bare back.

  “Really? You were incredible. I have to admit that I was a little jealous,” Bethany sat down next to her, rummaging through her own bag for what seemed to be some tape as she pulled her foot out of the en pointe shoe. Her toenail was split, and she was trying to keep it intact with the binding tape. Lena saw a strange black obtrusion stick out from Bethany’s foot, but before she could question the girl, she had quickly covered it up with a sock.