Thirty minutes after that, we pulled into our street on Dangerfield Drive and cruised past the line of houses all with their lights still on, until we reached our own.
Our joyous reverie was shattered when we heard his voice.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Mason, Lucas’s older brother, barked as he emerged from the shadows of the old oak tree next to the drive. While the boys were only ten months apart, Mason liked to think he was boss.
We both came to a stop, our brakes squeaking and in need of oil.
“We fell asleep,” I said, my eyes narrowing trying to make out his face in the darkness.
He stepped forward fully exposing himself to the buzzing street lamp. His jaw was set hard, his nostrils flaring. “I’m not talking to you,” he snapped, turning his fiery gaze from me to Lucas.
“Don’t speak to her like that,” Lucas came to my defense while dismounting his bike.
The brothers shared similar traits and were almost matched in height. The only difference was Mason bore a grudge against almost everything, and most of the time it was unwarranted. He had a chip on his shoulder that seemed to be worsening over recent months. He was intimidating and was ambivalent to the hurt he caused his parents. Lucas, however, was the son loved by all. He had strengths Mason lacked and while younger, seemed far more mature when dealing with his troubles. He was the savior, always coming to Mason’s rescue and defending the reckless actions of his brother.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, taking a step forward, half blocking me from Mason’s wrath.
This question caused a violent twitch in Mason’s neck. “Dad’s left.”
The two words hung loosely in the brisk night air. There was a gut-wrenching pause as their meaning sunk in.
“Did you hear me?”
“Yes! I heard you. Where did he go?”
“I don’t fucking know,” he spat, angrily. There was no denying the hurt in his voice. “He’s taken all his shit.”
“Where’s Mom?” Despite the pain he too must have felt, Lucas spoke evenly.
“Locked herself inside the bathroom.”
Using his foot, Lucas lowered the bike stand and turned to me.
“I’ll talk to you later, Gem.” The joy I had seen in his eyes that afternoon had turned to a sadness that shattered my heart.
“I’m sorry, Luc,” I whispered, a lump restricting my throat.
He gave a weak smile and pulled me into a hug where I rested my cheek against his beating and now broken heart.
“Today of all days,” he murmured sadly against my ear. “Happy Birthday, Gem.”
I blinked away the tears. “Happy Birthday, Luc.”
~
“Lord, you know how to cut it fine,” my mother’s irritated voice rang from the dining room. I’d walked through my front door lost in a trance that both numbed and terrified me. “Honestly, if you had been a minute later I would have called Sheriff…” she paused, eyes searching my face. “Gemma, what on earth is wrong?”
I turned to my mother who absently placed the last knife on the table before stepping toward me.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” The words fell out in a jumbled mess.
“Gem, you left with Lucas so happy. What’s happened? What’s changed?”
“Mr. Carter moved out.”
One hand rested on the chair back, the other sitting on her hip. “What do you mean he moved out?”
“Mason just told us he’s packed and left.”
“He left the boys… on Lucas’s birthday?”
My heart ached some more. “Yes.”
My mother inhaled sharply seemingly at a loss for words. “Well… that’s—”
“I’m going to clean up,” I murmured, backing away before she could reach out to me. Taking the stairs two at a time, I reached my room and closed the door behind me.
Leaving the light off, I headed straight for the window. It was positioned directly adjacent to Lucas’s. A long piece of looped twine connected between in the form of a pulley system. While we were close enough to talk, we opted for the secrecy of hand-written messages pegged to the twine. A tiny cat bell dangling from the bottom, tinkling every time a new message was received.
In Lucas’s darkened bedroom, the drawn sheer curtains danced hauntingly in the breeze limiting visibility. A soft glow emanating from the hall light, however, silhouetted a motionless figure. Scrawling a note, I folded the paper and pegged it before sending it on its way. The bell tinkled with each pull of the twine until it completed its journey to the other side. I watched a hand emerge from the darkness and retrieve the message. After a few moments, another was sent in return. Squeezing the peg together, I pulled the note free and read the five seemingly harmless words in reply. Five words that caused my heart to pound.
Me: I’m sorry about your dad. Want to stay at my place tonight?
Lucas: I thought you’d never ask.
This was not a typical response. Not from Lucas. I knew him better than anyone, and those words simply weren’t how he’d reply. Squinting through the darkness, I watched the figure push the curtain aside and step into view.
His smirk said it all.
Ridicule
Taunting.
He held my gaze.
I was frozen in place with a thudding heart.
Mason Carter’s behavior was always unpredictable. One moment he protected me like he was an older brother. I’d feel safe. He’d even go so far as reading the riot act to anyone who tried to mess with me. But then, more recently as I had started to develop a womanly figure, Mason no longer saw me as the little sister. Instead, I was more like a tasty meal he wanted to both savor and devour, but then spit me out like poison. He was deliberately intimidating and thrived on my discomfort.
I no longer felt safe.
Stepping away from the window, my heel caught my schoolbag loaded with calculus books. It didn’t budge. Earlier, I had carelessly thrown it on the floor, and now as I fell, I cursed my laziness and Mason Carter. I landed heavily, my head banging on the wooden bed leg. Pain shot through my skull, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
My fifteenth birthday could be marked as the beginning.
The beginning of a volatile year.
The beginning of an unstable and unpredictable relationship between Mason Carter and myself that would continue to fester for many years to come.
Chapter 4
NOW
Charlie: You need to get your ass here, like yesterday!
What was the urgency?
Slipping the cell into my handbag, I picked up pace crossing the underground carpark down the road from the gallery. The weather had turned putrid. Its once beautiful blue sky, had morphed into a witch’s cauldron of murkiness. The rain fell consistently throughout the morning, the staircase leading out onto the sidewalk turning into a miniature waterfall.
“Shit!” I cursed, left with little choice but to get wet.
Taking the steps two at a time and managing to avoid the worst of the gushing water, I exited at street level. The rain fell like heavy bullets pelting me from all directions, rebounding off the pavement and smashing against the umbrella. By the time I pushed the door open to the gallery foyer, I was soaked through to my underwear.
“Bloody hell!” Carleen rose from her desk, her usual headset in place. “We’ve been trying to reach you…” She paused a moment too long. “You look like shit.”
I felt like it too.
One look at Carleen however, and I could see she was out of sorts flustered.
“I want fucking answers!” A booming voice raged from upstairs startling us both. Carleen cringed, her nerves on edge.
“Is that Maximus Kline?” I asked, slightly confused while wiping sodden hair away from my cheeks.
“Yes, that’s him. In all his furious glory.”
“Furious glory? What are you talking about?”
Carleen hurried after me as I took to the stairs leaving behind a trail of water.