Page 69 of Watercolor Skulls

“I promise and I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” He taps the end of my nose, making me giggle.

I hug him tight around the waist, believing for the first time in my life that things will be okay.

We fall asleep minutes after our heads hit the pillow, his arm wrapped protectively around me. But, like every night their cries wake me up. I sit up, blinking, trying to get my bearings. The crying starts again. I shove the blankets aside and quickly make my way down the hall. Oh, god, please stop crying. Please stop.

A light bleeds out into the hallway from an open door. Quietly I creep towards it. When I peek inside I see Jesse pulling Billie Rose from her bed. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” her voice soothes the crying child.

She walks over to a rocking chair and begins to sing lightly to her daughter. A sob escapes me, the love in Jesse’s eyes stealing my breath away. Her head bops up. “Lily, you scared me.”

I push the door open a little more. “I’m sorry, you two look so beautiful together.”

Jesse smiles, waving me into the room. “She wakes up at least once a night. Some of our friends with kids tell me I should let her cry herself back to sleep, but I can’t do it.”

Billie Rose rubs her eyes, trying her hardest to fight sleep, but she isn’t winning the battle. Two blinks, one blink and she’s out.

I take a seat on the floor by Jesse’s feet. “I don’t think you should let her cry.” My gaze roams over the mural painted on the wall. “Some children don’t have anyone to answer their cries.”

Jesse stops rocking to stare at me. “You are right. My grandmother always came to me when I was a child. After she died I lost that. Maybe that’s why I’m so adamant about being here for her.”

Billie Rose stirs, prompting Jesse to resume rocking. “Did you have someone to answer your cries?” she asks hesitantly.

“I don’t remember crying in the night.” I glance at her briefly, deciding to open up. “I was the one who was forced to listen to others cry. I tried to get to them, but the door was always locked. My mom was usually gone and my dad...he was the one causing the anguish.”

Jesse doesn’t say anything. When I stop there, she gives me a push, “Lily, nothing you say will surprise me. I’ve survived the ugliest of men. Your dad is not you. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But I do. I should have done something.”

“How old were you the first time you remember hearing them?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t remember a time I didn’t hear them.” I rise from the floor to get a better look at the mural behind Billie Rose’s bed. “Jenny was the first one I saw though. My dad was good at keeping them hidden.”

“What was she like? Raffe told me she was beautiful.”

“She was.” I sit back down on the floor, wrapping my arms around my legs. “Jenny loved Raffe. She kept going because they said they would hurt him if she didn’t. When they sold her to my dad I think she thought she was free. She was going to end it all, but I stopped her.”

I groan quietly. “God, Jesse, she suffered for so many years after that. I was so selfish. She stayed for me.”

Jesse lays Billie Rose down before sitting on the floor beside me. “It helps when you have someone to live for. She had Raffe, then she had you. If she didn’t think you were worth it she would have split.”

“This is all so crazy,” I say quietly.

“Not going to lie, it is.” Jesse flips her hair over her shoulder.

My eyes roam over the ink on her skin then back to the mural on the wall. “I don’t like that Raffe is hurting.”

She hums in agreement.

“Will you help me with something?”

Jesse cocks an eyebrow. “Hell, yeah.” She stands, pulling me to my feet. “What do you need?”

“Your artistic ability.”

She grabs me, excited as we make our way down to a small room in the basement. She flips the light on. “This is my painting room.”

Spinning in a circle I grin widely. Jenny would have loved Jesse. Both strong free souls. Jenny was free even though she wasn’t if that makes any sense. She never let anyone steal her essence.

“So, what are we painting?”

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