Page 32 of Roses and Skulls

What in the fuck is going on?

“Elijah, you remember Billie Rose,” my mom says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Clearly happy her nephew is here.

Fuck. It’s Elijah. The candy man is Elijah.

To be clear, he’s not her real nephew, it’s just what she calls him. Just like I call his dad, William, my uncle.

Oh shit.

The stranger, aka Elijah, smiles wide. “How could I forget little Billie Rose.” He steps towards me and before I can make a dash out of here, he wraps me up in a giant bear hug, ruffling my hair.

Jesus, he smells good. This is not fair.

A hand wraps over my shoulder and drags me away from him. My dads’ fingers dig into me, holding me in place at his side. “I believe we have some business to discuss,” he tells Elijah, a clear warning to stay away from me in his tone.

My dad takes his free hand and holds it up to his mouth, whistling for his officers. “Table, now.”

Mom stomps her foot. “Dammit, Dirk, the food is ready. Club business can wait.”

He shrugs, shaking his head. “Sorry, hun, if he is going to prospect, he’s got to expect his meals a little cold.”

And with a tip of his head, Elijah follows him, along with the others. The double doors to the meeting room slam shut behind them.

The women and remaining club members all make their way outside to the patio where I’m assuming the food is set up.

Prospect?I ask, mindlessly, turning in circles, my head and my heart struggling to make sense of it all.

Cole and Carson start laughing, punching each other. “Told you she didn’t know,” Carson says.

“Boys, go get yourself something to eat,” mom shoos them out the door. “Billie Rose, I told you Elijah was coming to stay with us. That he was prospecting.”

Did she? No, because I would have remembered any conversation concerning him.

My eyes lock on the doors he’s behind. How did I not recognize him? Oh, maybe because it’s been fourteen years since I saw him last.

I rush past her, and head outside. The world is spinning. Jackson calls after me, but I ignore him. This can’t be happening. He’s just arrived, and he already knows all my secrets.

When I get to the treehouse, I lock myself inside and rummage through my little box of treasures until I find the blade I’ve hidden there.

After shoving my jeans down, I pierce the soft flesh and breathe a sigh of relief.

Okay, everything is okay.

Yeah, sure it is.

Nothing is okay.

My chimes jingle in the breeze on the other side of the door. My head drops in shame as blood pours out of the cut I just made. Grandpa would be so disappointed in me.

I brush the blood away with my thumb, sucking it in my mouth. When the coopery taste hits my tongue, I cringe inwardly. I’m so stupid. So, fucking, stupid.

A knock on the door sends me scrambling to pull up my pants.Hold on,my phone tells my unwanted guest.

When I open the door, Jackson is facing away from me, staring at the forest floor. He backs up slowly, holding his arms out to his side in a gesture of protection. I just about trip as he continues pushing me back farther into the tree house.

“What in the fuck?” he whispers, turning around once the door is shut firmly behind him.

I hold my hand out in question, bored with his shenanigans already.

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