Page 3 of Queen Rose

Nate

As I steer my old Jeep toward home, I get all caught up inside my head, wondering for the hundredth time what exactly is going on with Aria. Why does she have such a need for control? One minute she seems her normal self—a sassy, sharp-tongued, strong girl. And in the very next, she can shut down completely. It’s as if she’s keeping something from me that she can’t bear to put words to. I’ve seen it in her eyes. There’s fear where there shouldn’t be. Incredible guilt, over… I have no idea what. But the signs are there. Something has happened to her.

There’s something—someone?—she refuses to talk about. Not him. It was clearly a slip. I’m positive she hadn’t meant to say those words, hadn’t wanted to expose that tiny piece of information. If she thinks I’m going to be able to let it go, she doesn’t know me very well.

But I’ll set it aside for now. For her. Because she asked me not to make what we did about anyone else. Aria is an enigma. She keeps so much about herself tightly under wraps. I’m beginning to find it really fucking worrisome.

Someday, though, she’ll open up to me the way I want her to. Someday, I’ll see the entirety of her beautiful soul. She’ll let me in, and I’ll understand every last corner of her heart and her mind. And until she feels like she can, I’ll be right here for her. How could I not be when she’s blindsided me this way? I’ve never felt like this before. I’m stupid for her and can’t deny it.

No one is perfect. But, flaws and all, I think she may be perfect for me.

As I approach my neighborhood, I see it’s mostly quiet and strangely pitch dark, except at the end of the street where it looks like there’s some sort of service truck parked and a few guys working with lights on their hats. Oh man. I bet it’s a blown transformer or something.

Groaning, I pull into our driveway. There are no lights on inside the house, just a single flicker of light visible through the window. Mom probably has a candle burning. I’m actually sort of surprised she was able to get out of bed. She’s often said that if something comes up, she’ll find a way to take care of it, but I’ve tried damn hard to make sure she doesn’t have to worry about anything. Until now, anyway. Damn, I feel like shit for not being here. But if I hadn’t gone with Aria, I’d have worried about her all night.

I hurry from the Jeep, unlock the front door and let myself in. “Hey. What’s everyone doing out of bed?” I shoot Mom a wink, and she gives me a relieved smile.

“Nate! It’s dark! Really, really dark,” Brandon whisper-shouts. Not really sure why. If I had to guess, he’s likely enjoying the novelty of being awake in the middle of the night, and because it’s nighttime, he thinks he has to be quiet? Kids are funny. He wraps both arms around one of my thighs, his five-year-old version of a hug.

“It’s darker than the Bat Cave, isn’t it?” He grins at my reference to his favorite cartoon. He loves the really old version from the ’60s—the ones with the Scooby Doo crossovers. Can’t say I don’t enjoy watching them with him. I squeeze his shoulder, then turn my focus to our sister.

Becca tilts her little face up to mine and gazes at me with tears in her eyes. Uh-oh. “I w-woke up, and it was d-dark, and I tried to find you, but you weren’t h-here.” The hitch in her small voice makes me think she’s going to start bawling if I don’t say the right thing.

I pick Becca up and hold her close. “It’s okay. I’m here now.” I rub my hand over her back, and she lets out a shuddery sigh. Score one for big brother.

Mom presses her lips together as she watches us, like she’s trying to figure out what to say. After a few seconds, she sighs heavily. “Sorry to bring you back home. They woke up and their night lights weren’t on and got a little scared, I think.”

“Not me! I’m not scared.” Brandon puts his hands on his hips and frowns up at me.

I resist snorting out a laugh at him and simply say, “I see that. Good job.”

Becca burrows her face into my neck. Poor girl. She’s never liked the dark. The night lights we’d put in their room have always been more for her than for Brandon, even though she’s older.

I meet Mom’s questioning gaze. I know what she’s thinking—she’s totally worried the electric bill didn’t get paid. She’d asked as much in her text messages, which is why I didn’t share them with Aria, who doesn’t need to be aware of how close we cut it on a monthly basis. Of course, she already knows that I fucked everything up and let my entire family down, so maybe it’s dumb to try to hide things from her.

I pull out a chair and sit, depositing Becca onto one of my legs, clearing my throat. “The entire neighborhood is out. There’s a crew working on something down the road.”

From where she’s sitting across the table from me, Mom visibly sags, her shoulders drooping heavily. She nods silently as she presses a few fingers to her lips. I have no doubt she feels badly for thinking I screwed up.

As far as she knows, I haven’t given her any reason to think I’d mess up. She doesn’t have a clue about the community service or the fact that I got caught stealing food to feed Becca and Brandon. She thinks I’ve been doing odd jobs and landscaping all day every Saturday for extra cash, when the reality is I’ve been spending part of my day picking up roadside trash. Thank God I’m eighteen so no one contacted her when I got in trouble. Ugh. Why does this suck so hard?

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got everything under control. Lemme get the kids in bed, and then I’ll help you, too. Okay?”

Blowing out a breath from between pursed lips, she grimaces. “Okay.”

I give her a quick smile before I kiss Becca’s temple, and stand again, holding her perched on one arm, while I hold out my other hand to Brandon. “Come on. Back to bed. If you shut your eyes, morning will be here before you know it, and you can watch cartoons.”

Against my neck, Becca whispers, “Can we leave the door open?”

“Yep.”

“You aren’t leaving again, are you?”

I shake my head. “No, sweet girl. I’m not. Promise.”

Once my brother and sister are tucked back into bed, I leave the door open a crack and make my way back to the kitchen.

Mom’s arms are folded on the table and she’s resting her head on them.

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