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His bedroom door—which was under the stairs—swung open, and he wheeled out. “Breaking and entering now?”
“Only entering. The beast working on my deck told me I could come in.” A stretch of the truth, but who was keeping tabs? “Still milking the wheelchair for all it’s worth, huh?”
He came to a stop in front of me, the constant grimace on his scarred face deepening the pit of worry in my belly.
Julien had started as Zadie’s boyfriend’s friend. I hadn’t even met him until right before he’d moved into this house at the beginning of summer, and even then, he’d hid himself away most of the time. Zadie fussed over him. Amir was constantly stopping by and leaving not long after, looking like someone had kicked his puppy—which was saying something since he could be a scary monster in his own right. One day, I found myself in the same place as Julien. He caught me staring at his scars, which covered almost half his face.
He’d snarled. I’d snarled back and told him he didn’t get to be a little bitch to me simply because he was stupid enough to get hit by a car. I thought he’d murder me. He’d laughed.
So, we were friends now, or as friendly as one could be with a man whose life had been upended in a hideous, violent fashion. Julien didn’t want pity, though, and he hated being fussed over.
“What’s in the bag?” he asked.
I help up the plastic grocery bag. “Well, I did some reading about food that helps with inflammation and—”
He cut me off with a growl. Right. Reading about how to help his pain qualified as fussing. I should have known.
Rolling my eyes, I dropped the bag in his lap and knelt in front of him so we were closer to eye level.
“Okay, how about this, Phantom? It’s been so long since you’ve had sex—because, you know, you’re so hideous, you’re now a born-again virgin. To celebrate, I bought you cherries. Get it? Cherries for your cherry.”
His scarred mouth curled as he opened the bag. I would have gotten a smile out of him if not for the grumble that came from behind me.
I peered over my shoulder. Lachlan stood inside the sliding door, his expression a storm cloud. I guessed he didn’t appreciate my joke as much as Julien had.
“Get out of my house.” His command was low, but there was nothing subtle about it.
“What—?” I spun on my knees. “You’re kidding.”
He threw his arm out, pointing to the door. “Get the fuck out, Elena. You’re not welcome here.”
“Man, she—” Julien tried to speak, but Lachlan slammed his palm into the wall, rattling the glass door beside it.
“Get. Out,” he seethed. “Right now.”
I scrambled to my feet. Julien reached out for my hand, but I tore away from his grasp. My fight-or-flight instinct had been activated by Lachlan’s rage, and flight was winning by a landslide. I ran past him, back to my house, and locked the door behind me, shaking from adrenaline and anger.
I hadn’t found my bearings before my phone started to vibrate. My mother’s name flashed on the screen, and I answered it automatically, like I always did when she called.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Angel, you sound out of breath. Did I catch you at a bad time?”
The worst time. But honestly, talking to her was better than pacing the halls, seething at Lachlan.
“No, I just ran to the phone. Any time is a good time to speak to my precious mother.”
She giggled, and the fist inside my chest unclenched slightly. Giggling was good. This kind, at least. Not the manic, high-pitched, inappropriate laughs always followed by bouts of keening wails. Those laughs sent shivers down my spine.
“I don’t feel so precious when you haven’t stopped by to see me in over a week,” she chided.
“I know, and I’m sorry. I promise to come home before school starts again.”
“Good. And bring your roommates. I’d love to cook for all of you.”
“I’ll see if they’re free. You know, they both have boyfriends. They’re always busy being loved up and doing couple-y things.”
My mother had been enchanted by Helen and Zadie each time she met them. But then, it wasn’t hard to earn my mother’s love, not on her good days. She had the softest heart of anyone I knew, which might have been her downfall.
