Page 36 of Don't Let Go

I raised an eyebrow but dropped the mace back into my purse. “Oh? Where did you sneak off to?” I moved my wallet out of the way and found my keys at the bottom of my purse.

“Scottsdale,” he said in a harsh whisper. The way he shook his head made it seem like he said he came from visiting someone in prison.

I unlocked the front door, pushing it open. “It was that fun, huh?”

He followed me inside. I closed the door and locked it behind me.

“It’s late.” Tyler turned on the flashlight on his phone and turned toward the stairs.

“I’ll make a copy of my key sometime tomorrow for you,” I said as we tiptoed up the stairs toward our rooms.

“That would be great. I didn’t think of how I’d get back in when I jumped out of my window.” Tyler said in a low voice once we reached the second floor.

“Tonight was long for me too.” Hopefully, I didn’t look as shitty as I felt.

“Great night all around then,” Tyler muttered as he passed me in the hallway.

I opened my bedroom door and locked it behind me. I let out a breath and sagged against the wood, sliding until I sat on the carpet. It had to be close to two in the morning by now. I’d do almost anything for a shower to scrub Paolo’s strong cologne from my skin, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up.

Lightly, I tapped the back of my head against the door. I could still feel Paolo’s hands on me, making me feel dirty. His urgent kisses and strong grasp on my wrists made them red and tender. I looked down at myself in my purple dress and matching pumps and loathed that I allowed such scum to tear it off me.

I kicked my heels off and hugged my legs as tightly to my chest as I could. My toes fisted the carpet as I laid my cheek against my knees.

In the other room, I could hear Tyler stumbling and muttering to himself. There was a thud like books fell from a table to the floor. Glass shattered as if thrown across the room.

What on earth is he doing in there? He’s going to wake everyone up.

Silence.

Maybe all that energy made him collapse onto his bed.

More muttering, but this time, it sounded like it was coming from outside. I forced my stiff legs to stand and walked over to my window. Peeking through the curtain, I saw the light from his room shining outside.

I turned away from the window, stripping off my clothes. I grabbed a long gray sleep shirt and matching pants from my dresser and pulled them on. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t go to sleep. When I closed my eyes, all I saw was either that morbid meeting about Tyler’s parents being murdered, Paolo on top of me, or that blonde girl floating in a pool of blood. At this point, I’d take a nightmare with Freddy Krueger if that got me to stop worrying about the issues in my daily life.

Tyler cursed outside.

I looked at my comfy bed and then the window. If Tyler couldn’t sleep either, I guess we could keep each other company. Wasn’t that what misery liked best?

I ran my fingers through my hair to tame the crazy wisps before moving the curtains and opening the window.

“What are you cursing about?” I queried, climbing onto the little ledge so my legs could dangle over the edge while I sat on the windowsill.

“Didn’t mean to keep you up. I forget how close our rooms are. I’m used to being the only one in the house.”

“Since your mamma died or since forever?” I followed the heart-shaped print on my pants with my finger until the cotton burned my skin to avoid looking at him.

“Since my mom. She was the best mother. She came to every game, she cooked from scratch and it was always amazing. Her laugh could make you smile no matter how you were feeling. Her entire spirit was good.”

I choked on my words. His mamma was stolen from him, and he had no idea. Was I the one who should tell him? He probably didn’t know anything about the Italian mafia, let alone about how this Jacob guy killed both his parents in cold blood.

“My papà taught me the brass horn like he used to play in high school. Practicing was always our way to hang out together. We’d use that excuse and sometimes go out for ice cream and have long talks instead.”

“Your dad sounds like a cool guy. I always liked going up north and camping with my old man. He had this pickup truck he’d put a camper on, and we’d go up to the mountains or the lake and be off the grid for days. We’d also hang out at our lake house so we could take my mom on trips, too. He taught me about the constellations and their tall tales of where they came from.”

I smiled, looking up at the sky. I could always find the big dipper from my window most nights, but I couldn’t find anything else. Between the other houses, trees, and the city’s light pollution, the stars always felt further away. “I bet those are some good memories.”

“They used to be.” Tyler turned so he straddled the windowsill and could face me. “When I was thirteen, my dad started getting more into politics, and there were so many meetings we no longer went camping and barely visited the lake house. His meetings soon grew further away, sometimes out of state, and he sold the camper and that old pickup truck for something he called more functional, his Mercedes. Soon, he gave megenerous allowances, and the time we spent together became less and less. My anger toward him fueled me when he started missing my games. I was always blinded by rage, and I blocked out a lot of the good times we spent together.”

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