Three days
We all have a moment or few when we fly through life, forgetting the minuscule times whilst we focus on the bigger ones that will pave our way for a more appealing future.
I've had some.
The last one was just this week.
I was paving my future of getting Sabastian Delroy out of it.
For the past three days I succeeded.
I'd avoided Sabastian Delroy, even as I felt his presence lurking in the shadows, waiting. I succumbed to the touch of Reagan Orniel because he was the boy I'd always wanted, knowing that when I closed my eyes at night it wasn't his blue-eyed gaze I sought.
For three days I succeeded until Saturday afternoon when I switched on the wall mounted tv my dad kept in the dining area to watch the stock.
I was drinking a cup of coffee and waiting for Aiden to take me to see Rae.
My white denim shorts and blue t-shirt I had on was exactly the outfit I needed to climb up the attic ladder that Rae and I would eventually end up climbing so we can enjoy a few beers without her brothers sniffing our noses.
I was still flying high, my day looking good.
Then everything just seemed to slow down as I listened to the brunette reporter,
While investigators are attempting to get a name of the forty year old Jane doe found yesterday night just outside Liston Hills, insiders that found the body says that we could be looking at first degree murder..
Her voice faded from my listening as I stared at the corpse and what caught my eye, what really had me doing what I did next was the butterfly tattooed to her hand.
So now here I am, my still full coffee cup on the white ivory antique table and the ringing in my ear.
Talk, The bite of Sabastian's voice on the other end of the phone I'm clutching like a lifeline in my trembling hand tells me that I've made the right choice in calling him. Sabastian will fix this.
It's Dainy, can we meet, it's important, I say, not knowing what else to.
He doesn't even think about it, not even a second of thought passes when he answers,
When and where? And the relief in my tense shoulders lessens because that is the Sabastian I know, the guy that I once called mine.
So is it any wonder that I choose the one place I know won't be disturbed by anyone,
Our spot in twenty.
When I get off the phone I let out a small scream when I find my brother lounging casually on the corner chair. His white tee and crisp jeans are new and the yellowing bruises on his face a few days old. My parents left yesterday to New York so my brother was all too happy to come home.
Ready to go? I ask him
Yeah, who were you talking too?
Sabastian, I need to go see him. He is quiet for a beat and my heart rockets that my brother might know something is up.
He stands up and pulls his key out of his denims, Well go the back way, Ill drop you close to the cabin.
My eyebrows shoot up,
How did you, how ah... I stutter.
You are my sister, Dainy. There isn't much I don't know. Come on. He smiles a little and I follow him out the door.
The back-route drive to the Delroy's, and Stone Estate is mercilessly quiet. My brothers comment is something that for some reason holds me in a haze between cautious curiosity and nervous understanding.
Our normally quiet roads are unnaturally busy today. This is Liston Hills, people are indoors, either having a party or attending one. If youre not doing that then you must be working, or jumping on your helicopter leaving for the weekend. People in Liston Hills aren't out, driving their Porsches in the afternoon unless there's reason and we all know it's the forty year old Jane Doe, with the black butterfly tattooed to her flesh.
I shiver for no other reason than the image from the t.v while I watch the unusual bustle in my small community.
Is there any other reason? We have one major mall and a couple of restaurants that knows a Saturday is a quiet day. Of course, there is no other reason, and as we drive to our destination, my stomach turns and twists like a warning call of what's to come.
It's easy to spot the three-story cabin, which can be seen clearer from the end of the road as we skirt around the edges of the titanium enforced, brick covered walls surrounding The Estate.
Five miles past The Estate entrance is the Delroy's cabin. My brother is still quiet, there is no music to fill the void unless I'm counting the loud drumming of my heart as I see the chrome metal that I know belongs to Sabastian parked out front as my brother drives up on to the driveway.
Are you going to be okay? My brothers voice should help my sudden stupor but I remain silent.
I'm not sure how to answer him, truth is it feels like I'm doing something wrong, like I'm betraying Reagan.
My traitor of a body is excited, yet my scraped and beaten heart is still suffering the effects of Sabastian Delroy.
You know the one where you just have to block it out, and forget that you care for that person, forget that you saw your future only with that person as it consumed you. Until you were there at the edge waiting for them to wrap their hands around your waist, and whisper those delicious words you crave like the hit of caffeine in the morning. It came for me, he did it all, and I forgot about Reagan. I forgot about everything except him, Sabastian Delroy. Then he reminded me, he showed me why I hated him, why I was supposed to stay away from him. He showed me how it was to really rip someone to shreds, to leave them bleeding without a trace of evidence but the silent tears that leave the glow of a shattered heart behind. Sabastian Delroy taught me fear.
