Key to Hell (Hell Night Series Book 4), page 4
I bristle, unbelieving she could say such a thing. How in the hell could she miss me when I’ve done nothing but cause her pain since she was seven years old?
Even so, something warm settles in my stomach.
I stay where I am, ass on my heels, my shoulders hunched and my head slightly bowed as she continues to glide her fingers over my face almost reverently. I wish I could do the same to hers, just to convince myself this isn’t a dream; that she’s real and alive.
“I don’t like it when people touch me. When they get close, I shut down. Deanna and Mick never touched me in the ten years I was with them. In any way. They were always so nice to me, but I never let them get close, physically or emotionally. I couldn’t stand it. I love my brother, and I know he’d never do anything to me, but I’m even scared of him getting too close. I haven’t willingly touched anyone in ten years. You’re the only one.” Her fingers slide through my hair and a shiver races down my spine. “I wonder why that is.”
I don’t have an answer for her. I don’t think there is a logical answer, because what she’s saying is wrong and impossible. Any minute now, I expect her to yank her hand back and start screaming. Until then, I’ll soak up every second of her comforting touch, because it surely won’t last.
I jerk my head to the side when the door whooshes open, a snarl curving up my top lip. The words “get the fuck out” hang on the tip of my tongue. But when I notice it’s Remi walking in with a bowl and a bottle of water, the words die away. Her eyes settle on my hunched form, then flicker to Rella’s hand that she just dropped back to the bed.
“Hey,” she says quietly, lifting the bowl and water up higher. “I wasn’t sure if you were hungry, so I brought some soup just in case.”
She continues to the side of the bed and sets the bowl and water on the bedside table. Rella stiffens, and her hand clenches the sheets. She rolls to her back and scoots as close to the other side of the bed as she can without falling off.
Her tongue darts out and swipes across her lips, leaving a light sheen behind.
“You’re Remi, right?”
Remi steps back from the bed, sensing Rella’s nervousness, and clasps her hands in front of her. She smiles at Rella and tips her head down once. “Yes. And you’re Rella.”
“You’re married to my brother?”
A soft look comes over Remi’s face. Even someone like me, someone who doesn’t feel emotions like normal people, can see the love shining in her eyes.
“I am.” She pauses, weighing her next words. “I also have a son.”
Rella’s eyes widen. “Trouble has a child?”
Some of the light on Remi’s face dims, but there’s still an astounding amount of passion in her gaze. “Well, he’s not technically Trouble’s, but they love each other as if he were. Trouble delivered him and has been a father to him from the beginning.”
“Where’s his real father?”
This time, Remi’s expression darkens, and her eyes move to her clasped hands. “He’s dead.”
Rella sucks in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”
Remi’s head snaps up. Her voice is tender, but there’s an edge to it. It’s to be expected with what that bastard did to her and almost did to Elijah.
“Don’t be. I’m glad he’s dead. He was my best friend’s father… and my rapist.” Unlinking her hands, she crosses her arms over her chest. “He was also the man who used to torment Trouble when he was a kid.”
Rella’s eyes fly to me. “Mr. Leland?” she squeaks. “He was here?”
With a tense jaw, I jerk my chin up. “No one knew it, because he changed his name.”
“He married my best friend’s mother,” Remi continues. “He came here to try to take Elijah for his sick perversions.”
Confusion mars Rella’s features when she looks back at Remi. “He should have known he wouldn’t be able to take Elijah. I mean, he’s a grown man.”
One corner of Remi’s mouth tips up into a mocking smile. “Elijah is my son’s name. I named him after my father. I didn’t know at the time it was Trouble’s name too.”
“Oh.”
“I’ll leave you two alone. Trouble will be by in a few minutes to check on you.” Her arms drop to her sides and her voice dips. “I’m really glad you’re here, Rella. Trouble’s missed you.”
With a smile, she turns and leaves the room.
Rella faces me. “She’s good for my brother, right? He’s happy?”
I nod. “She is, and yes, he’s very happy.”
She lets out a breath. “That’s good. She seems like a nice woman. I’m glad he has her.”
I get to my feet. Ignoring her questioning look, I walk to the other side of the bed and grab the bowl of soup.
“You need to eat.”
Her hair falls over her shoulders when she sits up and rests back against the headboard.
“Will you stay?”
My chest aches at the quiver in her voice.
I nod and hand her the bowl. “I’ll stay.”
“Thank you,” she says quietly.
There’s not a damn thing she should be thanking me for. Yes, part of me is staying for her, but I’m also staying for me.
She doesn’t know it, but there’s not a damn thing on earth that could force me away.
CHAPTER FOUR
RELLA
I SIT ON THE COUCH IN Trouble and Remi’s living room, my hands pressed together between my knees, anxious jitters causing my stomach to pitch uncomfortably.
As soon as Aziah and I walked in, Trouble pulled Aziah just outside the living room doors. I can still see them, but they’re talking so low I can’t hear what they’re saying. Trouble’s back is to me with Aziah in front of him. His eyes keep straying to me, and for some reason, every time they do it sends a wave of calm through me. He’s always been able to settle my nerves.
I look around the room, amazed at how different it is. Nothing reminds me of my and Trouble’s childhood home. I expected to be swarmed with old memories, for it to sweep me away into a living nightmare. Trouble and I may not have been abused in our home as children—that was reserved for The Hall—but I still hated living here because it meant being with the people who allowed others to harm us on Hell Night. Most of the time, our parents were loving and good people, but those dark nights they weren’t far outweighed the good.
When I first walked into the house yesterday, I was surprised at the warm and welcoming feeling. There isn’t an ounce of darkness left in the house. Trouble not only had the house renovated physically, but he also eradicated the evil residing in the walls.
Now, there’s nothing but joy and contentment. It shows in every family picture that hangs on the wall and every toy that litters the floor. I’m glad Trouble’s found his happiness, but I’m also envious because I’ll never have what he has.
My eyes jump back over to the doorway when Remi walks up. She’s holding a toddler with soft brown hair and beautiful, curious blue eyes. He looks to be about a year old. A smile touches my lips when he begins to suck on his thumb.
Remi stops by Trouble, and he bends to place a kiss on the top of Elijah’s head. He does the same to Remi, except hers is on the lips. She says something to him that has him smiling before turning toward the living room.
“How are you feeling?” Remi asks, settling Elijah down on the floor.
It’s still hard to believe his name is the same as my brother’s. We all hated our names growing up and swore we’d never call ourselves by them again. It’s strange how Aziah never seemed bothered when I continued to use his. I wonder if it bothers Trouble to have a son with his given name. From the way his eyes are now trained on the little boy, filled with love, I’d guess it doesn’t.
I look at Remi as she sits on the love seat across from me. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“Did you sleep well last night?”
I take my hands from between my knees and fold them over my lap. “I did.”
I slept better than I have in years. I don’t know if it was just a coincidence or if it was because Aziah stayed in the room with me. He was in a chair in the corner when I fell asleep. I expected to wake up with him gone, so I was pleasantly surprised he was still there. He hasn’t left my sight since, except when we both took showers an hour ago. Even then, Aziah’s shower had to have been the fastest one known to man. It was like he couldn’t stand being away from me. When I came out of the bathroom after my own shower, his face was laced with anxiety, but as soon as he saw me, the look faded.
Feeling something warm and wet touch my hand, I look down. Elijah gazes up at me with his beautiful blue eyes, the hand he had shoved at his mouth, covered in slobber, now resting on the back of mine.
Children are the only people who don’t send panic racing through me when they get near me. I look down at the toddler and smile. “Hi, Elijah.”
He gives me a toothy grin, and the sight makes my heart leap in my chest. Slobber dribbles from his chin and lands on my knee. I don’t bother to wipe it off.
I glace at Remi. “He’s beautiful.”
Her smile is full of love and pride as she looks at her son. “Thank you. He’s become a handful since he started walking a few months ago.” She laughs and shakes her head.
“How old is he?”
“Fourteen months.”
Longing tightens my chest, but I push the feeling away and look back down at Elijah. He’s holding up a plastic ring in his other hand. I hold up my pointer finger, grab his hand, and show him how to put the ring around my finger. This makes him laugh, and I can’t help but laugh with him. Children are so easy to please and they’re so cute to watch. When I was a kid, I wanted a baby of my own. Someone to love and take care of. As I got older and things became worse, I knew it was something I would never be able to have. There was no way I would have brought a child into the life I lived. Now, my life isn’t filled with pain and the fear of what would happen to my child, but it’s still a dream I’ll never have. This time for entirely different reasons.
Trouble and Aziah walk back into the room. Trouble moves to Remi and sits beside her on the loveseat while Aziah moves to the other end of the couch where I am. There’s a whole cushion between us. I wish I was brave enough to ask him to sit closer, but yesterday exhausted my courage for close contact for a while. I’m still surprised I was able to touch him. Of course, it helped that he let me do it myself on my own time.
Feeling eyes on me, I glance up to find Trouble watching me with Elijah, a soft expression on his face. I wish I had the strength to go to him, to have him wrap me in his strong arms. I missed my brother so much over the years, and I’m glad that I’m here with him now, but I hate that I’m wary of being close to him.
Just then, Elijah turns around and spots Trouble. “Dada!” he screeches and waddles off in his direction. A smile tips up my lips as Trouble scoops up Elijah and puts him on his lap. Watching my brother interact with his child fills me with a deep sense of longing. I glance away, pushing the unwanted feeling to the back of my mind. Inadvertently, I scoot a couple of inches closer to Aziah. When I glance back at Trouble, he’s looking at me again. His eyes flicker to Emo beside me and a frown tugs his brows down. I wonder what he’s thinking.
Remi breaks the silence. “I hope it was okay that Trouble brought your stuff in from your car.”
“Thank you. That was fine.”
Except for a suitcase full of clothes, I left most everything back in Odessa. I woke up this morning with my suitcase and a small box at the end of my bed.
“Can you call Jenny? I need to speak with her,” I ask Trouble.
Something dark passes over his face before he looks at Remi. A lead ball drops in my stomach at her pained expression. I glance from one to the other, some internal instinct telling me that something isn’t right. My fingers curl against my legs, my nails digging into my flesh.
“What is it?” I whisper.
“Jenny died a little over nine months ago,” Trouble says gruffly.
“What?” I croak. “How?”
“She was murdered.”
I throw a shaky hand over my mouth. I barely remember Jenny from Sweet Haven, so I didn’t really know her, but in a way, I did. Deanna and Mick talked about her a lot. There were pictures on their walls they took of her before they left Sweet Haven. They kept their distance from her because they worried she would hate them and not want anything to do with them. It tore them apart knowing she was so close, but they couldn’t be a part of her life. Even so, they gathered enough information over the years to know she was happy here in Malus. That knowledge was the only thing that gave them peace with their decision to leave her life for good.
I dart my gaze back to Trouble, tears gathering in my eyes. “Did she get their letter I sent?”
He tilts his head to the side. “You sent that letter?”
“Yes. They asked me to send it if anything happened to them.”
He clears his throat. “Unfortunately, she died before the letter was delivered.”
A tear streaks down my cheek and it feels scalding hot. For the first couple years, I was leery of Deanna and Mick, but after a while, I began to trust them, and even thought of them as parental figures. It hurts knowing their daughter will never know how much they loved her, mourned her absence from their life, and how much they regretted the part they played in her early childhood. I saw their pain on a daily basis. I believe that’s why they tried so hard with me. I was sort of a stand-in for Jenny. I never resented them for that. They were so patient with me those first few years, were there for me during my nightmares and panic attacks, offered solace, and helped me through the dark times. I was grateful and blessed to have had them. I reaped what they couldn’t give their daughter.
The box I brought here was letters they wrote to her over the years. There had to be hundreds of them. Giving them to Jenny was another request Deanna and Mick asked of me. Sadness engulfs me knowing she’ll never see them or know how much her parents loved her.
“How did you become friends with Layla?”
Trouble’s question pulls me from my depressing thoughts. I swipe my tears away and blow out a shaky breath.
“It was by accident, actually. I was going through a rough time, and I came across a grief group online. Although I hadn’t lost anyone, I still felt a huge hole in my chest like I had. Later, I realized it was loss. Deanna and Mick treated me wonderfully, but I still missed you all. It had been years, so I should have been used to it by then, but sometimes it would hit me like it was yesterday.
“Anyway, I was scrolling through some of the message boards, and I recognized the name Malus from when Deanna and Mick told me where you were. She said her name was Layla. I immediately started talking to her, knowing it would be a small connection to you all.”
Trouble clears his throat. “Why didn’t you just say something? Why didn’t you tell her who you were and ask her to tell me?”
I look down at Emo’s hand resting on the cushion between us. His complexion is so much darker than mine. He’s always had a natural tan, while I was always pale. Trouble took after our father, who had Mexican in his blood. I got my mother’s pale Irish complexion.
I zero in on a raised red line peeking out from between his thumb and forefinger. A scar. It reminds me of yesterday when he deliberately hurt himself with the key he told me about. Sorrow skates through my chest. Emo likes to hurt himself.
“Rella?”
I look back at Trouble.
“I couldn’t,” I whisper low. “I was scared to come back here.” I sniff and wipe my nose with the sleeve of my shirt.
“I would have come to you.”
I hate how his voice breaks.
“I know. There were so many times I almost told Layla who I was. I wanted to so much, but I was afraid if I did you would come to me. I didn’t want to lose you again, and I knew I would because you would come back here. That or I would come here with you, and I wasn’t ready for that.”
Elijah crawls down from Trouble’s lap and waddles over to a small tub of toys, plopping down and digging out a block.
“Not that I’m not extremely grateful, but why are you here now?”
I try to ward off the ache building in my chest. “Because I don’t have anyone now. When Deanna and Mick died, I was left alone.”
The pain in Trouble’s eyes doubles. It breaks my heart that he’s suffered so much from my “death.”
His body stiffens, his hands curling into fists in his lap. “You’re fuckin’ killing me, Rella,” he says hoarsely. “It’s killing me sitting here while you’re all the way over there where I can’t pull you into my arms. And there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”
More tears gather in my eyes and slide down my cheeks. I would give anything to have my brother wrap me in his arms after years of not feeling them, but I’m so scared. I don’t want to hurt him by freaking out.
I swallow past the thick lump in my throat and close my eyes. Inhaling deeply several times, I try to calm my breathing and my racing heart. Opening my eyes, I settle them back on my brother, letting him see the heartache I’m feeling.
“I’m sorry.” My voice cracks and my throat tightens even more.
I need my brother more than anything right now, and it both angers me and sends a painful knot into my stomach that I’m denying us both.
Why is it so hard? Why can’t I get over my fear and just be… normal? Trouble would never hurt me; I know this down to my core. It’s been years since I was with Gabriela and Marco. It’s been the same amount of time since the last time I was raped. The last decade I’ve been safely tucked into Deanna and Mick’s home, and no one has come near me or hurt me in any way.
Even so, just the thought of any bodily contact has my mind on the verge of shutting down. My own freaking brother invokes that fear. How fucked-up is that?
I rest the back of my heel against the bottom of the couch and press back until the blunt edge bites into the tendon.
“Don’t be sorry,” Trouble says huskily. “You’re not to blame for this. Just you being here in the same room with me is enough. We’ll work up to the other stuff at whatever pace you want.”
