Aftereffect (The Order of Ravens and Wolves Book 1) Page 3

  “Yeah, I got them.” And promptly threw them out.

  “Did you thank him?”

  “What exactly am I supposed to thank him for? Slapping me in handcuffs? Or locking me in a cell?”

  The smug look on Micha’s face the night still pissed me off.

  “Criminals go to jail, Riley,” My dad rolled his eyes my way, “If you don’t want to get locked up, then don’t break the law.”

  Geez, you paint a couple of buildings and suddenly you’re a criminal!

  “It’s not like I sold drugs,” I argued with my own eye roll.

  “Do you have any idea how long it took Severson to remove that circus you painted on the side of his store?”

  Last time Shelby and I were Severson’s, she tripped and knocked over a display. It wasn’t our fault, but that didn’t matter. To the owner, we were just some kids from the wrong side of the tracks dirtying up his establishment. He said if we wanted to horse around, we should go to the circus. So, I gave him one.

  “I don’t know,” I smirked, “but it took me over an hour to put it there. You know as a father, you should be seriously concerned about the law enforcement in this place. I didn’t see any cops when I was out ‘breaking the law’,” I said, with finger quotes. “I mean, what if I was getting raped or something?”

  “Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about that if you were home, where you should’ve been, now would you? God knows who your mother’s been letting you run around with.”

  “Mom didn’t let me do anything!”

  “Exactly my point!”

  I wanted to say something. Defend Mom, but there was nothing to say. Being known as the sheriff’s daughter came in handy in my neighborhood. Most people didn’t mess with me, and I was more than capable of dealing with the ones who did. On the other side, I was also known as the drunk’s daughter. At the age of sixteen, I’d probably been in more bars than most adults, and was on a first name basis with the three owners of the ones closest to our apartment.

  I turned away before my dad saw the tear roll down my cheek. Mom promised this time would be different. That she’d go through the program and stay sober. When things got better, I actually believed her. And then she crashed her car in the middle of the night, on an empty street. My thumb brushed over my shirt, tracing the scar on the right side of my abdomen.

  At least no one was with her this time.

  “Things are going to change. This year you’re going to Ashworth Academy.”

  “What’s wrong with my school?”

  Ashworth was where all the silver spooned assholes went. Not exactly a place where someone who knew it cost nine cents to flush the toilet belonged.

  “You need friends who can teach you better values.

  I snorted. Yeah right, like the value of designer labels, and a good manicure.

  “Over eighty percent of Ashworth’s students get into Ivy League schools.”

  “Right, cause I’m so Ivy League material,” I muttered, picking at the flaky blue polish on my nails. “Chase wouldn’t make me go there.”

  “Chase isn’t your father! I am.”

  I met Chase the night my parents told me they were getting divorced. The news crushed me and I ran down to the bluffs to hide. Chase was standing there at the edge of the cliff with a bottle in one hand. He looked so lost, and all I wanted to do was help him. So, I walked over, grabbed his hand, and told him it would be okay. I’d help him find his way home.

  Ever since then, he’d always been there for me. Coming to school functions and helping me around the house. Chase was the one who taught me how to ride my bike without training wheels. He helped me with homework and nurtured my artistic interest. Unlike my dad, who expected me to be the upstanding beacon of mortality that fit his picture-perfect image.

  “Chase wouldn’t throw me in jail for having a little artistic vision.”

  “Graffiti isn’t art, Riley!” my dad scolded. “You need to let go of these childish dreams and grow the fuck up. My daughter will not waste her life as a starving artist!”

  “Who said anything about starving? I hear the prostitution rachet is pretty lucrative.”

  His face blanched. “You’re not having . . . I mean . . . are you?”

  Of course, that’s the only thing he’d take from that.

  I sighed and flopped my head back on the smooth leather seat of his cruiser. “Don’t worry, Dad, my virginity remains intact.” And I doubted that would change anytime soon.

  “Keep it that way,” he reiterated with a finger point.

  I threw my hands up in the air. “Well, there goes my weekend plans.”

  “I know you just lost your mother, but that doesn’t give you the right to be an asshole,” he said, turning the cruiser down a long driveway, lined with lilac bushes. “Drop the attitude. We’re here.”

  I grumbled under my breath and watched the flowery bushes pass by. Maybe I was being rude? He hadn’t done anything to me. If anything, my dad was kind of supportive. He didn’t argue about me going to Mexico. He even let Chase go with me, though he could only stay for the funeral. I kind of expected my dad to insist I come back with Chase, but he let me stay for a week. Which was kind of shocking, considering how overprotective he was. At least that was something I could always count on.

  As soon as I saw the house, I no longer cared whether I was being rude or not. I’d like to say it wasn’t impressive, but that would be a lie. The perfectly cut sheets of green grass stretched on for what seemed like forever. Surrounding a building that, in my opinion, was way too clean to be lived in. I scanned a pair of white pillars, framing a large blue door, almost afraid that I’d dirty them just by walking by.

  A couple of men worked in a garden to the left, while a woman in a black and white uniform dusted the banister on the porch. In the middle of the driveway, a cute little cherub stood on a marble leaf pedestal, pouring water from a tulip-shaped jug, filling my ears with a soft trickle. It even sounded better up here. The nicest thing we had down by the docks was Shelly’s Chicken Shack.

  I don’t know why this pissed me off. You were supposed to be happy for your loved one’s when they did well, right? My dad worked hard all his life, and though he was strict, he usually did the right thing. Even if it made people mad. I respected that about him. Maybe it was more about who’s house this was? There was a time I thought my parents might work things out, and then Paisley Hudson came into the picture. The queen of Ashen Springs. My dad went off to live his life with her, and Mom turned back to drinking.

  “Only one fountain.” I stepped out of the cruiser, unable to keep from sneering at the stone cherub. “What will the ladies at my next garden party say?”

  “Stop it!” my dad ordered. “Paisley’s been looking forward to meeting you. Don’t be an asshole.”

  “Whatever,” I grumbled.

  Don’t know why he thought I wanted to have anything to do with her now. I didn’t even go to the wedding. Looking up at the house, I sighed. Guess I didn’t have much of a choice.

  My expression soured further, when a blonde woman burst out of the house, waving at us. Her bright eyes sparkled in the sunlight as she rushed over.

  “You sure you want her to be my role model?” I asked, staring at her red summer dress – which probably cost more than Mom’s car. “She doesn’t wear much, and I’d hate to give boys any ideas.”

  “Very funny.”

  I thought it was.

  “Be nice,” my dad, quietly scolded.

  “Oh Riley!” Paisley cried out, pulling me in for a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  Who hugs someone they just met?

  “Riley, this is Paisley,” my dad said, stating the obvious.

  Paisley took a step back but kept her hands on my shoulders.

  Really?

  “You look so much like your mother,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “Such a pretty girl.”

  “Not as pretty as you.” I sang with my be
st fake smile. “Look at that dress.”

  “Oh, this old thing.” She giggled, and waved her hand through the air. “Once you’re settled, I’ll have to take you shopping. I know this fabulous boutique . . .”

  I arched my brow at my dad. Seriously?

  He arched his brow in response.

  “Anyway, we can discuss that later. I want you to feel at home here, so if there’s anything you need, just let me know.”

  “Do you have a bar?”

  “Um, yes,” Paisley said, a bit unsure.

  My dad glanced down and me and growled, “Riley!”

  “What? She wants me to feel at home,” I said looking up at him. “How can I do that if I’m not scraping someone off a bar floor?”

  Paisley’s face dropped into that same pitiful look everyone gave me.

  “Riley,” my dad sighed, “you mother had her problems, but she –”

  “She what?” I interrupted, brows raising in question. “Loved me? Would never leave me alone? or how about, I was the one thing that gave her the strength to get better?” I snorted out a snicker. “That was a good one.”

  My dad, placed his hand on my shoulder, which I promptly shrugged off. I didn’t need his sympathy, and most importantly, I didn’t want it.

  “You can’t think like that. Your mother was sick.”

  “Sure,” I muttered, snatching my bag off the backseat of the cruiser, and marching towards the house. “Heard that before, too.”

  “Riley!” my dad called after me.

  “Let her go.” I heard Paisley say.

  The phrase ‘Toto, we’re not in Kanas anymore’ came to mind the second I stepped through the door. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I just walked into a scene from Gone with The Wind. I looked up, following a wide staircase to a balcony overlooking the entryway. Well, I would call it a balcony, but I’m sure there was some rich person name for it. There were tiny bits of useless furniture everywhere. A table big enough to hold some weird plant. A wooden chair that a doll might fit in, and various other things. Mom and I had to put a book under our table to stop it from rocking, and none of our chairs matched. Here they had tables and chairs only for decoration.

  The dark hardwood floors gleamed in the sunlight, and to the left, on the other side of a large archway, I could see the shiny appliances of a kitchen. I stood there, staring at the set of glass French doors on the other side of the kitchen, and the pool beyond. I was so flabbergasted by my surroundings, that I didn’t hear Paisley come in.

  “Riley?”

  I squeaked and sprang forward, clutching my chest.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “It’s okay.” I said, settling my beating heart.

  Paisley smiled. “Would you like me to show you around?”

  I shrugged. “Sure.” Probably need a guide in this place anyway.

  Paisley pointed out each room as we passed. By the time we finished the tour of the second floor, I was more than ready to escape to the confines of my room – which I would probably need a map to find if I ever left. She opened the door and I walked in, stopping after a few steps.

  Is this a bedroom or an apartment?

  In the middle of the room, on the plushest beige carpet I’d ever walked on, sat a large four poster bed. There was a set of bedside tables and a dresser made of the same light wood. Much like me, my Minnie Mouse pillow looked out of place among the frilly lace-lined pillows stacked against the headboard.

  Down a couple steps – yes steps – was a navy couch, flat screen T.V, and small coffee table. Because every teenager needed their own living room. In the corner by a big bay window, complete with cushioned bench seat, was a desk. On top of the desk, sat a brand-new laptop and various writing implements. Other than my boxes of crap, this room looked like it came right off the page of a magazine.

  I spotted a cluster of six original cels of Minnie Mouse, hung on the wall. I dropped my bag and walked over, gingerly tracing the wooden frame.

  “Do you like it?” Paisley asked from the doorway. “They’re drawings from Disney.”

  I rolled my eyes. No shit!

  “And this,” she continued, strolling over to a framed brown leather jacket hung up by a door, “is something someone named Ripley wore in some movie.”

  I staggered, staring at the signed picture of Sigourney Weaver in the corner by the jacket. Aliens was my favorite movie. Did my dad know me after all? My eyes narrowed. Was he trying to buy me?

  “This is your closet,” Paisley explained, opening the door beside Ripley’s jacket.

  I will not be bought by material things.

  The closet was as big as my last bedroom and filled with clothes that weren’t mine. At least not one’s I already had. There was even a place for a large vanity table amongst the rows of shelves and hangers, something completely wasted on me. Other than mascara and the occasional lip gloss, makeup was a foreign concept to me. What did catch my eye was an easel stacked in the corner with all the art supplies I could possibly need.

  “A little bird told me you liked to paint.”

  Crinkling my nose, I stared at the art supplies. “My dad told you to get that?” What happened to ‘no daughter of mine will be a starving artist’?

  “No,” she said, spinning around to walk over to another door. “Here,” she explained, opening the door to show me a beautiful black bathroom, “is your bathroom. That’s Logan’s room.” She pointed at the adjoining door.

  Oh right. I forgot about that. My new stepbrother was Logan Hudson, best friend to the Antichrist himself. Mom didn’t just leave me alone, she tossed me in the ninth plane of Hell.

  “You two have to share. I hope that’s okay?”

  I sighed, eyeing the four-claw bathtub, and stand alone shower. “That’s fine.” Bathrooms were communal space after all.

  “Logan’s not here right now, but I’m sure you’ll meet him later.”

  “We’ve met,” I grumbled. “If you don’t mind, I’ve had a long flight . . .”

  “Of course.” Paisley nodded and sauntered out the door, “If you need anything, let me know.”

  “Sure,” I muttered, resisting the urge to slam the door in her face.

  Seconds after Paisley left, R.E.M’s ‘Shiny Happy People’ blared loudly from my pocket. The song brought a smile to my lips. It was my way of poking fun at my overly bubbly best friend.

  “Hey,” I said, answering the call.

  “Are you back?” Shelby’s sweet voice rang out. “What am I saying, of course you are. If you were still on the plane, you wouldn’t answer your phone. Though I could see a miserable bitch like you, dragging a plane full of people to hell.”

  “Only if you were on the plane with me, whore.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault I’m utterly irresistible.”

  We both giggled.

  “How’d it go with your dad?”

  I groaned and rolled my eyes. “He’s sending me to Ashworth.”

  “Oh my God! I hate you! You’ll be eating gourmet food while I’m choking down the cafeteria’s soggy ass pizza.”

  I wondered what Shelby would say if she saw this room? Would she look at me differently? Would they all look at me differently?

  “You like that soggy ass pizza.”

  “Yeah, but maybe I’d like escargot and caviar better?”

  My lips curled. “Of course you would try caviar.”

  “Can’t be any worse than Maggie’s peanut butter pancakes.”

  I gagged, remembering the day Shelby’s little sister decided to make us breakfast.

  “Have you met Paisley yet? Marnie said she saw her working at the church fair. She was all smiles, handing out cookies and stuff.”

  Paisley seemed like the cookie giving type.

  “She hugged me,” I explained, with a groan.

  “And she’s still alive?”

  I shrugged. “Didn’t have anything to stab her with.”

  “Well, look o
n the bright side . . . you get to live in the lap of luxury while the rest of us pretend to be excited for the neighborhood BBQ.”

  Shelby wasn’t poor. Her mom was a nurse, and her dad was a lawyer. Not a very good one, especially since his practice was barely holding on, but he was a lawyer, nevertheless. They had a modest house and enough money for Shelby to get her own car.

  “At least you’re not trapped in Stepford.”

  “Oh come on. It can’t be that bad. What’s your room like?”

  I flopped back on the bed, hating my dad and his happy wife, with their picture-perfect house. I could keep this bed though. Wow! It felt like I was laying on a cloud.

  “It’s . . .” I paused, searching my brain for the right word, “big?”

  “Damnit,” Shelby groaned. “Maggie hid Dad’s keys again.”

  “Check the cookie jar. That’s where she hides her money.”

  “You know, it’s not fair that you know more about my little sister than I do.”

  “What can I say, the squirt loves me.”

  “Ugh! I’m coming! I gotta go. Stay strong! Don’t let those Stepford bitches turn you into a mindless drone. Call me tomorrow.”

  “I will,” I promised.

  “Kisses.” Shelby sang and hung up.

  I tossed my phone on the mattress and searched my bag for Mom’s brown sweater. I could still smell her as I inhaled the fading flowery scent and dropped on the bed. Flooding my mind with her bright smile and sparkling eyes. Images that now caused an aching, hollow void in my chest. I’d never hear her voice again. Never feel her warm embrace, or smell the sweet scent of her perfume. It was all gone. Taken away by one selfish decision. My whole world was ripped apart because the one person I loved most in this world, couldn’t love me back.

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  My growling stomach woke me up. It been awhile since I had a decent meal. Not for lack of my aunt trying. Every time I turned around she was shoving food in my face. Even showed up at the airport with muffins. Apparently, my family’s way of dealing with pain was to eat. While my uncle and Chase were more than happy with the all-you-can-eat food supply – the only thing they could cook came from a can – all I wanted to do was lay in bed and forget about the world. Which is exactly what I would’ve done if, Chase hadn’t drug me out every morning.