Lilac

by Reid, B. B.

  Houston and his grandmother had returned.

  Could Houston hear my heart pounding?

  I felt like I was sweating bullets each time he studied me closely. Loren, Rich, and I had rushed to clean up, get dressed, and make our way to the front of the house as if nothing had happened. Laine was too busy starting dinner to notice the tension and our ruffled appearance, but Houston was right on our trail.

  I knew he wouldn’t appreciate me having sex in his grandmother’s house the first time he brought me over. Or ever.

  Yup.

  Never having sex here would have been better.

  I couldn’t even blame anyone but myself since it had been my idea to goad Loren and Rich into having sex.

  Unable to take the heat, I got the hell out of the kitchen and made my way to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face and once again tried fixing my hair. Once I accepted that it wouldn’t get any better, I finally left the bathroom only to run into Houston waiting for me. He was leaning against the wall across the hall with his hands in his pockets.

  “Have fun?”

  I fidgeted on the threshold. “I-I um—”

  He walked toward me, and I stopped speaking immediately. I stared up at him while he towered over me, but I refused to cower even when I was in the wrong.

  “You wait until I’m gone to end the hiatus? Tell me why I shouldn’t be pissed.”

  “Wait…that’s what you’re upset about?”

  “What else would I be upset about?”

  “This is your grandmother’s house, Houston.”

  “You do realize I was raised here, right? I spent my teenage years in this house. You didn’t do anything I haven’t done a million times. Besides, she wasn’t here.” He then glowered at me. “Neither was I.”

  “We didn’t have sex.” I paused. “Well, I didn’t.” I paused again when I remembered that I wasn’t entirely innocent. “It was my idea, though.”

  Houston’s brows rose, but he didn’t comment on what I’d told him. Loren and Rich fucking wasn’t news to him. Houston simply took my hand and then led me down the hall to his bedroom. I immediately looked around even though I saw it briefly during the tour hours ago. Unlike Loren and Rich, Houston had a queen bed situated between two windows. He also had a desk that I tried to picture him sitting at while studying for a test or writing a school paper.

  “Have a seat,” he ordered after closing the door.

  Instead of doing so, I watched him walk over to the dresser and pull open the top drawer. He then looked over his shoulder, and when he saw me still standing, he stared.

  Hearing his silent command, I walked over to the bed and sat on the edge.

  Why had he brought me in here?

  It wasn’t that I minded being alone with him in his childhood bedroom. It was just that I couldn’t help noticing the tension lining his shoulders and back.

  Maybe this was when the other shoe dropped, and he told me he had a wife and kid too. I didn’t know what I’d do then, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.

  Have faith, the angel on my shoulder whispered.

  Unfortunately, the devil who was never far away still felt a little raw and wasn’t in the mood today. Shut. The fuck. Up.

  Houston quickly found what he was looking for and came to join me on the bed. I frowned when I realized what he held and even more when he handed it to me. I hesitated only until I glimpsed the words printed in bold at the top of the newspaper clipping.

  DOUBLE SUICIDE PARALYZES PORTLAND

  March 9, 2004 / The Portland Pioneer

  Married couple Jake Morrow, 32, and Susan Morrow, 31, were pronounced dead yesterday afternoon. The famed duo died from an overdose on antidepressants, which sources report had been prescribed to both victims. It is also rumored but has not been confirmed that the two were found in their home by their thirteen-year-old son, Houston Morrow.

  I stopped reading.

  It took a few deep breaths before I could bring myself to look at him. Houston was staring at the cut-out portion of the newspaper with no expression. I knew better, though. I was inside his head like he was in mine. It seemed he needed to gather his emotions, too, before meeting my gaze.

  “You found them?”

  Slowly, he nodded before looking away like he was ashamed. He was reliving it, and he didn’t want me to see. Standing from the bed, I stood between his legs and brought his eyes back to me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  “Wh—why did they…” I gulped when I couldn’t bring myself to ask why his parents killed themselves. What had been so terrible? They had to know Houston would be the one to find them, but it wasn’t enough to make them stay.

  I didn’t want to hate his parents. I wanted to find solace that at least they were no longer in pain, and yet, looking at Houston, seeing his struggle to forgive them, I couldn’t stop the burning smell plaguing my senses.

  No.

  Houston was the only one who had the right to be angry. Regardless of my feelings for their son, I had no right to judge them. I was only allowed sorrow—for them and Houston.

  “I don’t know,” he answered, guessing at the question I was struggling to ask. “I feel like I never knew them at all. I can’t remember them not smiling. Not even once. They were always laughing and finding reasons to sing and dance. Everyone knew them. Everyone. They were contagious. The wild parties they threw were popular in Portland.” Houston shook his head before resting it against my belly. I ran my fingers through his brown hair. “All along, they were just distracting themselves, making sure they were never alone for long, even with each other. They kept themselves surrounded to keep from giving in to the pain, and I’ll never know what caused it. No one will.”

  Because Jake and Susan were like so many others, both living and dead. They were the kind who never let anyone see that they were sad. Not until it was too late. Not until they were gone.

  “It hasn’t stopped me from trying to figure it out, though,” he admitted after a while. “I wanted to know why so I could understand, but I’ve only been left with fears and assumptions. Had too much happened? Did they lose control and let the bad outweigh the good? They were so young when they had me. Maybe I was the reason their life didn’t turn out how they hoped. Maybe I pushed them to do it.”

  I quickly climbed into his lap so that we were eye level and held his face in my hands so that he couldn’t look away. “Houston, no. Your parents chose to leave you with memories of them happy because those were the ones they wanted you to have. They loved you. I wish that it had been enough, but you were the reason they held on as long as they could. I know it like I know the last thing they want is for you to blame yourself.”

  I was sucked in by the vortex his gaze created. His eyes were so green, and I wondered if it was because he stored all of his emotions there, hiding them in plain sight. I’ve called him an overbearing brute and controlling asshole, and I was almost sorry for it now that I knew the reason. He didn’t want to end up like his parents. He didn’t want the people he cared about to either. Now Houston would have to figure out a way to overcome that fear, and I was more than ready to help him. I knew Loren and Rich were too.

  “You don’t have to forgive them today,” I told him when he seemed to struggle with words, “or even tomorrow. But one day, when you’re ready, I think your parents would like that. I think you would like it too.”

  Houston mulled it over for a moment before simply nodding. He was quiet when he fell back on the mattress and took me with him. He held me on his chest and in his arms while I listened to his complicated heart beat. We didn’t speak a word for the rest of the night, and we didn’t leave his room. Eventually, we fell asleep together, missing the dinner his grandmother had no doubt slaved over. Laine, Loren, and Rich must have known because no one had the heart to knock on the door.

  Houston was twenty-nine today.

  For that reason alone, I was awake before dawn. I was planning to bake
his favorite cake with Laine’s help, and I wanted it to be ready and back before he was up.

  Birthday cake for breakfast sounded like a good way to start any Sunday.

  We’d only been back in Portland for a few days, and it was eerie how quickly I’d adjusted to their surroundings. I wouldn’t dare say that out loud, though, and risk the conversation of me moving in returning.

  They’d forgotten it for now, but I knew better than to think it wouldn’t come up again. We’d only been together six months and already had one break up under our belt.

  I think my point had been made that it was too soon.

  They wouldn’t care, though, so yeah…I was bracing myself for that argument again.

  After kissing Houston’s lips gently, I carefully untangled myself from his arms.

  He didn’t stir.

  Last night, I had an ulterior motive when I broke my ban on sex. I knew they’d take all of their frustrations out on me. I knew they’d wear themselves out in the process. Even I had to fight my sore muscles and the fatigue begging me for a few hours more when I crawled out of bed. I was pressed for time, but when I stood, I couldn’t help but lean against one of the bedposts to watch them sleep.

  My bad boy.

  My vain princess.

  My sad emo.

  The three of them slept soundly. Loren had his face buried in Jericho’s neck as he spooned him from behind with a strong arm curled around his naked waist. It wasn’t how they’d gone to sleep, so the two of them must have found each other at some point.

  I smiled.

  Loren claimed he wasn’t one to cuddle.

  Jericho and I had both proven him wrong.

  After looking my fill at the three of them in all their naked glory, I turned to shower and dress as quietly as I could. I then tiptoed downstairs, lifted Houston’s car keys from the foyer’s entry table, and made my way to the detached garage.

  As I was climbing inside his G-Wagon, I admired Jericho’s green and black bike. Maybe I’d convince him to teach me one day. I also put it on my mental checklist to ask why Loren didn’t have a car and why Houston and Rich never let him drive. To be fair, he never offered, and they seemed to be fine with that.

  I plugged his grandmother’s address into my phone’s GPS since I didn’t know my way around yet before pulling out. The device attached to the visor opened both the garage doors and the front gate, so I was on the road just a few minutes later, and nearly an hour later, I’d arrived.

  The street was quiet, and the sun wasn’t fully up yet when I climbed out of the SUV with my phone unlocked and in my hand.

  Hoping Laine hadn’t forgotten that I was coming this early, I was debating whether to call or simply knock on her door when I heard my name softly spoken.

  Apprehension rippled through me before I could even turn to face the person who’d posed my name like a question. I didn’t recognize the petite girl now standing in the driveway.

  Where had she come from?

  Even in the semi-dark, I could see that she was a few years older even though she looked young. And her hair wasn’t just platinum. It was stark white, a color that could only be accomplished with dye. She had pale skin and piercings in her nose and lips, but what gave me pause wasn’t that I didn’t know her.

  It was yesterday’s eyeliner.

  I knew because even though she’d applied it with a heavy hand, it had smudged and was starting to fade.

  I couldn’t help my frown or care how it would be perceived.

  Had she been here all night?

  The dark hood she wore over her head didn’t conceal the evil intent in her eyes even as she smiled up at me with her hands behind her back.

  “You’re Braxton Fawn, right?”

  Only then did I realize I’d never responded.

  “Who wants to know?”

  She brought her thin arms around, showing me the bat she carried. I backed up a step, but it was too late.

  “Emily,” she cheerily supplied. She barely finished speaking her name before she brought the bat up and swung.

  The first thing I lost was my feet when the bat connected with my head. I hit the ground with a cry, and that was the last thing I heard when my hearing went next.

  I could feel the first crack in my skull and my blood running down my forehead, though. She hit me again and my cheek connected with the concrete with a hard smack. I didn’t question how I could turn my head and see that her lips were still spread.

  Emily’s smile never wavered.

  It was also the last thing I saw when she took my vision with her third swing. The bat connected and I finally, mercifully, lost consciousness too.

  It sounded like fireworks or a car backfiring.

  I almost went back to sleep with an annoyed exhale until I remembered we lived too deep in the woods. Whatever made that sound had been too loud and too close.

  “What was that?” Houston asked. He’d woken up too.

  “I don’t know,” I answered with a tired shake of my head. My eyes were still closed.

  “Then how about you both go back to sleep before you wake Braxton?” Loren grumbled in my neck as he hugged me tighter from behind. I could feel his morning wood, but sex was the last thing on my mind.

  If Loren was awake, that means he’d heard it too.

  Houston and I weren’t imagining things.

  My eyes drifted open for the first time to see if Braxton was awake and wondering the same thing.

  The spot where she’d slept between Houston and me was empty.

  “She’s not here,” I said more to myself than to them as my heart began to race.

  Having noticed, too, Houston was already up, grabbing his phone, and heading for the door. “Get the fuck up,” he barked at us both.

  I threw Loren’s arm from around my waist, got up, and snatched a pair of pants—I didn’t care whose—from the floor as I went. Loren was right behind me, though he’d settled for the sheet wrapped around his waist.

  Houston was already coming out of the bathroom when we stepped into the hall. For the first time, I cursed the size of this house. There was no sound now to tell us where to look next, and there were too many options to choose from.

  “Braxton!” I shouted when I couldn’t think clearly enough to figure out where she would go. Our exhaustion had made it too hard to sense before, but now we were all too painfully aware.

  Something was wrong.

  Why was Braxton even up this early?

  As soon as my mind formed the question, I remembered.

  Today was Houston’s birthday.

  She’d wanted to bake a cake.

  My limbs were getting heavier, too heavy, as we raced down the stairs. I was nothing more than a block of ice by the time we reached the ground floor. Or maybe I was trapped inside of one.

  Maybe she hadn’t left yet.

  We rushed into the kitchen to check there first and came to a dead halt. The last person we expected to see was sitting on the island, swinging her short legs while she waited.

  “Baby!” she squealed when our eyes connected.

  I closed mine a second later.

  How the hell was she here?

  We didn’t buy this place until long after she’d disappeared. Emily wouldn’t know where to find us, much less how to get inside the gates. She’d need the code or the device, which she had neither.

  “What the fuck kind of fatal attraction, soap opera, Days of our Lives bullshit are you on?” Loren snapped. “I don’t even want to know how you found us or why you’re here. Just get the hell out.”

  My eyes opened when I heard what sounded like Emily’s feet hitting the ground. She was thinner than I remembered, and where there had once been mischief in her eyes, there was now only malice.

  “You chased me for years,” she pointed out while ignoring Loren. “Now that I’m here, you want me to go? Sorry, I don’t think so.”

  “Where’s his kid?” Houston asked her. “Since you’re well aware
that’s who he was looking for.”

  Emily glowered at him before turning to me. “You’re still letting them speak for you, I see.”

  “What do you want?” I demanded, speaking up for the first time. I still hadn’t recovered from seeing Emily and finding her in our house.

  Where the hell was Braxton?

  “I want to give us another chance,” she answered as she kept coming closer, “and I know you do too. I know you still love me.”

  Loren snorted.

  “It’s too late for that, Em. I—we—we’re divorced.”

  “Why do you think she’s here?” Loren mused out loud. “She knows that already.” The asshole couldn’t mind his business for two goddamn minutes.

  “Yeah, but so what?” Emily challenged. “He still loves me.”

  To fuck with Loren, she reached up and wrapped her thin arms around my neck. I saw my best friend stiffen out of the corner of my eye. I knew if I didn’t push her away soon, he’d fling her ass across the room.

  It wouldn’t just be for Braxton, though.

  It’d be for him too.

  Loren was jealous of Emily then, despite his claims, and he was still jealous of her now.

  I removed her arms from around my neck and took a step back. “Leave,” I told her. “And don’t come back unless it’s with my kid.”

  “If there even is a kid,” Loren couldn’t help adding.

  I gave him a look to shut the fuck up already. I could handle Emily all on my own. Loren made sure to sigh as loud as he could before closing his goddamn mouth. Finally.

  “Can we talk in private?” Emily requested.

  “It’s been five years. You had the chance to talk and work things out, but you chose to run away. I’m not interested in what you have to say anymore. Not unless it’s about my kid.” I searched her eyes. “Where is he?” Or her. I didn’t care as long as I got to be in their life. I didn’t want to miss another day.

  “Jericho,” she said while letting the tear she’d drummed up teeter on her lower lash before rolling down her cheek. I was immune to them now, but she didn’t know that, so I let her play her little mind games. “It was very hard when I left. I was scared of what you might do if the baby wasn’t yours. I didn’t want to lose you, so I…”