With that, Aaron was gone. Good riddance… maybe. She wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about Aaron. She knew he could drive her crazier than any man in the history of men — sans Boyd of course — but she also knew if she wanted anyone on her side, it was him. If she ever needed rescuing, it would be Aaron she’d call for help. Well… Aaron and 9-1-1.
“I’m sorry about that.” Ray strolled in, his jaw set in a ridged line. He sat down next to her and fumbled with their Biology worksheet. “You know how Aaron is about drugs. Our mother and all…”
He didn’t have to remind her. Susan, their mother, had ditched them before because of her drug habit. Aaron never talked about it, but Ray did occasionally. It hurt them both and made them swear off anything that would tear up their family. Sloan hoped she wasn’t something that would put a rift between the brothers. She didn’t want to, but judging by the look Ray had given Aaron earlier when he’d offered her the chair, she could see it coming. Why did she have to choose? Why couldn’t things stay exactly how they were?
“I know. I’m not your mother, though. I’m not doing anything that will hurt me.” She hoped not anyway. She still didn’t know what medicine Darcy had given her. It hadn’t killed her, though, which was a plus. Yay for that. But Aaron was right, not that she’d ever tell him. She needed to stop. Just stop it. Now. Before it got out of hand.
Sure, she felt better than she had in a while physically, but not emotionally. She hated lying, and that’s all she’d done for the past fifteen minutes.
“You promise?” Ray asked.
“I promise.” I’ll never take anything besides over-the-counter pain medicine again, she added internally. If she was going to stop, he didn’t need to know.
He smiled a big smile that put her at ease. Good ole Ray. “Good. How about you come back over tomorrow night?”
“Why?”
“Peace offering. Sort of a redo from tonight. I’ll cook. If I remember, I’ve never cooked you spaghetti.”
Sloan grinned. Aaron had told her once that Ray made a mean spaghetti, and she’d yet to taste it. “You are correct.”
“So, come over tomorrow night. Eat. We’ll do homework. Maybe even watch some TV. Forget about all of this mess with the prom and the roses and… whatever. Just have a night to relax. Sound okay?”
“Sounds more than okay. People might talk though. Saint Sloan and Redeemed Ray together without an adult.”
“Aaron.”
“I said an adult,” she kidded.
Ray got very serious. “Would it bother you if people did talk? You know nothing will happen. You know and I know, and most importantly, God knows.”
“Then that’s all that matters. Trust me, Ray. I’ve spent a good part of this year worried about what others thought of me.”
“Darcy.”
“Among others.” Couldn’t really talk bad about the girl now. “But I’ve grown from it. And I know we aren’t doing anything bad. If they want to talk, let them. People do little else.”
Ray grinned. She liked it when he grinned. It made him look carefree. “That they do. Wanna get finished with Biology?”
“Finished? We haven’t even started.”
SLOAN GOT HOME WHEN her mom did. They chatted awhile and she went upstairs to bed. The flowers were still there, still on her nightstand. She knew she hadn’t put them there… right? So how did they get there? Who was sending them to her? And what fall?
It could always be a prank, she told herself. People liked to prank each other during the last few days of school. It was like a tradition. She was ninety percent sure that’s what Detective Morgan would say if she told her.
Then again… she had just been attacked and nearly killed by a psycho who she thought she’d seen standing outside her window earlier…
Sloan took the flowers and dumped them back in the trashcan next to her door, vase and all. They needed to go away, and she needed to sleep.
If she got any more flowers, she’d tell Detective Morgan and her mom. If not, she’d move on with her life. Apparently, moving on meant spaghetti and a movie with the Hunter brothers tomorrow night. Sounded good to her.
Sloan curled under her covers and took a deep, satisfied breath. The pill had definitely kicked in, and she didn’t have a pain or a care in the world. Too bad she’d never take one again.
CHAPTER FOUR
Three Days Before the Fall…
SLOAN HALF EXPECTED THE VASE TO be sitting on her nightstand the next morning.
It wasn’t.
The vase and the roses weren’t in her trashcan either.
It was after six, and her mom had already gone to work. Surely she’d taken the trash out before she left, though it wasn’t really like her. First time for everything, and the only logical explanation.