God, I’m the biggest asshole ever. I really am.
“The police want to talk to me.” The words are difficult to say.
Her gaze glides to mine and her grip tightens on the wheel. “When do they want to talk to you? Tonight?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so, but Lila didn’t say.”
“Are you… Are you going to be okay? I mean, with talking to them.”
“I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I guess it depends on what they want to talk about. She said something about my brother, but I’m not sure if it’s details about his death or my”—I swallow hard—“memories.”
I think I already know for sure, though. Lila warned me the morning after we learned the news of my brother’s death that the police may want my help in solving his murder by remembering what happened those weeks we spent with our captors. They believe if I can remember than maybe I can help identify them.
If that’s what they want me to do… Well, I’m not sure I can handle it. I locked up the memories for a reason.
Dying flesh.
Ruptured heart.
Scars searing.
Flaming soul.
The touch of death
burns through my skin
and strikes at my bones.
Resuscitated and revived,
but not without sacrifice.
Close up my mind.
Forget what I saw.
What I heard.
What was done to me.
Remember and give up my soul.
Remember and submit to the pain.
Remember and wither away
into nothing.
Chapter 3
Lyric
It’s been two days since I saw the strange man hanging out in front of Ayden’s house, and I’ve been working on a drawing of the guy just in case it’s needed. I don’t know why, but I have the strangest feeling that the man was more than a just a neighbor passing by.
I’ve been having trouble sleeping the last couple of nights because of the man. Every time I close my eyes, I see him in the tracksuit with his dog. The twisted part is that his outfit sometimes transforms into a cloak and the dog shifts into a scythe, and I’m suddenly staring at the Grim Reaper.
No more horror movies for me for a while.
I debate whether or not to tell Ayden about my dream. In the past, he’d have found it amusing, but with everything going on, I doubt he would anymore. He still hasn’t spoken to the police, nor does he know when he’s going to, only that it’ll be someday this week.
My family and all the Gregorys get together every year to decorate the tree. After we’re done, we’ll all go over to my house and do the same thing. It’s a strange little tradition that started during my first Christmas ever. Back then, though, Uncle Ethan and Aunt Lila hadn’t adopted any children yet.
The massive tree Ayden and I picked out sits in the center of the Gregory’s living room, trimmed and decorated with shiny silver and red balls that glimmer against the glow of the flames burning in the fireplace. Our parents are drinking eggnog in the kitchen and have already exceeded the tipsy point. Kale is eating popcorn and watching a Christmas movie while Fiona and Everson fight over who gets to put the star on the tree. Ayden and I sit in front of the computer doing a little research on his brother, ignoring the commotion going on.
He’d been so reluctant to even speak his brother’s name that I was honestly surprised when he brought out the computer and said he wanted to look up stuff on him. But I wasn’t about to ask him, too concerned I’d hit a nerve.
“I still don’t get why we’re looking this stuff up.” I skim read the paragraph on the computer screen. “Everything we’ve found out about your brother’s case online is the same stuff the police have told you, right?”
“Yeah, but it seems like there’s something else,” Ayden mumbles, clicking the mouse on the Page Back arrow. “Like why would he even go so close to the house in the first place. It doesn’t make any sense. Either he had to be kidnapped or his body was placed there for a reason.” His voice cracks and he quickly clears it.
“Maybe he was just there revisiting his past… Did he have amnesia like you?” I rest my chin on his shoulder then immediately regret it when his muscles constrict.
“Not that I know of.” Ayden taps a few keys. “But I didn’t really see him after we were taken out of the house. We went straight to the hospital and placed in the system not too long after.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, unsure why I feel the urge to apologize over something that has nothing to do with me.
“Sorry for what… it wasn’t you’re fault.” He twists around, causing my chin to fall off his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be apologizing for anything.” He sketches a finger across my cheekbone.
An evanescent contact of skin to skin, but my body still flushes with heat. I lick my lips—I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m about to kiss him in the living room in front of everyone.
His breath hitches in his throat. “Maybe we should—”
“Hey, it’s my turn to put the star on the tree!” Fiona shouts, causing Ayden and I to blink. She plants her hands on her hips and glares at Everson. “You did it last year.”
“Liar. You did it last year.” Everson is holding the silvery star and reaches his arm up high. Fiona, being on the short side, jumps to get it, but misses by at least a foot.
“Everson! Give me that star.” Fiona moves to tackle Everson and he dodges out of the way, laughing.
“Everson, you did put the star up last year,” Ayden intervenes without looking away from me. “Give the star to Fiona.”
Everson curses under his breath, shoves the star at Fiona, and stomps toward the doorway. “Whatever. She’s too short anyway. She’ll never get it up there.”
“I will, too!” Fiona shouts after him, glancing from the star to the tip of the tree.
Ayden sighs, sets the computer down on the coffee table, and gets up from the sofa. “I’ll go get you a stool,” he tells Fiona. “Hang on.”
After he leaves the room, Fiona reels around and faces me with a haughty bob of her head. “So, what are you guys doing on the computer anyway? Just seeing what was up with Ayden’s brother.”
“Sort of.”
“Well, you’re not going to find anything on the computer,” she says, chipping at a chunk of glitter on the base of the star. “Ayden’s just going to have to remember.”