“Uh, yeah. I do.” His big, sad brown eyes stared back at me, and I almost lost it right then and there. I’d never met someone whose pain was so obvious like that. At least, aside from my brother.
“Good. Use it.”
All I got was a nod before he finally took off, heading straight. I didn’t know why I was so intrigued by him, but I couldn’t get him out of my mind, and now he kept showing up wherever I went. There was something there. Something I couldn’t figure out yet, but I planned to. At least, I hoped I would.
Coming hometo an empty house always reminded me of the gaping hole in my heart. It was always there, ever present, through anything and everything I did. The house echoed as I walked through it, and I tried not to look at the scattered boxes I still hadn’t unpacked. A few of them would be left until the very last minute, just so I could pretend for a little while longer.
Pretending like the empty kitchen didn’t bother me in the slightest was hard. Pretending like I didn’t miss my home in Lindenbergh was also hard. Pretending like I wasn’t missing the complete other half of me every waking moment was even harder.
I showered, got changed, and prepared dinner for myself, all while pretending like there wasn’t a missing piece deep inside of me. Just as I went to work every day, like my life was perfect and complete, and I wasn’t the loneliest I’d ever been in my life. Back home, I had Olivia, who stopped by my house at least once a week and met up with me for breakfast or dinner pretty often. I had friends who loved and supported me. I’d indulge myself with random hookups with women who didn’t mind an older man in their bed. I had been surrounded by people. Now, I was alone.
Sure, I could call Olivia whenever I wanted to talk. Actually, she’d do that for me, always pestering and sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. It was her way of showing me she still loved me, despite our failed marriage. We were always meant to stay friends. That didn’t mean I didn’t miss our married life together.
It wasn’t the same, though. Phone calls and FaceTimes would never completely fill the void in my heart that yearned forhuman connection. Not only that, but for a connection I’d had with Harrison that I couldn’t have anymore. One that’d suddenly ceased to exist, and I still hadn’t learned how to cope with that. Everyone said it’d get easier with time. How could that be possible when time hadn’t existed for us, because our time started with each other? God, I missed my brother. I didn’t think there’d ever be a time when I didn’t.
Trudging into my bedroom, I stopped by my dresser. There we all were, a happy, healthy family of four with no worries or cares in the world, stuck in a picture frame, frozen in time forever. Mom and Dad were smiling so wide, I could barely see their eyes. They had their arms wrapped around me and Harrison, looking straight at the camera with so much love, it always brought tears to my eyes. I’d been no older than fourteen in the picture.
Next to it was my second-most-precious photo. My twin and I, arms around each other’s backs, smiling wide with our identical dimples in each cheek. Harrison was holding a beer in his hand—his third one of the day.
I was forced to leave the photos there, my only reminders of when I’d actually had a family I could rely on. My only saving grace was that Harrison and I were there for each other when Mom and Dad died, but then he did. And it felt like I had no one. I’d been separated from the only person I’d ever truly, fully understood in life, and I was just supposed to deal with it.
As I crawled into my bed, tucking the blankets under my chin, I let them watch over me as I fought for sleep. Alone. It was never easy to do. Sleeping, that is. I kept a soundtrack of rain sounds in the background to try to focus on instead of the ringing in my ears, which had only gotten worse as my damn anxiety had gotten worse, which had skyrocketed since Harrison died so suddenly.
Sometimes, I still wondered if there was something more I could’ve done. If there was a way, I could’ve stopped it from happening. It always made the ringing worse, but I was a victim to it, and there was nothing else I could do.
Haunted, hollow eyes followed me into my fitful sleep. The deep, unspoken universe of pain Moon held within them called to me, though I wasn’t sure I was allowed to answer.
Chapter Three
Everywhere I looked,I saw red. Not in a metaphorical way, but in a literal one. Some days, I was spared the haunting trail of my grievances. Today, I couldn’t escape it.
Red stained my pupils, turning everything a rosy hue I hated with a passion. The empty bookshelf in my bedroom terrified me, because I could almost see Sarah’s lifeless body slumped against it, blood running down from her temple. It was like having a nightmare while I was awake, and I knew I was awake, and none of it was real, but I couldn’t shake myself out of it.
Was this how Crescent felt when he had hallucinations? It made me wonder just how similar it was, even if I didn’t actuallyseeanything in front of me. Was I going to ask him, though? Absolutely not. He didn’t need my shit on his conscience on top of everything else. He seemed to be doing really well with hisnew therapist and medication, but I still worried about him. All the time, actually.
Being the oldest of four came with three times the anxiety, since I constantly worried about all of my siblings, blood or not. The moment Elio had started to come to our house more because his parents were worthless pieces of shits, I’d declared him my little brother, right alongside Crescent. By the time he moved in, I’d have done anything for him. And I did. I killed two people who were hurting him. Terrorizing him. Elio may not share my blood, but he’s always been a Miller, and I’d shed as much blood as I needed to for him.
Even if it was my own.
Even if it wasn’t.
Fuck.My wrists ached, the phantom pain from the handcuffs digging into my skin damn near overtaking everything else. I sat up in bed, scrubbing a hand over my face as I tried to get myself up and around. What I should’ve been doing was searching for jobs, though the search had so far been fruitless. After my little incident six months ago, I’d kind of gone off the deep end for a bit and had to quit the receptionist job I’d had. It’d been boring, but it paid well enough to keep me going.
Now, I wasn’t sure I ever came back from the deep end, but the nest egg I’d built for myself was running out, and there was no way in hell I was going to ask Mom and Dad for financial help. I’d rather have peeled my skin off with a dull potato peeler than do that.
Coming out of my bedroom for the first time all day, I realized that it was nearing two o’clock in the afternoon and I hadn’t even gone to Muffin Haven yet. God forbid I miss a day and let my mind take over every sense of logic possible, deciding that something absolutely horrible would happen if I wasn’t there for one day. It was hot outside, but the scars on my neck burned into my skin, leaving a brand in their wake. They mayfade over time. They may get smoother or eventually go away entirely. Their physical appearance may one day cease to exist, though I’d always know they were there. I would always feel the desperation of a dying man’s grip on my neck as I took away his last breath, etched straight into my jugular.
I could’ve died with Jude that night. Sometimes, I wondered if it would’ve been easier if I did. Maybe then I wouldn’t be battling against every shade of red I saw, immediately remembering the sticky, crackled, and dry feeling of someone else’s blood seeping into my skin.
But what did I know? The only reason I kept going at this point was my family, who took for granted I was the oldest, and I had my shit together. Crescent had struggled a lot when he was in high school. Star was the youngest and studying to be a lawyer. Elio had shitty, neglectful parents as a kid, and then he left our family for almost ten years during his teen years because, unbeknownst to us, he was being sucked into an abusive relationship. Where did my problems fit in?
They didn’t. I was Moon, the oldest, most dependable, most boring son and brother. I was the one who didn’t have anything to talk about or complain about. I never joined any sports, and I never had much of an interesting life. I skated through school with a C or B-average, which made my parents happy, but I never got an award for it. I always had a smile on my face, no matter what was going on with me. I was always happy. I was always doing fine. I never needed anyone before, because I never asked for it. I wasn’t going to start now.
So, even though I was looking through blood-tinted glasses my entire way, I biked to Muffin Haven with a scowl on my face, which changed the moment I walked in. I inhaled the scent of freshly baked bread and wonderfully brewed coffee, standing in line for Stacy to take my order. Though the rest of Heaton Springs seemed to be calm, the bakery was busier than usual.There were two people in front of me and two employees behind the counter, working on different orders.
Stacy smiled at me, all big and cheerful, in front of the red backdrop I couldn’t stop imagining. “Hey, man. I already let Kendra know that you’re here. She’ll get Crescent in a moment.”
“Sounds good. If he’s busy, I’ll just wait for him like usual. Could I get a blueberry muffin and a caramel macchiato?”
