Page 68 of Blood Sport

“She’s a psycho,” I say, rolling my eyes to the back of my head. “She can talk shit about me behind my back for all I care, but for her to say those things to my face was uncalled for. And, of course, I wanted to stand up for Jaylen, too. He doesn’t deserve that kind of treatment either.” Rylee bites her lip to hold back a smile. I roll my eyes playfully when she wriggles her brows at me. “No, none of that, Ry. I don’t want to hear a single word about it.”

She covers her mouth and nods, although I know she’s grinning like a fucking Chesire cat. “Okay, okay. Not a single word, I promise.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I flop backward onto the bed and stare at the ceiling. After spending time with Miles this afternoon, I realized that I need to pay a visit to my Aunt Jas. We didn’t talk about our parents specifically, but we did talk about random childhood memories that triggered a thought. It wasn’t something I had considered until that moment that now seems like a great idea.

Why hadn’t I thought to do it until now?

If I want to know more about my parents—what they were like before they died and any other useful pieces of information—then my aunt is the best person to go to. She knew them like the back of her hand, so if I’m going to take a step forward in finding out what happened to them, then I need to pay her a visit.

23

Evie

This house holds many memories for me—mostly good—but also reminds me of all I have lost in the past ten years. When I see the rose gardens by the front door and the large oak in the front yard with the rickety wooden swing hanging from its sturdy branches, I’m reminded of why I moved here in the first place. And why I had to spend the rest of my adolescence living with my aunt.

Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, I inhale slowly through my nose and exhale through my mouth. I shouldn’t be nervous to see my Aunt Jas, but I am. She is the reason why Miles and I had a roof over our heads after our parent's murder and why I’m able to afford to live in the sorority house with everything I could possibly need. If it wasn’t for her generosity and willingness to be there for us when we needed someone the most, we would’ve ended up in the system and possibly separated. She kept us together, and I couldn’t be more grateful.

We keep in contact whenever we can, but what I want to talk to her about can’t be a conversation through text messages. I need to ask her in person, to see her reactions and hear her answers, instead of trying to understand her words through a screen. If anyone knew my mom better than my dad, it was Aunt Jas.

After hearing the details on the news of the upside-down crosses being carved into the foreheads of the murder victims last week, I knew I had to pay a visit to my aunt to see if my mom had disclosed any further information to her about the murders in the '70s. I’m hoping it somehow has a connection to the current murders happening in Pullman. I want to try and draw a connection to my parent's murder, but they weren’t vampires so that wouldn’t make sense. But still, I want to learn something—anything—that might help all of this make any fucking sense. While I’m here, I may as well ask her if she knew of Mom having a friend with piercing blue eyes.

Learning more about who my parents were might help me figure this whole thing out and bring me one step closer to figuring out who killed them.

Aunt Jas is only a short drive down to Lewiston, reminding me of the years I grew up here with my brother. We had a lot of fun living with our aunt despite the dark storm cloud that constantly followed us after the murders. Jaylen’s parents lived a few streets away from us, which is why the three of us were always together growing up.

I smile as I get out of my car and walk toward the front door. Not much has changed about the house since moving to WSU two years ago. The rose bushes have gotten bigger, and the blue slates on the exterior have begun to weather as the elements get to it. I’m sure the upkeep is a lot for Aunt Jas to maintain. Before she took us in, she had a husband, but he died of an incurable illness. She doesn’t talk about him, and I respect her wishes to keep the ordeal private. But it does mean she has to take care of the house herself, and I do worry about her at times.

My closed fist collides with the front door and I take a step back, clasping my hands behind my back. I can hear Anut Jas’s footsteps approach from inside the house, the floorboards having grown squeakier over the years. When the door swings open, I’m met with a pair of pale blue eyes staring back at me, surprise crossing them first before it morphs into happiness.

“Evie!” Aunt Jas squeals, rushing forward to wrap me in a big hug. “If I had known you would be dropping by, I would’ve made my world-famous chocolate chip cookies that you and Miles love so much.”

I smile against her shoulder as the cool scent of lavender and rose washes over me. Another thing to add to the growing list of nostalgia. “I wanted to surprise you.” I pull away but still keep my hands planted firmly on her slim shoulders. “And it seems it worked.”

Aunt Jas still dresses like she did when she was my age in the ‘70s, wearing black flared pants and a bright green top that shows off her slim arms. I remember when she would show Miles and me photos of her and my mom when they were my age hitting the bars in their stylish outfits and crazy big hair. Looking at her now, I swear this woman hasn’t aged a day in her life.

“Come on in,” she says as she loops her arm through mine and pulls me into the house. I manage to close the door behind me before we walk too far away. With what’s happening in Pullman, I don’t want to take any chances. “I just put the kettle on for some tea. Care for a cup?”

“Please,” I say with a smile and slide into my seat at the dining table. Growing up, the three of us had our favorite seats at the table. Mine faced the backyard, overlooking the apple and lemon trees. “I’m sorry to just drop in on you like this. I hope you’re not too busy.”

“Nonsense,” Aunt Jas says, waving me off with her hand as she walks to the cupboard above the stove and pulls out two tea cups with floral patterns. “You know me, I don’t have much else going on besides going to my book club twice a week and meeting up with some of my friends for coffee in town. Besides that, I stay home to cook and clean. I enjoy it.”

“I know,” I say softly, watching her as she moves around the kitchen. She recently had it renovated. Gone was the pale green cabinetry that is now replaced by off-white cupboards and a brand-new stove.

Growing up, Aunt Jas and I would sit down every Sunday morning with a pot of tea and cookies to catch each other up on our weeks. It was a nice way for us to fill each other in on what was new, especially as I was going through high school and dealing with friend or boy drama. But sitting here now like this with her makes me smile, reminding me of all the times that we laughed and cried together.

Aunt Jas sets a cup of hot water down in front of me, making sure to slip the teabag in before taking the seat across from me. I wrap my hands around the warm mug and look out at the backyard through the backdoors that open onto the deck, taking in the apple and lemon trees that have only grown bigger over the years.

“So, to what do I owe this lovely visit from you?” Aunt Jas says, breaking the silence. “Is everything okay with school? And Miles?”

“Yes and yes,” I say, taking a sip of the tea. “School is good, and Miles is doing well. I don’t know how often he calls to check in with you, but he’s doing good, I promise.”

She smiles. “That’s all that I can ask for.” Shifting in her seat, she tilts her head to the side. “Okay, so what’s going on?”

I exhale slowly, my leg bouncing underneath the table as I try to find the right words to start the conversation with. “I’ve been having… nightmares recently.”

“The same ones you’ve been having since the incident?”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat after hearing her call my parent's murders an ‘incident’ but it’s her way of sugarcoating the situation. “Yes, those ones. When I finished high school, they stopped for a couple of years until recently. As in the past few weeks. At first, they were vague, not showing me much more than when I found… them.”

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