“We don’t know that for sure,” I tell her as she places the bowl into the microwave and presses the timer.
“I’m betting that’s what the detective will say to her. They’re investigating this group, right? They have to know about their rituals.”
I hate that she’s probably right about the group and the rituals. That she knows so much about this. That stuff like this exists in our lives.
When Lila returns to the kitchen a minute later, her eyes are bloodshot and her cheeks are streaked with the remnants of tears.
“Ayden, you need to make sure that you have someone with you at all times for the next few days.” She goes right back to mixing.
Lyric and I trade a look from across the kitchen island.
“How come?” Lyric aligns the lid of the can with the opener and opens the top. “Because the man still hasn’t been caught?”
“Yes. It’s just a safety measure until they can track down the guy and find out if he’s part of this group—get a positive ID on him. They dusted for fingerprints but nothing came up.” Lila taps an egg against the side of the bowl and separates the shell. “The detective brought up the therapy sessions and wants to have another visit to discuss how they’re going. He said we could do it when you guys go down to look through some photos”
“I don’t know why he wants to visit about that. Nothing’s changed. I still can’t remember,” I mumble as the microwave dings.
“Honey, that’s not your fault.” Lila retrieves the bowl of melted butter from the microwave. “You’re doing everything you can by trying.”
I nod, unable to speak. I feel like such a failure over the fact that I’ve gotten nowhere with my memories because my fear of remembering is hindering the progress.
“Ethan’s going to have to go to the concert with you guys,” Lila adds as she pours the butter in with the eggs. “I mean, we were going to go already, but he’s going to have to be backstage with you, to keep an eye on things.”
“Are you sure this is just for safety measures?” Lyric questions as she pries the top of another can open, trading a suspicious glance with me.
“Of course. What else would it be for?” she asks, wiping her hands on a towel.
Excellent question. If they’re not even positive who this man is or why he broke into the house? I think of my brother and how his body was found by that house.
Maybe that’s what this is about.
Maybe Lila knows the real reason the man was in the house.
Maybe he was coming after me.
Chapter 14
Lyric
The next week passes rather quickly, but that might just be because I’m stressed out. We all are. Even at my mother’s slamming art show, we were all a wreck. Fiona kept saying she had a feeling someone was watching us, or more specifically Ayden. After what she said that night, the girl has utterly creeped out.
Most days, everyone just kind of hangs out at the house, waiting for news that never gets delivered. Ayden and I are only allowed to be by ourselves when we’re at band practice, a place that’s quickly becoming our sanctuary through all of this, even though we work our butts off to learn one of the songs I wrote. Actually, the one Ayden and I wrote together.
After a lot of contemplating and Ayden refusing to let us sing one of his songs, I decide we should do the one we wrote. We had to complete it first, though, which took us an entire night, a six-pack of Dr. Pepper, and an endless amount of gummy worms.
But we did it.
Saturday night the tension in our lives briefly lifts like thinning fog. Because Saturday night is club opening night and our band’s first gig. I’m ecstatic the entire day until we’re actually at the club. Then reality kicks me in the face.
“Oh, my God, I think I’m going to puke,” I whisper as I peek out onto the stage. “There are so many people out there.”
“You’ll be fine.” Ayden rubs my back. “And just remember, only you and I are in the room.”
Easier said than done when there are two hundred plus people buzzing with energy all crammed into one room. We’re the first band up, too, something I sarcastically thanked my dad for.
“I’m suddenly wondering why I begged to do this so much.” My eyes remain fixed on the floor. In the midst of the madness, near the bar, I spot my mom and Aunt Lila throwing back shots. Awesome. Guess Ayden and I are going to be DD since they were our ride here.
Uncle Ethan and my dad are around, shuffling people here and there, dictating what to do. The last time I saw my dad, he looked like a wreck, his bedhead/fauxhawk look in full form. I’d feel bad for him, but he’s always said opening a club has been a dream of his for the last ten years, so I figure all the stress has to be worth it.
Most dreams are, right?
“Because it’s your dream,” Ayden reminds me as his hands travel up to my shoulders. His fingers work their magic, unwinding the knots in my muscles. “You can do this, Lyric. I know you can. You’re the bravest person I know.”
“Then you clearly don’t know yourself.”
“I’m not brave at all,” he utters quietly. “I couldn’t even make it through the start of my amnesia therapy without freaking out.”
I embrace his touch as his arms circle my waist. “You’ll get there. It’ll just take some time.”
“Tell that to Detective Rannali. He’s getting super pushy about doing more sessions, like the entire case is riding on it. I don’t get it, though. Even my therapist says the therapy isn’t a guarantee, that there’s a chance it won’t work.”
“Fuck Detective Rannali. It’s easy for him to be pushy and expectant when he’s not the one lying in that chair, facing what you are.”
“But I don’t even know what I’m facing.” He rests his forehead against the back of my head and his erratic breathing tickles the back of my neck. “I’m scared of what I’ll see.”
It’s the first time he’s flat-out admitted he is afraid. I wish I could take away his fear, wish I could free him from his pain.
“I’m here for you if you ever need to talk.” It’s all I can offer him, but I hope it’s enough.
“I know.” He grazes his lips across the back of my head. “Can we talk about something else now? Before I get all riled up.”
I nod. “Um, did you see all the freaking musicians when we walked in? I seriously about died.”
“Yeah, your dad’s got mad connections.”
“Sage is totally working it, too. He went right for the first girl he saw. I think she plays drums for one of the bands. I’ll give it to him. She’s pretty hot.”
Ayden chuckles under his breath. “I love how you can openly say stuff like that, but just so you know, you look hot,” he whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my skin.
I shiver from the caress of his breath and glance down at my boots, netted tights, and plaid dress that hugs my body. My hair is down, black liner frames my eyes, and my lips shine with gloss.
“So do you.” I whirl around to face him. His black hair hangs in his eyes, he’s wearing the leather collar because I suggested it would be fun to wear for one night, and he has on a red shirt and black jeans held up by a studded belt. “My gothically adorable friend.”
“You kn
ow, I think we should create a Lyric Scott dictionary and sell it online.”
“We’ll definitely have to look into that,” I agree, fiddling with the collar on his neck. “I have so many more words sloshing around in my head.”
I angle my head up towards his face. When our gazes fasten, our mouths magnetize toward each other. My breathing quickens and so does his. His dark eyes smolder with passion, and my skin hums with nearly unbearable heat. God, I want to kiss him all the time. It’s crazy how much I want to kiss him.