5. Aeris
Aeris
“I’ve already told you,” Mira sighed, rolling her eyes as she lounged back against her mountain of pillows, lazily scrolling through her phone. “Fletcher isn’t my boyfriend.”
“But he’s a boy … and he’s your friend,” I said, completely confused, sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed.
From her own cross-legged position on the floor, Brooke burst out laughing. “Ooh, Dad’s going to freak when he finds out,” she said before returning her focus to painting Darya’s toenails a glittery pink.
Darya frowned. “Fletcher’s still sneaking in through your window? How has he not been caught yet?”
“Because Dad’s never here,” Mira answered, tossing her phone aside. She reached up and absentmindedly rolled the pearl pendant at her throat between her fingers. “It’s always some new nanny who doesn’t care what we do as long as we don’t set the house on fire.”
I tilted my head. “So … if he’s not your boyfriend, why does he keep coming over at night?”
Mira looked at me, her expression softening the way it always did when she thought I was being adorable. “Because he’s my best friend, kid.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not a kid. I’m only two years younger than you.”
“Yeah, but you’re the baby,” Brooke chuckled.
“Unless Dad gets another woman pregnant, that is,” Darya added with a roll of her eyes.
Mira grinned, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be the kid, Aeris. Even when we’re all eighty.”
I sank beneath the water and let the heat seep into my bones, the bubbles closing over me as I held my breath. Grief was an individual experience, and everyone reacted differently to death. Most would be devastated, and I knew my staff were after losing one of our own.
I was just angry, helpless to the knowledge that Olivia was alone in her final moments, and confused that, knowing she was in trouble, she hadn’t asked for help to prevent it.
When I finally resurfaced, the water sloshed but didn’t spill over the edge of the tub. Wiping the bubbles from my face I reached for my tablet, propping it on the bamboo caddy.
My eldest sister’s tired face appeared after only a second, and immediately that anger eased.
“You been holding your breath again?” she asked with a frown.
“It’s called meditating.”
“Underwater?” She pursed her lips. “I find drowning myself the opposite of relaxing.”
“It’s not drowning,” I laughed, knowing this had been an ongoing argument for over two decades. “Anyway, how are my gorgeous nephews?”
“Asleep,” Brooke said, her own eyes barely awake. “But you knew that, considering it’s like three in the morning.”
“I knew you’d be up with the baby,” I said, brushing my fingers through the mountain of bubbles. “Speaking of, show me.”
Brooke sighed, the camera panning down to find my newest nephew snoozing happily on his mama. “You want to tell me why you’re up so late?” she asked, her face reappearing. “Dad’s concerned.”
“Dad’s always concerned.” Steam curled around me, yet I couldn’t shake the chill.
“You really should talk to him,” Brooke said, ever the peace maker. “Not for him. For yourself.”
“I have nothing to say to him.” Which was the truth. Tristan Murdock was nothing but a stranger to me. He may have given me half my DNA, but I didn’t owe him anything. Not after everything he’d done.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and I considered if maybe I should have called Darya instead. She never asked me difficult questions.
“Fine, just miss you and the kids.”
Brooke smiled, but there was tension that told me she wasn’t buying it. She’d been trying for years to get me to reconcile with our father, though I never understood why. He’d cut her and Darya off just as completely as he’d cut me off whenever they talked back.
Just because she chose to keep the relationship open didn’t mean I had to.
“You should visit soon. Oscar says he misses his favourite aunt.”
“Have you told Darya that?” I laughed, knowing my eldest nephew would have said exactly the same thing to my other sister. “I’ll be over soon, I promise.”
“Soon is too long.”
“So dramatic,” I sighed, but Brooke had already returned her attention to her cooing baby.
The sight of it made my chest ache. I missed my sisters, but our lives were vastly different.
Brooke and Darya hadn’t lived with us growing up, both having different mothers and a much more stable home. Mine had been anything but.
They weren’t as close to Mira as I was, probably because Mira and I shared both parents, but they both mourned her just as hard. They grieved, accepted, and moved on. I never did.
“Are you coming to his party?” Brooke continued. “You know how upset he …”
A noise, like footsteps on the landing. My sister’s voice faded as I concentrated, turning my head towards the door. I couldn’t be sure whether a shadow passed beneath it or my eyes were playing tricks on me.
“Brooke, I’m sorry, but I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“At a reasonable hour, please.”
Blowing her a kiss I cut our connection, my ears straining as I stepped out of the bath.
Water droplets dripped down my body, my footsteps silent as I reached for a silk robe.
The bathroom door opened without a sound, darkness greeting me as I scanned the landing.
The carpet muted my steps as I crossed to my room, opening the bedside drawer for my hair clip, flipping it open to reveal the concealed blade.
The upstairs turned up empty, but my heart still raced as I took the stairs one step at a time.
Everything was silent but for the gentle hum of the fridge.
Yet I couldn’t relax, not until I checked every single room.
My lungs froze when cool air swept over my ankles and, turning, I found my back door open just a sliver.
I tentatively walked over and closed it, scanning the darkness of the garden as I did, trying to remember whether I’d even opened it earlier or not.
But surely if I had, the alarm would have gone off? Letting me know it was still open?
Keeping the knife in my hand, I turned down the hallway to my front door, finding the alarm not even set. Frustrated with myself, I went to punch in the code when a sound came from the door.
Knock, knock.
I cursed as I peered through the window, quickly flipping the blade back into the hair clip before opening the door.
Detective Kane pushed through without invitation, and I glared at him.
“It’s a bit late, isn’t it, Detective?”
Kane took an aggressive step towards me, but I refused to retreat. In doing so I would only make the situation worse, as if giving him permission to push me around. “Here,” he grunted, shoving a brown A4 envelope against my chest. “That’s everything.”
I gripped the envelope tightly. “And you couldn’t have delivered this at a more convenient time?”
Kane’s grin was uncomfortable. It wasn’t lecherous, exactly. It was more … predatory. His gaze lingered anyway, tracing the damp strands of my hair as they curled against my shoulders before drifting to the silk dressing gown clinging to my damp skin.
Whether his general animosity was because I was a woman or from his failure to arrest me, I didn’t know.
“I expect you’re taking Olivia’s case seriously,” I said, keeping my tone even.
Kane exhaled slowly. “As seriously as any case involving a sex worker.”
“I don’t want it disappearing between the cracks because of your prejudice,” I said. “She deserves to be heard, regardless of the accusation.”
“Please … Olivia was just a stray—”
“A stray?” I echoed, my hand curling into a fist to keep myself from striking him. “You have no idea who she was.”
Kane stepped closer, another attempt at intimidation. It almost made me smile considering I’d faced far worse monsters than him and survived.
“Olivia was only twenty-five,” I said. “She loved to dance. She was studying science, halfway through a Master’s. She fostered animals … cats, dogs, and bloody rodents.”
“Irrelevant.”
“She was gentle. Kind. She was a person, not a statistic you can dismiss because it’s convenient and fits your narrative.”
Kane’s lip curled. “She was just another whore,” he growled. “And she got what she deserved, just like you will one day.”
I laughed in his face, unable to control it. “I appreciate you being so helpful with this.” I gestured to the envelope, knowing he hadn’t had much of a choice unless he wanted me to destroy his life. “Now, if you’d please leave.”
His nostrils flared, rage flashing across his face, but he didn’t argue as he turned and left without another word.
Locking the door behind him, I made sure to set the alarm. Only when the system chimed armed did I allow myself to breathe.