Page 22 of The Spider & the Storm

“You’re all ridiculous,” Mom had grumbled, even as she smiled, reaching out to shove against Luke’s shoulder.

He had kissed her cheek before walking out the door, even in front of his friend, and she’d been so happy. She’d smiled all through cooking dinner, singing songs and dancing around the kitchen, and my heart pulsed now with such a tremendous, impossible ache at the thought of never hearing her sing again.

A sob forced its way past my lips as I plonked down on the last step. Then, with my arms folded over my knees, I leaned forward and tried to force the tears back.

There was no way I was going to cry in front of my brother’s friends.

Especially Ritchie.

“What was that?” Tommy asked.

“I dunno.” Ritchie. “Came from over there.”

Footsteps approached, and then there was a quiet gasp.

“Charlie?” Melanie sounded worried, and she sat beside me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “Oh, honey.”

God, I hated the way she talked to me sometimes. Like I was a little kid who needed coddling, and I hated even more that, sometimes, I did. But right now, it felt nice, and even though she was only a few years older than me, she felt as close to Mom as I was going to get in the moment. So, I let her press her temple to my head, and I continued to fight against my tears.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” Ritchie groaned without the tiniest hint of empathy.

More footsteps approached and stopped in front of me, but I didn’t bother looking up to see who it was, afraid that Ritchie had come to torment me during the worst, most nightmarish time of my stupid life. I just kept my eyes closed, shielded by my arms, and waited for the crushing weight of grief to finally subside, even if just a little.

“Hey.”

Luke’s soft tone jolted my heart, and I looked up to find him crouched in front of me, looking back. The dark circlesbeneath his eyes reminded me that he hadn’t slept much—if at all—over the past few days, and I felt even more like a baby as I fought against the urge to cuddle beside him and ask him to take a nap with me and forget all of this for just a little while.

I’m so stupid.

We used to take naps together as little kids. Why had it stopped? Why had things changed? Why was it that, just because we got older, we had to stop doing things like cuddle and nap and hug?

I’m such a freakin’ baby.

“Luke,” I whispered as if I could keep his friends from overhearing.

“Yeah?” he whispered back.

“What are we going to do?”

His shoulders dropped heavily with the weight of his sigh, and his gaze flitted from mine to Melanie’s.

“We’ll figure it out, Charlie.”

“But what if—”

To my left, I heard Ritchie release a guttural, long-winded groan. Someone else—Rob maybe—whispered for him to shut the hell up, but Ritchie never could listen.

He stood up from the beat-up old couch and said, “God, you know, the least they could’ve done was take him with them.”

Melanie took in a sharp breath of air in time with the metaphorical punch to my gut.

“Oh shit,” Tommy or Rob muttered—I wasn’t sure who.

All I could focus on was the overwhelming need to throw up and the look of horrified betrayal in my brother’s eyes.

“What?” he asked, slowly turning his head to look at his oldest, closest best friend.

The kid he’d known practically since birth.

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