He blinked at the blood caking in the locks of curly hair he’d grown fond of. He pictured the way Oli used to twirl it around his fingers whenever he was excited about something—like a scene in a movie he loved and wanted Rabbit to see, or a song on the radio he listened to when he was a kid.
Now that hair was matted and soaking with crimson and for what felt like another lifetime Rabbit’s brain simply could not process what he was looking at.
December shifted in the shadows then, the sound of her heels scrapping against the concrete path finally pulling Rabbit out of his stupor. Her hair was in disarray now as well, her bangs falling before her pinched brow. She was scowling down at Oli’s body, but not in a confused or upset way.
Derisively.
Like she couldn’t believe he’d dare step foot on her property and he’d gotten what he deserved for it.
Rabbit’s gaze trailed lower, stopping on the shattered bits of the flower pot still clutched tightly in his mother’s right hand. One large jagged piece remained in her hold, the rest bits of broken eion ceramic littering the walkway.
The pot had been large enough he’d needed two hands to carry it when he’d brought it out here to the side patio greenhouse. It wasn’t a very large structure, only around five by five feet, and made of thick glass. They hired someone to take care of the grounds. His mother was far too busy to waste her own time on such frivolous things, yet deemed it necessary since this side of the house faced the closest neighbors.
She seldom bothered coming here, so he’d thought it was the safest place for the potted plant when it’d been gifted to him by Oli last month.
Eion ceramic was tough, one of the harder materials, sturdy enough to keep in the cantankerous roots of the everlove mint plant Oli had picked out for him. He’d gone with mint because that was the last color Rabbit had successfully unlocked on the beiska. It’d been just the two of them alone in the practice room—with all the lights thankfully on—and he’d done it absently in the middle of a conversation, his fingers mindlessly strumming at strings.
Rabbit hadn’t told his mother about the color either, both it and the plant becoming his little secrets of sorts. Things he thought he could keep and protect, small as they were.
Apparently, he’d been wrong, because now both Oli and the mint plant lay sprawled out at his feet, one dead already and the other surely in the process of dying now that it’d been removed from its special soil. Everlove mint was rare and hard to come by and wasn’t cheap. He’d inherited a comfortable amount of coin when his parents had passed, but was by no means rolling in it. If he was careful with his spending, he could probably live off of it for a good five or so years. Purchasing frivolous, overly expensive plants shouldn’t be a part of his budget, and yet he’d gotten them for Rabbit.
Oli had refused to tell Rabbit where he’d bought them too, no matter how many times Rabbit had asked, most likely because it’d been a hassle to get.
And now all that effort was going to waste.
“You killed them,” the words slipped past Rabbit’s lips, shaky and weak. Bewildered despite the fact he’d witnessed it all.
He’d witnessed it, meaning there was no use denying it away like he had everything else. When he stared into his mother’s eyes, all he saw was the monster that lurked beneath her polished veneer.
“You did,” December corrected. “Youdid this, Rabbit. This is your fault!”
“No.” He shook his head and took a step back, but his mother only followed, her foot coming down on one of the delicate branches of the everlove mint, snapping it beneath her weight without so much as a thought.
“I warned you not to get close to anyone,” she reminded. “I told you it wouldn’t do you any good, that it would only end in heartache. You need to be focused on your music.”
“He was my friend.”
“He was no friend! A friend wouldn’t distract you and put your entire future at risk the way he was!” She dropped the rest of the pot and grabbed his face, smearing blood from her palm across his left cheek.
She’d cut herself on the ceramic and hadn’t seemed to notice.
“You need to learn your lesson so that this doesn’t happen again,” she said, her gaze wild, her mouth twisting into an evil smirk. She appeared unhinged, and he was terrified.
“Mom,” he tried to pry her hands off but she was having none of that, “stop!”
She twisted them and then shoved, laughing when he stumbled back and tripped over the ledge leading into the greenhouse.
Rabbit hit the ground with a heavy thud, pain vibrating up his tailbone and throughout his legs. It was too dark, and he flicked on the light in a panic. He forgot all about it, however, when the sound of something being dragged caught his attention, and he looked over in horror to find that she was yanking Oli’s body by the leg toward him.
He scuttled backward, struggling to his feet only to come up against the back table. He knocked it over, pots falling and shattering, the sound not nearly loud enough to drown out the pounding in his ears.
“What are you doing?!”
With a strength he hadn’t realized she possessed, she bent and lifted Oli and then with one hard shove, pushed him into the greenhouse right at Rabbit.
Rabbit caught him, because what else was he meant to do, but when Oli’s head lolled to the side he let out a cry and dropped him.
Oli’s body slid to the ground and remained there, partially pinning Rabbit’s legs against the table. The small space and his much larger form meant he was now blocking the exit, the smell of dirt and blood mixing and itching at Rabbit’s nose.
