Page 11

Without a word, I jerk my chin to the balcony next to it, a giant spider perched there.

“Groooooss!” Brenna draws out, then makes wretching sounds. I just know her nose is wrinkled at the sight.

She’s so fucking cute. And a puzzle. What the hell is attached to her? Who the hell am I protecting her from? What the hell does he want with her? There are so many questions and I know I won’t get any of the answers I’m looking for by riding around town with a hot girl on the back of my bike. Sooner or later I’m going to have to say goodbye to her. After one more detour, I tell myself.

Quicker than I would have liked, I park in front of the coffee shop, our apartments sitting side by side above it. Brenna lets out a happy sigh and the noise hits me square in the chest.

“Gabriel, that was soooo cool!” she says, her small hands patting my shoulders excitedly.

My arm moves behind me, palm on her hip as I hold her steady as she dismounts. It was a long ride, and she told me she had never been on a bike before. I remember the first time I rode. I was young, dumb and wanted to outrun my responsibilities. I rode for hours. By the time I parked up outside Mama Celine’s I felt lighter than I ever had before. Until I got off my bike and shaky legs and gravity had my ass hitting the ground.

Brenna makes her way off and her legs buckle slightly, but I’m there, both hands on her, holding her steady. Her shocked gaze hits mine before her head tips back and she lets out a snort.

“Damn legs!” She grins.

“Are you going to be OK to get upstairs?” I ask, my hands still gripping her hips. Could I let her go? Of course I could. Do I want to? Not at all.

“Gabe, I’m a big girl with working legs. I got this.” She winks, stepping back out of my hold.

My hands feel cold, empty and I quickly shove them into my pockets to give them something to do. “If you’re sure.”

“I am. Besides, it’s Wednesday and I know you’re like, super busy with whatever it is you do for your sister.” She smiles, as if what I do for my sister is completely normal and not dangerous. “So I better let you get to work. Before Kristie has to come down here and crack the whip.” She makes a “wpsshhhh” sound and instead of being annoyed that I have to go do actual work, I instead sit here, on the back of my Harley softtail, and grin like an idiot.

My cheeks shake under the strain of holding a smile and that’s when it hits me. I don’t smile like this. Just…out in the wild without a care in the world. I mean, sure I smile at my sister. I think. And Mama Celene. But this? Smiling because I can? Feeling lighter than I have in a long time and not feeling the usual irritation I normally do when I’m in the company of others? This is Brenna and whatever magic spell she’s put on me.

“I know you feel it,” Grammy’s voice cuts through my thoughts and I choose to not turn her way.

Not just because I know she’ll have a shit-eating grin on her kind old face. But also because I do not want to see a pink haired, pink tracksuit clad old lady perched on my Harley handlebars, swinging her little legs back and forth.

I also don’t reply, merely grunt as I watch Brenna walk away. The mushroom patches on the back of her jeans pockets drawing my attention to her heart shaped ass.

“You know, I should curse you for staring at my granddaughter’s ass,” Grammy starts and I let out a groan that I’ve been caught looking. “But it’s a good ass. She gets that from me, you know.” My groan turns into a disgusted sound and Grammy throws her head back and cackles loudly.

“I’ve gotta go see my sister. You coming?” I ask, shutting down her cackling. Marginally.

“Of course I am. Where you go, I go.”

I eye her for a moment, remembering not only what Brenna told me, but also the dates on her tomb. “Usually when souls don’t pass, they find me soon after death. You didn’t.” Grammy’s gaze looks everywhere but at me. “Where were you before three days ago?”

“Oh, you know, here and there.” She waves a hand in the air. “Quick, chop chop, you know your sister is a busy woman and has places to be. People to kill,” she mutters the last part under her breath and I roll my eyes.

You know what? The old lady can keep her secrets. I’ll find out. I always do.

Brenna

I stare at the croissants sitting on the baking tray in front of me. Actually, croissant is a loose term for what these things are. Grammy and I always tried a new recipe every Wednesday and I like to keep the tradition alive.

Why don’t you ask him if he wants one? There goes that inner voice again. You know you want to. “No I don’t,” I reply aloud. Like a crazy person.

He likes you. I can tell.

“Oh yeah? And how can you tell that?”

He always comes into the shop.

“Yeah, because his sister is one of our best customers.” I argue back, trying to shape my pastry a little better.

He didn’t need to sit and chat with you at the cemetery. But he did. He listened to your stories and incessant chatter.