Chapter 18 - Cyrus
CYRUS
Snow dances across the nighttime sky, as beautiful as it is chaotic.
In stark contrast to last night, multiple cheery voices carry outside to the Landrys’ porch.
Through the kitchen window, I count five people sitting around the table, laughing and smiling at each other.
It seems foreign compared to the heavy mood permeating the kitchen a day earlier.
My face presses closer to the glass, eager for a better look.
Their heads turn, exposing their profiles.
I recognize them, more than that—it’s my family.
Aunt Magnolia and my cousin, Roux, sit on either side of Jace.
My jaw falls slack. I blink several times, like the people sitting next to her might suddenly become someone else.
Roux’s auburn hair glows like coal embers, even under the harsh fluorescent lights.
Jealousy ignites my bloodstream as she lifts Jace’s hand and holds it in hers.
It’s cruel to witness someone touch Jace with the same tenderness I yearn to.
Roux tosses her hair over her shoulder, completely unaware of just how lucky she is.
She doesn’t know I’d do anything to be in her place.
How could she know when, like Jace, she probably thinks I’ve just disappeared—abandoning everyone I care for?
Before I died, I hadn’t seen Magnolia in years.
She moved away from Devil’s Nest at the same time we did, taking Roux.
..but completely abandoning her niece. Mattie had to pick up the pieces of our broken family alone.
There’s a pang of guilt inside me, because the truth is, I did too.
I chose the path of least resistance, staying up here and trying to keep my pops from drowning himself in a bottle of whiskey.
My aunt should have done more—could have done more.
Instead, she wrote off anyone with the last name Gibson, especially after the deaths of her sisters.
Mattie’s mama, Pearl, and my own may have died years apart, but a Gibson brother was behind both of them—never proven, of course.
I’m so lost in my resentment, I almost miss Roux and Jace leaving the kitchen.
Roux leads her by the hand, smiling over her shoulder as they turn the corner to go down the hall.
My hands press against the window. For a moment, I fear they might go straight through the glass.
I lean my head between my hands, sighing, but no foggy breath appears.
They’re probably going back to Jace’s room, so I leap from the porch to head around the house.
The back door is slightly ajar, so I take the opportunity to slip through the opening.
It gently squeaks as I move by. The three people remaining around the table briefly turn their heads in my direction.
“Must be the wind,” Jace’s mom laughs nervously.
Her house shoes clack against the wooden floor, moving to close the door.
She shivers, pulling her sweater tighter, as I glide past her into the hallway.
I’m quick enough to sneak in right as the door to Jace’s room closes behind us.
The light on her nightstand is the only illumination in the room.
I stick to the shadows it casts, taking my usual spot in her closet.
The longer I observe, the more my curiosity heightens.
I’ve seen the girls together before, but I’ve never seen them like this.
Roux appears to be unlocking a new side of Jace, one that’s been absent since she’s been back home.
This Jace laughs and makes jokes. Her eyes light up when she talks, even when what she’s saying is painful.
I pretend it’s me she’s looking at, full of life even when the topic of conversation turns dark.
Would she have looked at me this way if I’d only told her the truth?
“And Cyrus? I remember y’all being close when we were kids.
” Jace asks, eyes wide, her lips parting.
The sound of my name coming from those lips makes my heart swell.
I long for her to say it again while I roam my hands over her skin, quietly moaning it against my neck as I explore every inch of her.
Pressure builds inside me, a sudden tension straining against my chest and ready to snap, my cock stiffening.
I’m simultaneously embarrassed and surprised by the way my ghost body responds.
This is the first time I’ve been aroused since my body changed over.
Leave it to Jace to raise the dead. At least she can’t see me sitting here, watching her with a fucking hard-on like a creep.
I try to push away the thoughts of her skin against mine, but I groan as both girls rush for a single pillow on the bed.
I’m about to live out a silly teenage fantasy, watching the girl I love pillow fight, making me feel even worse about being a phantom voyeur inside the closet.
I close my eyes, waiting for the sounds of them squealing to cease.
All of us jump when a knock raps against the bedroom door.
Their mamas pop their heads in, mischievous smiles plastered on their faces.
I’m annoyed to learn Roux will be sleeping over, wrecking my plan to have Jace to myself tonight—I wish I could say this is the first time that’s happened.
I frown, remembering Roux barging into my room and interrupting our first kiss.
My last glimmer of hope Roux might sleep in the guest room is extinguished as the girls change into pajamas and crawl into bed together.
They lie side by side, all interconnected limbs, whispering and giggling until they both fall asleep.
I couldn’t make out much of their whispering, but there was a heaviness before fading into sharing more memories.
Once their breathing becomes rhythmic and slow, their bodies no longer stirring to get comfortable, I tread lightly across the room.
Opening the door just enough to fit through, I go back down the hall.
Kate and Magnolia are sitting in the living room, both leaning into the couch with an empty bottle of wine on the table between them.
Their voices are hushed but still carry towards me with clarity.
“She hasn’t been the same since,” Kate sighs, glancing at the empty bottle then sighing again. “Leroy gave her a hard time last night, and she just snapped.”
Magnolia nods thoughtfully, reaching a hand out to stroke Kate’s hair away from her face. Her eyes soften, and so does her voice. “She just needs time.”
“I know, Mags, but it’s already been two years.
Leroy knows more than he’s lettin’ on. I know he does, but he doesn’t tell me anythin’.
” Kate rubs her palms over her face before placing them in her lap, revealing watery eyes.
“I admit, sometimes, I just don’t want to know—not that it’s worked out well for me before.
The guilt from not knowin’ is just as awful. ”
“I was relieved when I found out Rustin was dead,” Magnolia confesses, her eyes looking past Kate, as if she’s trapped in a memory.
“The guilt I felt when I realized I wasn’t even a little sad was crushing.
He was a terrible person, a bad husband too, but he was Roux’s daddy.
There was a sense of safety, though, with him gone, knowing he can never hurt us again. In time, Jace will feel the same.”
My teeth clack, jaw clenching. Magnolia implying I would ever hurt Jace is infuriating, but in a way, she’s right, because I have hurt her, haven’t I?
I left her in this world alone, without a single explanation as to why.
She can barely say my name without shaking, whining like it’s a knife she’s pulling from her throat.
“Cyrus wasn’t his daddy, Mags. Mattie wasn’t hers either,” Kate scolds.
“I think if anyone’s even a little complicit in our husbands’ crimes, it’d be us before the kids.
” Tears spill from Kate’s eyes. Magnolia leans over to wipe them away, cupping her cheek for a moment before settling back in her seat.
“They were all just kids when everything happened.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Magnolia nods. She looks down the dark hallway I’m hiding in, her eyes seeming to pin me in place. “But I still think Jace is better off. She’s twenty-eight now, right?”
Kate’s brow bunches together, snapping her head toward Magnolia. “She is,” she confirms, “but why do you ask?”
“Oh,” Magnolia says softly, her voice going solemn and low. “Just time passin’ so quickly is all. I couldn’t remember.”
Twenty-eight. The paper I hid under Jace’s bed with our pictures taped onto it—it had our ages, the dates we died. Mattie and I were both twenty-eight, like Jace is now.
Kate straightens, sniffling and regaining her composure. “Thank you for bringing Roux over tonight. Jace could really use a friend right now.”
There’s movement, a quiet shuffling behind me. I press my back against the wall, disappearing into the shadows as Roux tip-toes past me. Her body is comically hunched, arms against her chest like she’s a sneaky cartoon character, as she slips toward the living room.
“You’re still awake!” Magnolia exclaims, noticing her daughter.
“I couldn’t sleep.” Roux yawns, walking over to curl up next to her mama on the couch.
My eyebrows lift, and I turn to look back towards the way she came.
A devious grin creeps across my face. If Roux’s out here, then Jace is alone.
Leaving the three women to chat freely without my eavesdropping, I race back to her room.
Once inside, I pause for a moment, watching the cyclic rise and fall of Jace’s chest. A slight grin pulls at the corner of her mouth.
Fast asleep, Jace looks more peaceful than she did last night.
If I pressed my ear to her chest, I’d find the steady beating of her heart.
A deep ache fills me, admiring each little sign of life, ones I know I’ll never fully experience again.
Not wanting to wake her just yet, I take my time, easing my way into her bed.
The mattress doesn’t compress as I lie down like I’m floating just above it. Gradually, I move closer to her.
Jace’s eyes flutter open as I curl my body into hers. Those honey-colored circles of emotion find mine, full of a longing I didn’t expect. “It’s you,” she whispers, reaching out to touch my face.
Her fingertips brush my cheek, static tingling between her hand and my skin.
The feeling explodes into a thousand tiny jolts of electricity, my body becoming live wires as her fingers break through my spectral form.
Her hand snaps back, like I’ve shocked her—and maybe I have.
The intensity of the breech of my body still sizzles inside me.
“Can I touch you?” I ask hesitantly, locking my gaze onto her.
She nods, whimpering a soft confirmation as she draws her lower lip between her teeth.
Without taking my eyes off her, I lift a trembling hand towards her face, lightly brushing it against her cheek.
Jace shivers under my touch but doesn’t pull away.
She leans into it, and I have to pull back slightly to keep from moving through her.
“It tickles,” she giggles softly, closing her eyes. She mewls as my hand finds its way down her neck and over her bare shoulder. “Am I dreaming again?”
“Or I am,” I hum, continuing my gentle stroke down her arm to where it rests on her hip. “Let me haunt you, little doe.”
She rocks her body forward, silently urging me to continue my exploration of her sensitive skin.
My cock twitches, straining against the ghostly fabric of my jeans.
My palm runs down the crease where her legs fold into her center, longing to feel the warmth between her thighs.
A moan escapes my throat, imagining her wetness coating my palm as I slide between her legs.
The thin fabric of her sleep shorts tingles against my skin as I press into it, and Jace gasps.
“Fuck, I’ve got to be dreaming,” she whines between hitched breaths. Her hips roll into me, begging for more friction. “Please, it’s been so long.”
“What does it feel like?” I ask, cupping three fingers together and curving them to the delicate contour of her body. My hand moves in slow circles, gradually building momentum as the pitch of her breathing increases.
“Like falling asleep,” she whispers, leaning her head back and exposing her neck.
My fingers move faster. Her pulse quickens, beating wildly in the hollow of her throat.
I lean closer, tracing my tongue along her collarbone, causing her to cry out.
“Fuck!” she squeals, bucking into me. “It feels like the little electric zaps that crackle through your body to keep you awake. Only I want to keep dreaming.”
She manages to get all her words out before she slips under the wave of euphoria washing over her body.
Biting her lip to muffle her moans, she rides through the lingering shockwaves of her release.
Jace’s hand reaches for me, but it falls straight through my body.
Her lips curve into a frown, knitting her eyebrows together.
“What a weird fucking dream,” she murmurs, eyelids growing heavy again.
I brush her bangs back to press my lips to her forehead.
She’s already asleep when I pull back to slide out of the bed.
I wish I could stay, be here when she wakes, convincing her this was more than a dream.
Roux will eventually come back to bed, though, and this illusion of intimacy between us will shatter.
As I sneak out of her room, I turn back to take a long last look at her. Jace’s face is relaxed, the hint of a smile still painted there as she floats away somewhere in her dreams. “Goodnight, my little doe,” I whisper, drifting into the dark hall.