“But you don’t believe that.”
I glance back at him. “No. I don’t. He has everyone else fooled. Everyone but me.”
Baz rakes his fingers through his hair and blows out a sharp sigh. “I’m sorry, Mackenzie. I had no idea.”
I sniff back the pressure in my nose and force a smile. I squeeze his hand that’s still covering mine. “It’s okay. I didn’t mean to get so heavy, but … I’m also really glad you know. I’ve never told anyone that.”
Surprise flashes over his features. “No one?”
I shake my head. “Her death was the reason I left California. Our family was never the same again, and I just needed a fresh start. One where I wasn’t shrouded in memories of her death. None of the friends I made on the East Coast knew anything real about me. Everything about me has been a lie. And now”—I blow out a sharp breath—“you know why.”
“Do you ever regret leaving?”
I purse my lips, mulling it over. “Sometimes. But I don’t think I would’ve survived had I not. I was in a dark place. I don’t think people realize just how connected twins are. Not having her there when I needed her was … torture. Absolute torture.”
“Starting over like that takes a lot of courage.”
“Or cowardice,” I mumble.
He grows serious. “Don’t do that. Don’t belittle yourself or your decisions. You’re strong, despite whatever you may think of yourself.”
My chin wobbles. “You really think so?”
Baz smiles. The small dimple on the left side of his face makes an appearance, causing my stomach to dip with a floating sensation. His dimple is a rare sight, maybe because he rarely shares a smile like this, and when he does? It has this beguiling effect on me, nearly stealing the very breath from my lungs.
“The second you stumbled into The Den, when there were signs specifically stating it was closed to the public, I knew you were different. So yeah, I really think that. Now, come on. You up for a swim?”
My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth, and I roll my lips together, nodding. I watch Baz rise from the lounger, heading inside, and as I watch him go, something warm curls inside my chest and around my heart. It’s at war with the deep pit in my gut. What I feel for Baz isn’t safe for either of us. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. Because no matter what I feel for him, I’ll never stop trying to get justice for Madison.
I can only hope when all is said and done, my heart will survive the wreckage.
Past
I shift upright on my bed, my brows pulling down into a frown when I hear the silent sobbing in the room next door. Trapping my bottom lip between my teeth, I contemplate going to check on her, but if I know anything about my sister, it’s that she likes her privacy. The last thing she wants for me to see is her crying.
Blowing out a haggard sigh, I get off the bed anyway. A glance at the clock on my nightstand tells me it’s past midnight. I didn’t even hear her sneak back in. Madison’s a master at slipping in and out of the house without waking our parents and, obviously, without waking me, too.
I pause in front of her bedroom door, trying to summon the courage to push inside. With a soft rap of my knuckles, so as to not wake my parents, I tiptoe inside, finding Madison lying on her bed, face-first into her pillow, sobbing.
My feet freeze, and I suddenly wonder if this was a good idea after all. I don’t know how to comfort anyone, so what the hell am I doing?
My parents aren’t the most expressive when it comes to showing affection. We’re not a family that hugs it out or shares air kisses or anything of the sort. My dad has always been too closed off for that. I think the lack of affection transferred to Mads and me, making us incapable of showing our affection physically.
A tightness settles in my chest, constricting with each inhale as I eat up the distance between us. Ever so gently, I perch on the edge of her bed and tentatively place my hand on her heaving back. Her sobbing ceases, and her entire body goes rigid beneath my touch.
“You okay, Mads?”
Within seconds, she rolls around to face me, a glare painted across her beautiful face.
“What the fuck do you care?” she snaps.
“Of course, I do. I hate hearing you—”
Madison slaps my hand away from her as though my touch disgusts her. “Don’t touch me and leave me the fuck alone. The last person I want to see right now is you.”
A lump forms in my throat, and my eyes burn with an onslaught of emotion. I open my mouth, but wisely shut it, unsure of what to say. With a sad sigh, I push upright and slip out of her bedroom as quietly as I came in.
Instead of going back to my room, I go downstairs. I fiddle with objects in the cabinet, pulling out flour and sugar. I grab two mugs and start measuring the ingredients in each cup, mixing and perfecting as I go.
One at a time, I cook the cake mixture in the microwave, and when both mug cakes are made, I clean up the mess and head back upstairs. Summoning an ounce of courage I surely don’t have, I suck in a deep breath and quietly push back into the bedroom. Madison’s murderous gaze swings to mine, and I can see the anger coloring her cheeks.
I hold out the mug toward her. “Mug cakes always make me feel better. Here.”
Maddie’s lips thin into a grim line. “Do you really think a mug cake is going to fix my fucking problems? The last thing I want is to end up fat and boring like you. Maybe try going for a run instead of turning to food to solve your fucking problems,” she snaps. Madison whirls, giving her back to me.
I sniff past the pressure in my nose and ignore my quivering chin. Gently, I place the mug on her desk and slowly turn on my heels, leaving her alone. Just as I grip the knob, her voice halts me.
“Why are you always so nice to me even when I’m a bitch to you?” She sounds confused as if she honestly can’t comprehend why I’d care about her.
I pause over the threshold and grip the doorframe. Tossing her a sad smile over my shoulder, I say, “Because I love you. And that’s what sisters do.”
I tiptoe back into my room and nestle under the covers. I dig into my cake, and with every bite I take, I hate myself. I wish I wasn’t like this. I wish I didn’t always turn to food for comfort or to solve my problems.
When I’m done, I lie on my side, staring out the window at the moon hanging above the stars. The sound of my door creaking on its hinges has me shifting. Surprise colors my face when I spot Madison creeping in, carrying the mug cake I made her. Without a word, I scoot over, making room for her. She climbs on the bed beside me, staring up at the ceiling, looking thoughtful.
“I know I don’t act like it, but I love you, too, Mack. Always.”
Tears trickle down my cheeks at the memory. The cool dirt seeps into my jeans, but I make no move to get up and leave. I’ve lost track of how long I’ve been sitting out here. We laid my sister to rest two days ago, and even though she’s gone, well and truly gone, I still feel her. She’s everywhere. She’s in my head, consuming my thoughts. In the air filling my lungs and the blood pumping through my heart. She’s in the brisk wind and the constant rain that won’t seem to let up.
Drawn to her gravesite, I arrived here earlier this morning, and I haven’t gotten up, not once. I tip my head back, glancing up at the darkening sky, and I blow out a harsh breath. I should probably go now. I know my mom and dad will worry, or maybe they won’t. I went back home after the funeral. My parents seemed somewhat more open to having me around. Grandma and Grandpa made it clear if I ever needed a break, I could always stay with them. And maybe I will.