Chapter 17 Mina
Mina
As the sunlight starts to bleed through the curtains, I stretch and breathe in the unfamiliar scent.
It's strange. When we got here last night, he let himself in like he’d lived here all of his life, but nothing about this place felt like him.
His sheets don’t smell like his cologne or his shampoo.
Neither does the house. Everything smells like freshly washed linens and cleaner.
The shampoo and body wash we used last night weren’t even the same scent he had on him the night we met.
My eyes are still closed as I pat the bed next to me searching for his warm body, but the bed is cold.
“Myles?” I quietly call out as I sit up.
The nightmare of yesterday begins to sink in, but then I think of last night.
How tender and loving he was. I confessed exactly how I feel about him, and he feels the same about me.
It was one of the most amazing nights I’ve ever had.
The good memory of last night wins against the nightmare… at least for now.
I stand and wrap the sheet around my body. The house’s AC is on, and the floor is cool. It’s quiet. The only sound in the house is my bare feet on the hardwood floor and the swishing of the sheet dragging behind me.
“Myles?” I call out a bit louder, but still there is only silence. Where the fuck is he?
I sleepily walk around the kitchen checking the fridge and pantry. Nothing. Not a single thing to eat or drink. I open the cupboards. Plates, cups, and bowls are neatly stacked, but nothing matches. There’s a coffee maker on the counter, but no coffee.
Where the hell am I?
I spin slowly, taking in the living room. The dark walls. The mismatched couch and love seat. The broken armchair in the corner. I sit on the couch running my fingers along the coffee table. A bright red stain sits on top. Paint?
A memory hits me. A wave of nausea rolls in my stomach. I close my eyes, and I can see it. My dad and I were here. I wanted my nails painted red like my mama’s. He said Uncle Milo would do it when they finished their game. Milo ended up knocking over the bottle…Uncle Milo.
My eyes shoot open.
“MYLES!” I shout as I head back toward the bedroom. I glance in the kitchen once more and notice a photograph magnetized to the fridge.
I pick it up and stare at the worn photograph.
The edges are curling from age. I sink to my knees and lean against the fridge to keep my body up.
The photo is just how I remember them. My mom and dad, smiling and laughing.
They’re holding me, and next to my dad is.
..Myles. A much younger Myles, but there’s no mistaking it. It’s him.
My vision is blurred by the tears burning in my eyes as I storm back to the bedroom with the photograph in hand. I reach for my phone and stop. On the nightstand is a dark brown leather book that looks like a photo album. On top of that is a piece of paper folded with my name written on it.
Lumina.
No…No!
I sit on the bed and stare at the folded-up paper. I don’t want to open it. I know what’s written inside. He tried to tell me last night, but I wouldn’t let him. He told me we shouldn’t. He said if I knew who he was…
“Fuck!” I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees while running my fingers through my hair. I grip tighter and pull at my strands as the tears continue to fall.
He left me. Again.
Where the fuck was he when Mom and Dad died? Where was he when I was passed from foster home to foster home? Why didn’t he find me? Why?!
Maybe they wouldn’t let him because he wasn’t actually family.
My father was an only child this much I knew.
And my mother was from Europe and met my dad when she was here on vacation.
I know the stories because when I moved back here at eighteen, I talked to so many people who knew my parents.
I tried to find their house, but when I did, I was told by the bank that it was privately owned and the owner wouldn’t sell.
I never went back to the house because the memories were too painful.
I need to know why.
I pick up the album and note, then sit cross-legged on the bed as I flip the album open.
It's filled with photos of my dad and Myles growing up.
They were always together. There are photos of my parents and him as well.
Then there are ones of all of us. My heart shatters as I see my parents' lives frozen in a fucking photo album.
Sometimes I wish I had died with them.
I touch the back of my head and feel for the small, raised scar from the injury that caused me to slip into a coma as a child. It’s still there.
I glance again at the note and breathe. I choke back the last of my tears and try to calm myself before reading a note that will ultimately break my fucking heart.
I pick it up and slowly open it.
My beautiful Lumina,
I’m so sorry for the words I’m about to write.
I’ve thought about this a lot. I was up all night.
As I flipped through the photo album that I left you on the nightstand, I realized I couldn’t stay.
It’s breaking my heart to even write this, but you deserve to know the truth.
I just wish I had known the truth a long time ago. Maybe things would’ve been different.
The night they found your parents’ car still replays over and over in my mind.
I was told there was no way there were any survivors, and it fucking destroyed me.
Your father was my family, not by blood, but from a bond we built when we were kids.
We grew up together. If you look through the album, you’ll see all the fun your dad and I had.
He was my best friend. So, when I was told you all died, I left.
I couldn’t stay in the home where we grew up without him.
I ran and never looked back. I cut ties with everyone from this town because it was too painful.
Shortly after the accident, the bank contacted me to let me know that your father had left me the house, but I refused to come back. It’s been empty for twenty years. I had people come in and clean it in case I ever did sell it.
When I came back to town, I was finally going to sell the house. When I went to Badlands that night, I wanted to be numb. I wanted to drink and forget everything. But the universe had other plans.
From the moment I saw the lights hit your silvery blue eyes, I felt something. I couldn’t explain why I felt the way I did. Especially so fast. It was confusing yet calming. I felt connected to you somehow.
I swear, I didn’t know who you were when I met you.
All I knew was that you made me feel something that night that I haven’t felt in over twenty years.
Happiness. But when you kicked me out, I was so worried that I’d hurt you somehow.
I walked around all night with only you on my mind. I knew I had to see you again.
When you said your name at the diner, everything clicked into place. Your eyes are just like your mother's. Your smile and nose are definitely from your dad. I don’t know how I didn’t see it all from the start.
I don’t regret anything that we did. You brought me back to life.
You made me realize I can let go of the pains of my past. I want you to know just how much you mean to me, Sunshine.
I’ve never cared so deeply for someone. Someone I could see spending the rest of my life with…
Not until you. But that’s why I have to leave.
You have your whole life ahead of you, Mina.
I’m not the man you deserve. You deserve the life your parents would have wanted for you. One that isn’t with me.
You’ve become my entire world in such a short time, but it would be selfish of me to stay.
I hope one day you can forgive me for what I did.
I should’ve told you the moment I knew it was you, but I was selfish.
I wanted just one night, and as horrible as it makes me sound, I don’t regret how I feel about you, and I don’t regret what we did last night. It was perfect.
You are perfect.
Please don’t ever change, Sunshine.
When you’re ready, the keys are on the nightstand. On the table in the kitchen is a stack of papers signing the house over to you. It's been in your family for generations, and I know your father would’ve wanted you to have it. The house is almost exactly how they left it the morning you guys left.
Love
Take care,
Uncle Milo
My tears fall, and the ink smudges. He’s lived the last twenty years believing we all died. No wonder he freaked out when I said my name. He thought he was staring at a ghost.
I hold the note to my chest as I lie down on the bed. My entire body hurts. It feels like I was hit by a truck. He left me. He said how much he cares about me and still fucking left!
I set the note down and then pick up the photo from the kitchen. We look so happy. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss them. I see their faces in my dreams. But I hear their screams in my nightmares.
I glance past my cellphone to the keyring sitting on the nightstand.
I pick it up and run my fingers over the three keys.
They look like they haven’t been used in years.
Two look like house keys, but there’s a weird painted one that’s small.
It’s black with Myles and my dad’s initials scratched into the paint.
It's time.
I quickly throw on the robe that’s hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
It still has the tags on it. I slip on my shoes and open the door.
The rising sun glistens on the morning dew covering the grass.
The pool is empty but clean, and even the tiles look brand new.
He really did make sure the house was still taken care of all these years.
I take a few moments to walk around the property. A few people are out on their morning walks and wave as they pass. I forgot how nice the neighborhood we lived in was.
My heart beats faster as I slip the key into the lock. I close my eyes as the click signifies the door is unlocked. My fingers tremble as they clutch onto the doorknob.
One…Two…Three…
The door opens. The hinges creak as it swings. It’s like I’m stepping into one of the many dreams I’ve had of my childhood. Broken fragments of memories colliding together before spinning out of control and ending in the nightmare from the morning of the crash. It’s the same every single time.
My phone rings, grounding me to reality. It’s Jaz.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Mi…Mina,” she sobs. “Declan’s dead.”
I don’t say a word. I don’t know what to say. Do I tell her the truth?
“They’re saying it’s a gang from Nuevo Leon.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Rodger said it. He was the one who found the guys…I’m so sorry, Tony’s dead too. And Mac.”
“Why does Rodger think it was a gang from Mexico?”
I know Declan was involved with drugs and weapons trades, but Mexico?
“Apparently, that’s where Rodger’s been.
He was following up on a lead about Jocko.
One of his sources said that a gang member was bragging about how they were going to go after Declan again.
That they ‘sent him a warning’ to back the fuck off of their territory, but he didn’t listen. They were the ones who killed Jocko.”
“Oh my God.” I quickly sit down on the couch. The cushions are stiff from the lack of life in this home for twenty years.
“I know. I can’t believe it.”
“What are the cop’s saying?”
“Cops? You know as well as I do that the guys don’t deal with the cops. Declan, Tony, and Mac are already buried next to Jocko at the old farm. Rodger’s getting the rest of the guys together to go after the gang.”
“What about the club?”
“Cash is taking over.”
“Cash? As in Cassius London?”
“Yup. He’s Jocko's nephew after all.”
The line is quiet for a moment. Neither of us knows what to say.
“I think I’m going to leave sooner than seven weeks…”
“Will you at least stay for the memorial? Rodger said it’ll be on Wednesday and wants everyone there. Please.”
“I’ll be there.”
“I’m going to miss the fuck out of you, you know.”
“I’m gonna miss you too. You know, the invitation’s still open to come with me. I could always use a roommate.”
“Hmm…Maybe. I wanna see how Cash is as a boss. He is one fine mother fucker.”
“Jaz, isn’t he like borderline mob?”
“Nope. He was the cleanest one in the family. Jocko was never into that shit either…It was mainly Declan. We might actually have a respected establishment again.” She laughs, and I can’t help rolling my eyes.
“Text me the details for the memorial. I’ll be by within the next couple of days to clean out my locker.”
“You’re not coming back to work at all?”
“No…I have some things I need to take care of before I move.”
I glance around the living room. Photos are hung on the wall and set across the fireplace mantle.
A crocheted blanket is folded on an old rocking chair in the corner.
Memories come flooding back. Memories of being curled up in my father's arms during thunderstorms while he rocked us back and forth until I fell back asleep.
Being back is making me remember a lot. More than I ever have before.
“Mina?”
“Sorry. Yeah?”
“I just said to take care of yourself. And let me know if you need anything.”
“I will. Love ya.”
“Love ya, too.”
The line clicks, and I clutch my phone to my chest.
Declan’s gone. They think it was the gang who killed Jocko. No one will ever know what actually happened. Fuck. If Declan had waited just a few more days, maybe Rodger would have gotten back with the news about Jocko’s real killer. None of yesterday would have happened.
I leave my cell resting on the couch as I make my way through my childhood home. Everything about this place feels familiar, yet foreign. It’s like waking up in a room you’ve only seen in your dreams. It blurs reality and makes you question what’s real.
I push open the door at the end of the hall. The door to my parents’ room. My mother’s pearl hair pins still lie on her vanity. I touch the ornate handle of my mother's brush. Her bright, blonde strands are still woven into the bristles. It’s like they’re still here.
My father's nightstand still has a book resting on top. I pick it up, and another photo falls out. It’s of my father and mother on their wedding day. And as always, the man beside my father is Myles.
My throat tenses as I run my thumb over the photo. I trace the outline of his strong jaw. His dark eyes were just as hauntingly beautiful back then. I miss him so much already.
Why do I feel this way? After everything that happened and the truth that finally came out…Why?
“Because you love him…”
I scoff at my inner voice. Love? I barely know him…
I look at the photo again, and my heartbeat flutters.
It’s true…I love him.