by Nia Arthurs
I wanted to sit next to Ember’s bed all night, but I didn’t dare push it. Given Bee’s first words to me when I showed up tonight were ‘you better not hurt her or I’ll kill you’, I get the sense that Ember’s aunt is barely tolerating me.
My foot lands on a loose floorboard. It lets out a troubling ‘creak’. I freeze, glancing up the stairs to check for a light flashing on or a figure peering over the banister. The silence crowds me, stifling in it’s intensity.
But there’s no movement and a few moments later, Dad’s snore rumbles through the house again.
I’m safe.
I allow myself to chuckle. It’s like I’m sixteen again and sneaking into the house after running out to meet with Gina.
Except Ember is nothing like my high school girlfriend. While I was after only one thing with Gina, I want it all with Ember.
I’ve never felt this way about anyone in my life. I meant what I said to her tonight. I could spend the rest of my days making her smile. Pulling back on my declarations has been a challenge but when she asked me why I was by her side tonight, I couldn’t help myself.
Ember seemed shocked when she saw me. Acted like she’d never been waited on before. Maybe she hasn’t. There’s a lot I could learn from Ember. A lot I want to do for her.
But exactly how do I accomplish that from halfway across the country?
The living room light snaps on.
“You’re back late,” a voice blares.
I hold my hand up to shield me from the sudden glow. My eyes dart around, struggling to adjust. Finally, they land on a boy with dark skin, rigid shoulders and a clenched jaw.
I jump back when my gaze collides with Kolby’s. My heart thunders in my chest. “Bro, you scared me.”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“No.” I toss my keys on the stand and walk deeper into the room. “Were you waiting up?”
He doesn’t crack a smile. There’s a new level of intensity to his stare that gives me pause. Kolby’s never been this serious with me.
He folds his arms over his chest. “Were you with Ember?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Were you?”
“Why does it matter?”
“You were.” Kolby stomps toward me. “Did you sleep with her?”
Annoyed now, I snap at him. “That’s enough.”
“Tell me!”
“No.” I scoff at him. “You’re acting weird, man. What’s up?”
Kolby grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me in, his teeth gritted and his eyes blazing. “If you mess around with Ember just to abandon her the way you did us, I’m not going to sit by and watch.”
“Get… off.” I throw his hands down. My shirt is wrinkled from where he twisted his fingers in the material. Emotions swirl in my chest. I’m too shocked to get angry. “What’s the matter with you?”
“You know I like her.”
“Kolby, she’s almost ten years older than you.”
“Age is just a number.”
I study his face. His cheeks are bunched, rigid, but his eyes flicker with doubt. “You don’t really believe that.”
“You don’t know what I believe.”
“You’re a smart guy.” I step toward him. “And you’ve barely even talked to Ember. I’m not saying you can’t like her, but she won’t look at you that way.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if she ever sees me as a man. I may always be the little boy in the park to her, but she’s more than that to me. She’s… the reason I paint. The reason I draw. The reason I worked so damn hard to get the eyes right—”
“Kolby…”
His eyes flash to mine, searing, heated. “I’m saying Ember’s more than just some woman you can use and throw away.”
“Use and—? What kind of guy do you think I am?”
“You tell me!”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Who’s Diandre?”
His words are worse than a bucket of ice to the face. I stiffen. “How do you know that name?”
“I overheard you and Seb talking in the kitchen the other day.”
I surge forward and grab his shoulders. “What did you hear?”
“Not much.” His bravado slips for the first time since he confronted me. Dark eyes search mine. His voice trembles. “Just that there was an accident and you were involved.”
I bowl over, still holding onto Diandre. “Go to bed.”
“What?”
I release him and straighten my shoulders. “Go to bed and forget about that name.”
“You can’t tell me what to do.”
“Kolby!” I clamp my lips shut, shaking as I scramble to hold the reins on the volume of my voice, “Just listen to me. Okay? We can talk about Ember later.”
“Fine.” He shoots one last glare but tramps away. His door slams a few moments later.
I sink into the couch and rub the side of my face with a hand. Kolby can’t know about Diandre. How could I have let this happen? I should have been more careful that day. It was foolish to discuss our darkest secret in an open kitchen.
A groan rattles my chest. And I just made it worse. When Kolby confronted me tonight, I should have played it cool instead of going off the deep-end.
But how was I supposed to know my little brother had overheard us?
It doesn’t matter. All that matters now is damage control. If Kolby starts asking questions… there could be problems. Seb has no remorse for what he did and, now that he’s engaged to Maribella, he’ll do anything to keep her.
Diandre is already dead. One more body won’t do much to keep Seb up at night.
I clamp a hand over my mouth. Sweat pops on my forehead. I need a solution. Soon. One that will keep everyone alive and leave that secret six foot deep where it belongs.
“Come on, Axle,” I mumble. “Think… think.”
An idea pops into my head.
Mr. McKinley. Corey’s dad. Last I heard, he was promoted to sheriff. I can talk to him. Investigate Diandre myself. When Seb finds out I’m asking questions, he’ll confront me instead of my brother. At the same time, I’ll make sure that Kolby can’t find anything incriminating even if he snoops.
The next morning, I wake up early and head to the precinct. I barely slept last night so I was ready to leave at dawn, but I figured it would seem too suspicious if I arrived that early just to ask about a suicide case from ten years ago.
My fingers tightly grip the steering wheel as I drive toward the station. The town has already begun to stir and most of the shops are just opening, their shutters peppering the air with metallic moans.
I’m halfway to the station when my phone rings. It’s Ember.
The tightness in my chest loosens a bit.
I pick up. “Good morning. How are you feeling?”
“Better.” She pauses. Her voice is slightly husky and I immediately picture her with hair mussed and eyes half-open. “Were you really here last night or was I dreaming?”
Those words, in that raspy tone, send a streak of desire through me. “You can’t say things like that so early in the morning, Ember. I’ll crash my car.”
“Sorry.” She laughs in a tone that says she’s anything but. “What are you doing this afternoon. Aunt B was called in for an emergency meeting out of town and I’m all alone.”
“What do you have in mind?”
I imagine that Ember’s ducking her head in embarrassment. “Watch a movie, maybe? Order some takeout? What are you thinking?”
None of the above. I shake the thought. “Whatever you want.”
“Okay. See you then.”
We hang up and I slip the phone back into my pocket. The police station rises in front of me. The knots in my stomach return in full force. I park in the lot and stride inside, searching the busy precinct for a familiar face.
The receptionist quirks a thick eyebrow. “Can I help you?”
I sidle toward the desk. “I�
�m looking for—”
“Axle! Axle, is that you?”
I turn toward the door where a stocky man with pale skin and green eyes grins widely at me. His fiery red hair strikes a memory. I step forward. “Corey!”
He strides forward. “It’s been a while.”
“You look great.” I survey his khaki shirt and rough jeans. “Did you come back from a trip?”
“I’m just passing through. My ma is in the hospital. Cancer.”
I frown. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah. You know how it is.” He shakes his head. “What are you doing at the station?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I came to talk to your father.”
“He’s with my mom at the hospital. I just stopped by to pick something up for him.” Corey surveys me with his deep green eyes. “Is it an emergency? If not there are a lot of capable officers here to help.”
“It’s about that case ten years ago,” I whisper.
“What? Why? Did something happen?”
Aware of all the listening eyes and ears, I gesture to the door. “Could we talk somewhere a little more… private?”
“Yeah, sure.” He leads me to the café next door and takes a seat near the window. “Don’t worry. Cops have been dining here for years. The owners are very discreet.” Corey nods to the waitress who trots to our table and pours us coffee.
She looks around my mother’s age, but that doesn’t stop her from eyeing me like a piece of meat and bending over a little more to reveal her spilling cleavage. I ignore her until she walks away.
Corey clasps his pale hands together and frowns so hard the red whiskers around his mouth shake. “Tell me.”
“Seb stopped by my house a few days ago. Did you know he was engaged to Maribella?”
“Yeah.” Corey makes a face. “I was pissed when I heard about that, but the guy is love-struck. He’s been chasing Maribella for years and she finally gave in to him. There’s no way he’ll listen to reason now.”
I’m glad I’m not the only one who finds Seb’s choice unnerving. “Well, I tried to talk to him but it didn’t go over well. And last night I found out… Kolby overheard us.”
“What?”
“He asked me who Diandre was and what we were involved in. I tried to brush it off, but I didn’t do a very good job. I’m afraid he’ll start digging and stumble on something that points to us.”
“Ax, if Sebastian thinks Kolby’s a threat to him…”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to your father. See if there was anything about the case that would look suspicious if Kolby started snooping.”
“No way.” Corey leans closer, his voice low. “After that night, I got super paranoid. I was waiting for someone to find out the truth so I regularly stole my dad’s case files just to make sure there wasn’t any new evidence.”
“And?”
“Diandre’s death is a suicide. Case closed. As long as no one raises a fuss, it’ll stay that way.”
I blow out a breath. “Good.”
“Axle?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t let Seb find out that Kolby knows.”
I jerk my chin down. I’m determined to do whatever I have to so that the people I love are safe.
14
Ember
My fingers brush over Aunt B’s perfume collection. The glass is smooth beneath my touch. I scoop one up and spritz it on my wrists, gently rubbing my hands together as the smell fills the room. Should I spray behind my ear too? I do, just in case.
Axle should be here any minute.
I finish primping my hair in the mirror, admiring the curls that I painstakingly finger-twisted this morning. They’re almost dry. The coils frame my cheeks and settle over my shoulders.
I decided on an off-the-shoulder blouse and shorts. The mascara and gloss that I threw on give my face an extra glow. I look alright, if I do say so myself.
When Aunt B left in a rush this morning, she told me where her condoms were and then gave me a cheeky smile. I found that embarrassing. And a bit ironic given she was the one who warned me not to jump into bed with Axle.
The truth is, I’ve never jumped into bed with anyone. Beyond the fact that my mother was intensely overprotective, I haven’t felt comfortable enough to share myself that way. Until now.
It might be rushing things, but I don’t care. I want to show Axle how much I care for him and if he wants it, I’m not going to stop him from taking things to that level.
It’s oddly fitting. The first man I fell in love with will be the first to make love to me.
I’m almost giddy with excitement when I hear the knock on the door, but it’s just the delivery guy. I try to hide my disappointment, but I’m sure the teen picks up on it when he hands me the fried chicken and takes his money.
I slam the door and settle the food on the kitchen table. The scent of fried batter fills the room. My stomach growls, but I refuse to eat. My cell phone is in the living room. I pad to the arm of the couch and scoop it up, checking the time.
It’s ten minutes after one.
Axle should be here by now. Maybe he got caught up with something?
I set the phone down and grab the wine bottle from its perch in the middle of the table. I pour myself a glass and settle down in front of the television. Not that I’m actually watching it.
An hour passes.
Two.
I check my phone again. No call from Axle.
My insecurities crop up. Clawing insidious fingers into my head. What if Axle isn’t interested in a long-term relationship? What if he’s standing me up because he doesn’t know how to let me down nicely? Or what if he’s with some other woman?
I squelch the thoughts as they spring up.
Axle showed me how he felt last night. Would a man put so much effort into being there for me while I was sick if he didn’t truly care?
My mother’s voice rasps in my ear, “All men are dogs. You can’t trust them. They just chase a woman until they have what they want and then they leave.”
I tip my wine glass back and realize it’s empty. Mechanically, I head to the kitchen for a refill. I’m stunned when I realize I’m already quarter way through the bottle.
After I pour myself another glass, my phone rings. I drop the wine glass on the table, freezing as it teeters. My gaze darts between the glass and the phone until I abandon the cup and head into the living room for my phone.
If the wine spills, I can clean it up later.
I grab the cell and answer, calming my voice so I sound elegant and unconcerned. “Hello?”
“Ember, I’m so sorry. I got caught up with an old friend and didn’t realize the time.” The sound of rushing wind and honking fills the background. “I’m on my way, okay? I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“It’s fine. I was busy doing school stuff anyway.” That’s a lie, but I would rather not look like the pathetic woman waiting for a man to show up.
“I’ll be there soon. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. See you.” I hang up and then cover my mouth as uncontrollable giggles escape. I can’t believe he bought that. I’m such a terrible actor. I throw myself back into the couch and kick at the air as laughter rolls over my body.
Five minutes pass until I get myself together, but by the time Axle knocks on my door, I’m suitably composed.
I open up and fall into his beautiful grey eyes. A soft blue shirt, rolled at the cuffs, and jeans complete his outfit. Brown hair tumbles over his forehead. Sweat glitters above his upper lip and his chest heaves.
“I’m sorry I’m late.”
“Did you run here?”
“Yeah.” One corner of his lips tilts up in a sheepish smile. “Did you eat?”
“No, I waited for you.”
His face crumples and I wonder if I gave the wrong answer.
“I’m an idiot. I should have cut my friend off and came straight here.”
“Axle, relax. I didn’
t keel over and faint, okay?” I laugh at the thought of myself falling over from hunger. “Plus, I could have called you, but I didn’t.”
“Right.” He gives me a funny look.
I step back and sweep my hands toward the table, ignoring his expression. “I ordered chicken. It’s probably cold by now. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not.” He walks in beside me. The scent of him draws me to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I want him to hold me now, but Axle is far too apologetic and distressed for romance. It’s not the right time.
As we settle around the table, I offer him a fork and ask, “Who were you meeting?”
“Just… an old friend.” He avoids my gaze.
Mom’s voice is back. “See. He’s lying to you already. Axle’s leaving the day after tomorrow. He’s distancing himself.”
“It must have been important if you forgot our date,” I say drily.
He flinches. “You’re mad.”
“I’m not mad.” I grab my abandoned wine and drain the glass.
Axle watches with a frown. “Ember?”
“I’m fine.” I offer a bright smile. “Really. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Okay…”
I spear a piece of chicken and deposit it into my plate. He follows suit and munches quietly, his gaze unwavering. Axle swallows and clears his throat. “Has your mom settled in alright?”
“I have no idea.”
He blinks, clearly taken aback by my answer. “Didn’t you move her here so she could get better?”
“I moved my mother here so she could be someone else’s problem.”
“Ember, I’m sure you don’t mean that.”
“Yes, I do.”
He frowns. “That’s not like you.”
“Oh? How do you know what I’m like? We haven’t known each other that long.”
He blinks, shifting uneasily. “That may be true but—”
“You think I’m being cold? That I’m mean.” I laugh and pour another glass. “This is who I am, Axle. You have no idea what I’ve been through.”
Axle slants my wine glass a disapproving look but doesn’t try to stop me from drinking. “I won’t know if you don’t tell me.”