To Capture a Thorn (The Society 2)

I laughed. “I don’t mind pictures like that. I just, I like to draw. It’s who I am. It’s what I do.”

“And you do it so wonderfully. You really are amazing.”

I loved her compliments.

“I look so sad.”

“You are sad.” I reached out, taking the notebook from her.

“Do you draw all the time like this?” she asked.

“Yes. I have plenty of books from years gone past.”

“Oh.” She pushed some hair out of her face. “Must be nice to have some form of memories.”

I knew she didn’t have many pictures of her life with Drew or her parents.

“Not that I mind, but why did you come?” I asked.

She glanced around the room. Her hands clasped together. “I … I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, if that is okay. I know it’s a lot to ask.”

“I don’t have a problem with it.” In fact, I wanted her to come to me, to want to be in my bed. I moved toward the bed, lifting up the blankets and slapping the space beside me. “You’re always welcome.”

She laughed. “Always?”

“I’ll never complain to you being in my bed.” I rubbed the spot. “Always welcome.”

“What about your dad?”

“He was aware of what happened Halloween night. Believe me, he’s more of a be-safe-and-protect kind of guy. Besides, you’re different. You know that.”

I waited for her to make the decision. She wanted to come to my bed, but now her old insecurities were flooding back. Her hands clenched, and slowly, she came toward me, sliding in beside me. I wrapped the blanket over her, reminding myself to be the perfect gentleman with her.

“See, not so bad, is it?” I asked.

“I missed you,” she said.

“I’m always here.”

“I know I’ve been … I don’t know what to do. After Drew and then with the school change, I don’t think I got the chance to really mourn her, you know. With Heather, it’s like I’ve lost a part of myself.”

I cupped her face and kissed her head. “Take as long as you like.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.

“You’re my girl, Sian. I will do whatever you want me to do. I’m here for you if you need me.”

I wiped the tears from her face, and she moved closer, wrapping her arms around me. Kissing the top of her head, I breathed in her vanilla scent.

My eyes felt so heavy even though I didn’t sleep well at the best of times.

“Thank you,” she said.

“You don’t have to thank us for anything.”

She curled up against my side, and I stayed awake, listening for her breath to even out. Much to my surprise, the moment I felt her fall asleep, my own tiredness began to take over, and it wasn’t long before I joined her in sleep.

****

Mateo

“You don’t have to keep on sneaking around to see me,” Fred said. “My dad’s pissed off, but work is taking priority now. His nearly dead son is the last thing on his mind.”

“I don’t want to get you hurt.” I had taken a short detour to the lake where I knew Fred liked to go to feed the birds.

After ten months, he was still using crutches and going to regular physical therapy sessions to help him improve his mobility. The beating he’d taken had been a lot worse than people realized, hitting some of the nerves within his legs.

“Mateo, I’m fine. I told you that.”

“You never know who is watching or what they’re doing.” Even now, I could potentially be putting him at risk by just being close to him. I hated that. I hated feeling so helpless.

After coming from a media empire with everyone at my beck and call, being kept on a short leash was not something I cared to get used to. In fact, I found the last ten months really fucking debilitating. I wasn’t the kind of guy to sit back and do nothing.

Yet, that was exactly what I was doing.

Much to my dad’s annoyance, I hadn’t gone to college yet. My life wasn’t going to continue until Sian’s did. That required answers.

I didn’t know if the person who killed her best friend would help. The knowledge of who it was or why they did it.

“How are you feeling?” I asked, needing to cut off these feelings swirling inside my head. They were not exactly helpful. In fact, I found everything related to what went down with Heather and Sian, really fucking disturbing, especially as I knew it was her father. How could her own father have her friend killed like that? More importantly, who? Also the hair. I feel that was a symbolic part. Who would cut off Sian’s hair?

“Me, I’m fine. I’ve got a hot nurse who attends to me at every single lesson but I’m sure you know all about that, and the fact I’m partial to redheads.” Fred chuckled.