Lovely Shadows (16 page)

Aidan moved to the next room. Everything about it reeked of Amber. Unicorn paraphernalia covered every inch of space. From the posters on the walls, to the comforter on the bed, to the window treatments, nothing was devoid of the mystical creature. Amber had always been obsessed with them. Throughout the course of their relationship Aidan fed the obsession with gifts. In fact, the oversized stuffed unicorn he won for her at the county fair was propped up against the pillows. Turning around, he left the room and memories behind him.

Amber came into his life like a whirlwind. Blinded by her overt beauty, she sucked him into her vortex. His parents warned him about her, but he refused to listen. When the cheating rumors first started, he ignored them. She constantly reassured him she loved him, and only him. Still, when she started avoiding his phone calls and refused to see him, he couldn't ignore the evidence. He confronted her and she finally confessed. For the first time in his life he considered hitting a girl. Instead, he walked away from her, wishing her dead, preferably through some long tortuous means. Ironic.

Aidan didn't know what to look for. Something here had to point him in the right direction. If he could keep Jessa from coming here, then he'd take whatever he could get.

The house was already such a wreck he didn't bother trying to be inconspicuous. Books fell on the floor, things moved around on the shelves. Aidan didn't care about propriety; he just needed something to assuage Jessa's interest. He found nothing, not even a slip of paper with a phone number.

Feeling discouraged, he left and headed into town. He passed several people he knew, glad that none of them could see him. He stopped at the diner where Margie worked. Many of the local farmers were gathered at the bar, sipping coffee after a long day in the fields. While Aidan considered eavesdropping on the conversations around him, he knew no one there knew anything about Amber, Darren, or the accident.

Leaving there, he crossed Main Street and entered the local bar. Not much had changed in three months. The same drunks loitered at the bar; the same hustlers crowded the pool tables and dart boards. Country music blared from the jukebox. Howie, the bartender and owner, held court with a few regular customers. Over in the far corner of the dark room a rancorous game of poker was being played.

Ugh! All Aidan wanted to do was find Darren and get out. He stopped at every table, checked the bathrooms, and went out back to the alley. No sign of Darren anywhere. Either he hadn't made it yet, or he was up to no good. Most likely, it was the latter, which worried Aidan the most. A Darren that couldn't be found made for dangerous circumstances.

With his options exhausted, Aidan felt frustrated. He needed something to keep Jessa from Amber. If he went back to Browton empty-handed, there would be no way to keep her from coming here. Maybe there was something at home...

The last place Aidan wanted to go was home—another irony. Still, maybe he had something in his old room, something that would satiate Jessa's curiosity. It was worth a shot, and his only option at this point. For her, he'd do anything, even go back to the life he needed to leave behind.

Taking that first step into his house was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Even death had been easier to accept than this. Keeping Jessa at the forefront of his mind, he climbed the stairs one painstaking step at a time until he reached the landing. Four doors faced him—one for each of his sisters, one for him and his brother, and one for the bathroom. The pictures on the wall provided a stark reminder that he'd once walked this very hall; that he and his brother had slid down the banister; that he once had a very real life. Somehow, though, life with Jessa was so much better. He missed his family but having Jessa made death worth it.

He went into his room, not surprised to see nothing had changed. The same sports posters hung on the wall; his bed was still messy from the last morning he woke up there. All his clothes hung in the closet, the dresser filled to the hilt. His shoes were lined up under his bed. On his desk sat his journal, iPod,
The Catcher In The Rye
, his brother's military photo, and some change. Nothing to prove Darren was crazy, nothing to convince Jessa how dangerous Darren could be.

He went back downstairs and into his parents' bedroom. His mother laid curled up in the fetal position, a pillow between her knees, tears wet on her cheeks. This was exactly why he never came home. It seemed his fears weren't unfounded. On the nightstand next to the bed were his baby books and academic medals, two candles, and a lock of his hair taped inside a picture frame. Strange to anyone else, this was normal for Aidan. His mother kept everything.

She needed closure, more than anything. Bending down, he softly kissed her cheek.

“I love you, Mom. You were the best mom a son could ever have. I'm happy where I am now. Please don't cry for me. I love you.”

She sniffled then jerked awake. Aidan stepped back as she frantically looked around the room.

“I love you, Mom. Take care of Dad.”

“Aidan, don't go,” she cried out, her arms thrashing through the air as she tried reaching for him. He let himself fade out completely as she began to cry once more.

He didn't know if what he'd done helped his mother or not, but he felt immensely better. He'd said goodbye to the only person on Earth who mattered more than Jessa. Hopefully, his mother found closure with his death. For him, however, he wanted to know more than ever why he was killed. He'd deal with leaving Jessa later. That was more unbearable than saying goodbye to his mother.

After catching a ride back to Browton, he went straight to Jessa's house He found her pacing the floor in her room. Checking her clock, he discovered it was after one in the morning.

“I'm so sorry.” He crushed her to him. “I shouldn't have left without a note.”

She mumbled something that sounded like “get be.” He realized she said “can't breathe.” He released her then studied her face for anxiety or anger. She appeared rather calm.

“I knew you'd come back,” she said.

“How did you know I didn't just vanish?”

“I felt it here.” She pointed at her heart. “We're soul mates, Aidan. I'd know if something bad happened. Where were you?”

“I went home. I saw my mom, I said goodbye.”

“How do you feel?”

“Good. How were the home visits?”

“Exhausting! I counseled two girls who were fighting over the same guy. No matter what I said, they automatically disagreed. On a positive note, they stopped fighting about the guy. Instead, they began pointing out all the flaws in my advice.”

“How fun.”

They laid down on her bed, letting the dark envelope them. Two weeks had passed since she first confronted him. It felt like a lifetime. He didn't want to think about crossing over. He didn't want to think about murderers or Amber. He didn't want to think of anything except Jessa.

She idly traced concentric circles on his chest. He sat up, yanked off his shirt, then laid back down. She resumed her incessant drawing, and he reveled in the touch of her hand on his skin. Of all the senses he could live without, her touch wasn't it.

“What are you thinking about?” she whispered.

“You, always you.”

She looked up at him and smiled. “What about me?”

“Lots of things: your beauty, your smile, your hair, you laugh, your determination...Everything about you is perfect.”

“I'm far from perfect, Aidan. I have flaws.”

“I think that's the most perfect thing about you. Your flaws make you perfect because they make you human. You're the most real thing in my life. If you didn't have some shortcomings, you wouldn't be real.”

“Why are you so good to me?”

He rolled her over onto her back and stared down at her. “Because you're everything I've ever wanted. Our time is short, and I don't want to waste a minute of it not telling you how I feel.”

“Show me how you feel, Aidan. Show me how much you love me.”

“Jessa, I...”

“No, I need you to show me, Aidan. I just need you.”

That was all the convincing he needed. Hearing the desire in her voice pushed him past his boundaries. He kissed every inch of her face before moving down her throat. She lifted her arms above her head as he continued to move down her body. She moaned when he reached her stomach.

“Jessa?” The question held all the implications, all the questions and answers he needed from her.

“Don't stop,” she said.

He slipped her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. She reached for him and pulled him against her as she sought his lips. He could deny her nothing. Everything he had was hers; she didn't have to ask.

She matched him kiss for kiss. She kissed his face, his neck, his chest, then his stomach.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Though his mind screamed against it, he nodded.

She abruptly sat up. “What? Why?”

“Not tonight,” he said, his words shaky. So badly he wanted to find release but it didn't seem fair. What was she gaining from it?

“Aidan, please...”

He pulled her up to him. “Jessa, I don't know that I'll be able to stop. I want so much more than this for you, for us...”

“Why can't we do it now?”

“Because you're not ready; because you have a boyfriend...”

He expected resignation but she said, “That doesn't matter. You do.”

“We...I can't.”

She sighed. “Why do you have to be so rational?” She laid her hands against his chest.

“Would you regret it in the morning?” she asked.

He shook his head. “You would.”

“How could I? What we are Aidan...It transcends everything: time, space, even death. How could I regret giving you all of me when I'll get all of you?”

The force of her words—the conviction in which she spoke them—pierced his soul. Why had it taken death to experience love? What he had with Amber paled in comparison. In fact, what he'd thought was love was pure lust. He'd been blinded by Amber's beauty, made deaf by her sweet talk. With Jessa, every second was like seeing the sun for the first time; like hearing the rain fall on a smooth pond, soothing and pure. Every touch felt like grabbing lightening yet holding the most fragile vase in his hands.

“What are you thinking?” she whispered, slipping her fingers through his hair.

He pinched his lips together, the emotions rolling through him like waves in a hurricane. How could he put into words what he felt about her?

Patiently she waited as he gathered his thoughts and checked his emotions. Her green eyes shimmered like emeralds even in the darkness. If he looked hard enough, he'd swear he could see diamonds, too.

“Aidan?”

He cupped the back of her neck and brought her inches from his face.

“I was thinking I'd really like to kiss you again.” So he did.

13.

Not for one second did I believe that kissing me was on his mind. A feasible excuse, sure, but not what I wanted to hear. From the way he'd stared at me, with reverence and despair, I knew something deeper was plaguing him. However, I wasn't in the mood to argue with him. Voicing my concerns seemed foolish when so little time existed. I needed to drink up enough of him to sustain me through the rest of my natural life. Unfortunately, I had to face reality in the morning.

Now that she could see him as well, Billie was fascinated with Aidan. As soon as her mother released her from her daycare duties, she was at my house, banging on the door. I let her in with reservation. As glad as I was not to carry my secret alone, I didn't want her intruding either. She sat on the floor and gazed up at him in wonder. She asked questions about being dead and life as a ghost. I patiently sat through her inquisition. Most of her questions I already knew the answers to, but I kept quiet. Instead, I reorganized my desk then reread the list. Obviously, I knew Darren was somehow involved, but I didn't know what capacity. Amber's boyfriend Andy was extremely suspect as well. I had to get close to her to find out the truth about them.

Using a full bladder as an excuse, I left Aidan and Billie in my room, then went to Luke's room to place my call. Amber's phone rang six times before she finally picked up.

“Yeah?” she snapped.

“Hi, I'm looking for Amber Foster.”

“Who the hell is this? I swear, you better not be one of those nasty hos messing with Andy.”

Yeah, right. “I'm doing an article on teen moms, and I was wondering if you'd be interested in an interview.”

She paused. Then said, “Why me? Am I, like, going to get paid? I have a son to feed you know.”

I thought quickly. “If the article goes to print, you'll be paid for the interview. Otherwise, no.”

“Who told you about me?”

Your dead ex-boyfriend, I wanted to say. “Public records.”

“Huh.”

I waited while she snapped her gum. In the background some cartoon blared from the TV while two male voices chatted. After two minutes passed, my patience grew thin.

“Do we have a deal, Ms. Foster?”

“Fine. Where do we meet?”

“Tomorrow at McDonald's. I'll buy you lunch.”