Chapter 3
Elenie
She knew.
She just knew that Frank was involved at some level.
And all Elenie could think about was Millie—the seven-year-old she’d babysat for, baking messy, uneven cupcakes, and the seventeen-year-old, fitting on the floor in the death throes of a house party.
Tyson had dealt drugs all the way through school.
Weed at first and then, after it was legalized, anything else he could get his hands on.
Or anything Frank passed his way.
Dean dabbled here and there, too. Yet another reason Elenie had found it impossible to make friends over the years.
“Hi, I’m Elenie! I’d invite you to my house but, honestly, it’s a shithole.
Oh, and sorry my stepbrother pushed drugs on your little sister, and my mother had a drunken shouting match with your mother at the general store.
But on the plus side, my stepdad hasn’t set fire to anything this week.”
Yeah, on the whole, it was easier to find her friends inside the covers of a book.
Just the thought that someone under her own roof might have been responsible for Millie Westlake’s overdose had Elenie’s stomach in knots.
Even reading wasn’t cutting it tonight.
She turned the pages of the romance she’d borrowed from the library, trying to get lost in the yearning, but the hero was blond and a bit of an asshole, and her concentration was shot to ribbons.
“Want to watch a movie?”
She blinked at her mother standing in the doorway of the living room. Moments of connection between them were so rare that the offer took a minute for Elenie to compute.
“Sounds good.”
It sounded great.
They picked out a romcom and made themselves comfortable.
Elenie swung her legs over the arm of the chair, noting new stains on the fabric and a cigarette burn she could fit her finger into.
She submerged herself in the first half of the movie.
They didn’t talk, but the silence was peaceful.
Her mother poured herself a vodka and Coke, and Elenie wondered if it was her first one of the day.
Athena stretched out on the couch, long legs easily filling the space.
Both taller and thinner than her daughter, she had been choosing alcohol or weed over food for as long as Elenie could remember.
The worst times came when she lost herself in something harder.
She hadn’t always been Athena; her mother had been born plain Vivian.
Apparently, she’d hated her life and enjoyed a lot of men—not something anyone wants to hear about their mom.
Athena delighted in her decision to reinvent herself and change her name, as if it made her a role model of some sort.
Elenie struggled to remember any occasion when Athena had taken the same pleasure in parenthood.
Maybe if she’d been an easier baby or a cuter kid, things might have been different.
Isolated evenings like this were a huge part of why Elenie stayed in this godawful house, caught in the limbo land of being too old to still live at home, too broke to live elsewhere, and desperate enough for some kind—any kind—of relationship with her mother to put off working out a solution.
Sometimes she was ashamed of her childish need to prove Athena loved her.
“Have you heard about Millie Westlake?”
The words escaped her before she’d fully decided whether or not to ask.
“The overdose kid?”
Her mother took another long gulp of her drink.
“Yeah, Frank told me.”
Elenie’s stomach roiled.
“Her mom taught me at PS High. Millie’s the one I used to babysit.”
Athena made a noise that might have been an acknowledgment, her eyes still on the screen.
“No one else in Pine Springs would’ve let me look after their goldfish, let alone a child.”
“She liked you.”
Elenie’s skin felt too tight, her thoughts too abrasive.
“They’re a nice family.”
That made Athena drag her eyes from the screen.
“Didn’t stay in touch, though, did they? Not after you left school. You’ve always thought a bit of smarts makes a person better than the rest, but it doesn’t. Being clever, having clever parents, hasn’t done the Westlake kid any good, has it?”
“Everyone makes mistakes.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
Athena reached for the vodka bottle on the carpet and uncapped it. This time, she didn’t bother with the Coke.
Elenie had been new to Pine Springs and a withdrawn fifteen-year-old when Mrs.
Westlake recognized her love of learning, spotting the form of escape it had been for a teenager with an unsettled home life.
Young Elenie had hoovered up facts, devoured books, and absorbed languages, trivia, and history like a sponge.
The more random the better.
She still did. And Mrs. Westlake had encouraged her where she could.
Babysitting Millie and her brother was a sporadic but golden opportunity until the contact with Elenie’s former teacher dwindled.
She’d envied their family life so much at the time.
It was painful to think of the turmoil the Westlakes must be going through right now.
They watched the rest of the movie without talking.
When it finished, Athena scrolled lazily on her phone and Elenie reached for her book.
She’d only bothered saving for a phone once, losing it within a week to a light-fingered stepbrother.
It hadn’t seemed worth the effort a second time.
Money was too hard to come by. She had no friends to keep in touch with anyway, and no desire for instant access to everyone else’s perfect lives on social media.
The room lit up with headlights from the driveway.
Minutes later, the front door opened and closed, and male voices filled the hall.
Years of experience gave Elenie the ability to instantly judge the levels of alcohol, temper, and threat from the first words she heard; this seemed like a promising night.
Frank was laughing, a low, raspy chuckle.
Dean babbled, high and happy, his sentences falling over each other. Strutting into the room, Tyson stripped off his t-shirt and the overwhelming smell of gasoline permeated the air.
“Fun evening, boys?”
Athena tipped up her face, Frank’s kiss landing squarely on her mouth.
“Enlightening.”
He took the glass from her hand and swallowed a slug of vodka before she snatched it back. Lifting Athena’s feet from the end of the couch, Frank slumped on the cushions with a grunt and pulled her legs across his lap.
“Get me a drink, Dean!”
he yelled in the direction of the kitchen, where her stepbrother rifled noisily through the cupboards.
Ty, still bare-chested, sat on the floor in front of Elenie, his back against the armchair. Her eyes began to water.
“Jeez, Ty—you stink.”
“I love the smell of gas.”
His grin was a little unhinged. His eyes glittered, pupils huge.
“I’ll have a beer, too, Dean!”
“Where have you been?”
She didn’t even know if she wanted to know.
“Out.”
Dean sloped into the living room, holding three uncapped bottles. Ty took a long drag from one, let out an enormous belch, and snickered. Athena poured herself another vodka and Elenie decided to make a move. The quiet of her room seemed appealing right now, the draw of her mother’s company fading.
“Seems the Westlake girl’s blown her chances of a basketball scholarship.”
Frank’s voice held an undertone of gloating. His heavyset chest tightened as he raised his beer to his mouth. Elenie felt the loaded look he exchanged with Tyson like icy fingers on the back of her neck.
“So much further to fall when you’re all high and mighty.”
He leaned his head against the couch, the picture of relaxation, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. She knew he hadn’t forgotten her link to the Westlake family. His words were a poke at them and a poke at her, too.
This was Frank all over. Contained but mouthy, throwing out observations like poisoned breadcrumbs. Stirring and provoking—especially her. He’d been doing it for years, ever since he married Athena when Elenie was eight. He got his kicks from pushing her, winding her up, intimidating her where he could. She’d grown used to tuning him out wherever possible and never rising to his taunts. It was really the only way.
“I’m tired. Think I’ll head upstairs.”
Elenie swiped her book from the arm of the chair. Before she’d reached the door, Tyson had taken the seat.
“I enjoyed the movie, Mom.”
Athena didn’t answer but Frank raised his bottle in a mock salute. A dark realization washed through Elenie, tingling the hair on her head and settling on her chest with the weight of a Corny keg. It didn’t matter how she wrapped it up or how much she tried to deny it. This, bottom line, was what her family did.
They set fire to things and nearly killed teenagers.