Garden of Sins

“I will ask you once and you will not lie to me, Alayna. Who did that?” Your voice is icy. I’ve never heard it before and it sends a cool shiver down my spine.

“The icebox!” I cry out. “I said that!”

You are still sitting in your previous spot, your shoulder muscles twitching under the tattoos. Slowly, you let your head circle from left to right and crack your neck. I have seen you and Carter do this move many times before. I think you do this to calm yourself when you get upset.

This is not a good sign.

“The truth, Alayna, now, or I’ll draw my own conclusions. And they’re not pretty.” Challengingly, you stare at me and I let my head fall back and stare at the ceiling. Marilyn Manson is still roaring in the background and I’m afraid it only makes you and Carter more aggressive — whatever problem Carter has. But he always has a problem, especially with me.

“Caden, I don’t believe it is a good idea right now. Let’s just drop it. I merely wanted to know what you were up to.” Why did I text you, you idiot?

“Alayna, I’m going to count to three,” you say tightly and pinch the bridge of your nose. My heart is in my panties. “And everyone who knows me knows they have to run on the count of three, at the latest!”

Fuck!

You’ve got that tone again, the one I met over the weekend. Goose bumps run down my arms and a shiver scurries down my back. That tone of voice does things to me that I don’t want to think about anymore because they are totally crazy. For example, acknowledging that I function on autopilot when you use it.

Sweat breaks out of every single pore.

You lift your index finger and I take a deep breath.

Then your second finger follows and you raise an eyebrow in response.

I ca

And out of me shoots, “MY MOM!” and my shoulders sag. “It was my mom!” I’ve never admitted it to anyone before and in shock, I whisper, “Shit.”

Your face shows no emotion, but in your eyes, a storm is raging. “I want you to pack your bag and text me your address.”

“Caden!”

But you’ve already hung up.