Hush

Orion was also glad that April was treating Shelby with the care and kindness she needed. Even as a bitchy teenager, April had been able to read people, to be kind when they needed it. To be the friend who picks you up in the bad times and forces you to have a good time until you forget about it. Even if that meant pretending to forget, for April’s sake.

April eyed the room and the fast food wrappers littered around it. “Good to see those cops are doing something right with their money.” She reached over to snatch a burger from a container, took a bite, screwed up her face, and quickly spat it back into the cardboard. “Yuck! Cold.”

It was jarring for Orion to witness her like this. April was exactly the same as she’d been before. Grown up, obviously, but the core of her hadn’t changed. Scarred, like Orion, but radiant too, alive in a way Orion couldn’t comprehend.

“April, we’ve got an early morning tomorrow,” Orion said coldly. She hated that she got the chance to live a life where she could hug strangers, smile with abandon, and show her body like she owned it. Decorate herself in beautiful scars.

April didn’t even flinch at her tone, or her thinly veiled way of telling her to leave. She just glanced between the two beds. “All three of you are sleeping in here?”

Shelby pointed toward the door between the TV and the bathroom. “My parents are in there. I’m staying with them. They’re already asleep, and I’m . . . not tired yet.”

The truth was, Shelby didn’t quite know how to deal with being around two emotional adults who had loved her, missed her, torn apart the world looking for her . . . and couldn’t keep their hands off her. Orion guessed it was just as strange coming back to two parents who loved you when you’ve forgotten how to love as it was coming back to two dead parents who lost their love long before.

They were raw edges. Everything was harsh and loud and there was too much expected of them. Orion was glad for Shelby’s parents. She’d met them. They were tired, emotional, wearing mismatched clothes and definitely confused, but they hadn’t let go of Shelby the entire time she was in their presence. And they went on and on and on about how thrilled they were, how long they had looked for her, how many nights they’d cried themselves to sleep. Shelby had been alternating between panic and relief. They were like April. Another reminder of who they’d been. Girls who died in a dingy basement. Women who remained as nothing more than shells. The time between an abyss of what ifs and darkness.

April looked from the door to the room. She bent down to her purse, rifling through it. “Okay, parents are asleep. I’m guessing there are one or two things the cops didn’t deem essential for you ladies coming out of a fucking nightmare into another one called reality.”

She pulled out a flask and a joint, holding them up in the air like fucking Lion King. She smirked. “Luckily, I’ve got you bitches.”

Jaclyn suddenly decided she liked April, smiling wide.

Orion frowned. “April—”

“Heck yeah!” Jaclyn interrupted, taking the flask from April and drinking deep and long. Almost immediately, she coughed and spluttered.

“What is that?” she asked, wiping her mouth.

“Fireball,” April replied, grinning.

“Fire what?” Jaclyn asked with a furrowed brow.

Something moved on April’s face, too quick for Orion to comprehend. “Cinnamon whiskey. Drink up. It’s good for ya.”

Jaclyn nodded, going in to drink again.

“Go easy, Jac,” Orion said, stepping forward. “You haven’t had a drink in . . . how long? And your body hasn’t been full of this much food in about the same amount of time. How about you pace yourself?”

Jaclyn rolled her eyes. “It’s two shots, Mom. I think we deserve a little something to take the edge off, considering our . . . situation. Don’t you? Here you are ready to kill a guy and you’re bitching at me about some booze.”

“Kill a guy?” April asked, brows scrunched.

“Jaclyn!” Orion narrowed her eyes. She then looked toward April. “She’s an idiot.”

April took the flask from Jaclyn and offered it to Orion.

Orion considered it for a moment but shook her head. She wasn’t ready to try everything the first night back. Wherever this was, she wanted to process it all with a clear mind.

“And you’re a bitch,” Jaclyn retorted playfully.

“Sounds like us back in the day,” April said, chuckling, but she carried sadness in her features. She eyed Orion for a beat, her gaze soft and full of pity. She kept the flask out in front of her.

Orion didn’t break, waving her off.

April nodded, turned to Shelby.

Shelby eyed the flask, and then took it, surprising everyone in the room.