The Spider & the Storm

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CONNECTICUT, PRESENT DAY

Salem's history had always called to my dark and macabre heart, a place where the misunderstood had once been exiled and punished, only to now be accepted and celebrated. And I couldn't say for sure that there'd ever been magic in this world, but Salem had certainly felt magical to me then. It still did, and it was the only place I could ever envision myself calling home.

But there was a special kind of magic in the air that lay over River Canyon, Connecticut, too. I'd felt it the moment I stepped out of Stormy's car to look up at a cloudless, bright blue sky, the sun warm against my face. I sucked in a deep breath, cool and crisp, and was surprised to feel the expansion of my heart, thumping steadily with a peculiar sense of new life and contentedness.

I could learn to love this, I'd thought then, and I was still thinking it as we walked down the small town's quaint Main Street.

Strangers to me were all friends with Soldier and Ray, greeting them with warm smiles and friendly waves. They all knew the kids by name, all offering the sense that they looked out for one another like true neighbors should. It was something out of a movie, something I'd once believed to be impossible, but there it was, acted out before me with every shake of the hand and genuine grin.

They were all glad to meet me, and I believed them.

“Any friend of Soldier and Ray is a friend of mine,” many of them had said, and how nice was that?

They didn't treat me with anything but acceptance when I hadn't even found that type of welcome in Witch City, where the misfits and misunderstood were taken in with open arms.

You were different then, I reminded myself . You didn't want to be welcomed. You didn't want to be accepted. You wanted the exile, and they gave it to you. How could you have expected anything more?

I followed our group past picturesque shops and restaurants as my brain worked its way through the past several years while appreciating the life Stormy's sister and brother-in-law had found for themselves in this coastal small town. It was truly amazing when I considered where Soldier had come from. A drug dealer who'd done time after a manslaughter charge? God, the fact that he wasn't living in a run-down shack somewhere, sliding his way back into old habits, was nothing short of a miracle, and I started to think …

Maybe there was room in the universe to grant me one too.

***

“This is where I work,” Soldier announced as we walked into the town's grocery store.

The Fisch Market was larger inside than it appeared to be from its storefront. Light-colored hardwood floors with tall, wooden shelves to match and bright fluorescent lights filled the space. We walked past the line of carts by the door, through an impressive produce section, and toward the back of the store.

Soldier wanted to pick up his paycheck before we headed down to Dick's Diner for dinner. We reached a plain wooden door, and Soldier knocked, only to be answered immediately by a cheerful voice.

“Come in, come in!”

Soldier opened the door to reveal a small office space and greeted the rotund older man behind the desk with a smile. “Hey, Howard. Sorry to bother you.”

“Oh, stop it. You're never a bother to me, and you know it. Here for your check?”

“Yeah.”

“All righty, just give me a second here.” The man stood, and it was then that he seemed to notice that Soldier wasn’t alone. His smile broadened at the sight of our small group, kids included. “Well, this is a surprise! Ray, Noah, Miles! It's nice to see you guys. And it looks like you have company?”

Ray returned the grin. “You remember my sister, Stormy, right? She stayed with us when—”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Howard said, hurrying around the desk as fast as he could to take Stormy's hands in both of his. “It's nice to see you again, Stormy.”

“You too,” she replied, placing her other hand on my arm. “This is my boyfriend, Charlie.”

It was absurd of me to expect that this introduction would go similarly to the way it had with her father. This man wasn't her father. For all I knew, this man meant next to nothing to any of them, outside of him being Soldier's boss. Yet it filled my heart with an unexpected warmth when both of his hands moved from hers to take mine, his grin never faltering.

“Charlie, lovely to meet you. How long are the two of you in town?”

“Until tomorrow night,” I answered, even as my head filled with an abrupt whisper. But you never know, do you?

“Wonderful! I hope you enjoy your stay here. My wife is the mayor, in case these two kids haven't told you yet.” He addressed Soldier and Ray with a wink. “If you need anything at all, just give us a holler.”

I couldn't begin to imagine what we'd need in less than twenty-four hours, but I thanked him graciously anyway.

Then, he turned and hurried to the desk drawer, insisting that he didn't want to keep us longer than necessary. He produced a check and handed it Soldier's way, and the two men briefly talked about the job. Something about a shipment that would need to be accepted and unpacked.

“I'm visiting Uncle Levi tomorrow,” Soldier told Howard. “But I'll be around after, if it can wait.”

Howard nodded. “Oh, that's fine. I can be here to accept the delivery if you don't mind—”

“Do I ever mind?” Soldier asked in a teasing tone.

Howard chuckled and glanced my way. “I have to practically beg this guy to take a day off work.” Then, he clapped his hand against Soldier's arm. “I won't keep you guys. Have a great night, and, Soldier, I'll see you tomorrow.”

We left the store, falling in line once more as we walked to the diner. Stormy chatted with her sister while holding Miles’s hand. Noah talked endlessly to Soldier about one thing or another, and if my mind hadn’t been so focused on something else, I might’ve taken note of how wonderful their relationship seemed to be for a teenage boy and his close-to-middle-aged father.

But instead, I mulled over something Soldier had said back at The Fisch Market.

“I’m visiting Uncle Levi tomorrow.”

His uncle Levi was at Wayward Correctional Facility. If Soldier was going up to see him, that likely meant the visitor center was open, and if it was …

***

That night, after we ate dinner and got back to the house, after we played a board game with Soldier and Ray and retired to their guest room, Stormy and I lay in bed, naked and tangled up in the bliss of having made love for the first time in days. She peppered my throat with a thousand kisses before landing number one thousand and one at the corner of my mouth, her lips spreading in a wide, sated grin.

“God, I will never get tired of fucking you,” she muttered in a dreamlike daze as she lowered her head to my shoulder. “I love that you take my weirdness and just accept it.”

I released a breathless huff. “You’re not weird.”

“Okay, well, most men don’t always like to be dominated. They think it’s emasculating or something.”

“Nah. I like giving you the reins to do whatever you want to me,” I said, one side of my mouth curling upward in a grin, remembering the filthy words she’d said to me. The way I’d become malleable in her hands—as always.

“Don’t you dare come until I tell you to. Do you understand? Say you understand.”

“I understand.”

“Do you feel how wet I am around your cock? Do you feel how tight my pussy is, just for you?”

“Yes.”

“You want to come, don’t you? Is my good boy ready to come?”

“Oh fuck. Oh God, yes.”

“Then, come for me, baby. Come inside me. Feel my pussy milking your cock. Yes, that’s it, good boy. Ahh …”

Stormy huffed a husky laugh that held just the slightest touch of embarrassment, her fingertips tracing a line down my sternum to my navel, then back again. “That’s why I love you. You don’t just humor me; you like it.”

“It’s just one reason why we’re perfect for each other,” I muttered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I just hope your sister didn’t hear.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve had to listen to her and Soldier enough for one lifetime. Payback is a bitch.”

I snorted and tightened my arm around her shoulders, the ghost of insecurity snaking through my nerves. “Okay, but what about the kids? I think I've finally won them over. The last thing I want is—”

Stormy propped herself up on an elbow, her eyes meeting mine in the soft glow cast from an outside lamppost. “Everybody loves you. Don't worry about that.”

My jaw clenched, and the muscle pulsed. “It doesn't take much to turn that around.”

“You would have to do something ridiculously fucked up for my family to not like you. Break my heart, and I can't guarantee I won't send Soldier after you.” She smirked, her eyes twinkling with jest. “Do you plan on breaking my heart, Charlie?”

“I already told Blake I'd hurt myself before I ever hurt you, and I only intend on protecting your heart, not breaking it.”

“Then, I guess my family will love you forever,” she said, her voice quivering with hushed excitement.

“Yeah?” I lifted my hand, brushing a strand of her hair off her forehead. I traced a line through the collection of silver hoops lining the outer edge of her ear. “And what about you? Will you love me forever?”

“Spider,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes. “My soul doesn't know how to not love yours. All I had to do was meet you to know that I had been put into this universe to hold you and protect you and shelter you from every terrible thing that had ever come your way until you were strong enough to face it on your own. And whenever that happens, if ever it does, my soul will stand beside yours, even while the rest of the world has been conditioned to run from us both.”

Spiders and storms. Two of the most common fears, and separately, we were the embodiment of them both. But we'd saved each other, hadn't we? We'd given each other shelter, a place for our hearts to heal and love.

“Fuck,” I uttered breathlessly, staring up into her glittering eyes. “You can't say shit like that without expecting me to propose.”

Stormy's smile wilted from her face to make way for an expression of surprise, as if she hadn't seen that coming. “What?”

“You have no idea how much I cannot wait until the day I make you my wife,” I said, holding her gaze.

“I want that more than anything,” she replied on a held breath, swallowing. “Oh God, is that insane?”

“Maybe, but maybe that's how you know it's real.”

Her laugh was abrupt and nearly maniacal as she thrust her mouth against mine. She pressed her hands to either side of my face as the kiss immediately deepened, tongues gliding and twisting and feeding on the taste of each other. My fingers slid along her jaw, plunging into her hairline and tangling that wild mane of black around my hand, and I forgot all about my concerns of corrupting the kids sleeping on the floor above our heads, only needing her naked body once again over mine.

She straddled my waist, and my hardened length was sheathed in her wet heat in one fluid motion. I swallowed her moan as I fed her mine, never breaking that fevered kiss for a second as she rode me with slow, patient thrusts. God, how I loved her and how our sex could be a frantic, passionate coupling of power and submission in one moment and a lazy display of closeness with no need for anything but skin against skin in the next. How lucky I was to have this, how blessed I'd been in my middle age to have met her.

“I want you to meet my family,” I blurted out, my lips moving against her open mouth.

“Oh, yeah?” she asked breathlessly before sliding her pierced tongue against my throat.

I wasn't sure she'd heard me correctly, so I clarified, “I want you to meet Luke. Tomorrow.”

Her attention was captured as she sat up abruptly, her hands held to my heaving chest. “What?”

I nodded, hardly able to believe it myself as I verbalized what I'd been considering for days. “I want to see him tomorrow, and I want you to come with me.”

Her eyes flooded, and mine followed suit, both from the anticipation of seeing my brother for the first time in five years and the sheer fact that this incredible, amazing woman could care so much about me to know how large of a step this was for me to take.

She clapped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob. Then, she bobbed her head in a frantic nod and whispered from behind her palm, “Okay.”

“Yeah? You'll go?” My heart soared with hope and an uncontainable amount of happiness, so much that I thought it'd explode.

“God, Charlie.” She held my cheeks in her hands, bent over, and kissed me with the gentleness of a spider's legs walking along its intricately spun web. “You didn't need to ask. You already know I will.”

***

Just outside the window, birds chirped from an overhanging tree in the bright November sunshine.

Just outside the bedroom door, young laughter filled the hall, followed by scampering footsteps.

Inside the room, Stormy had woken before me, standing beside the bed and pulling her knit black sweater over her head. She glanced over her shoulder to find my eyes open, watching her, and she smiled.

Yes, everything seemed good, even normal, but the tumultuous feeling that spread from my gut to my lungs to my heart … it was old and familiar, but not something I'd felt quite this strongly in a long, long time.

Eight years. It's been eight years since Luke was arrested.

“Soldier's already up and ready to go,” Stormy said, sitting on the edge of the bed beside me.

She was beaming with happiness and excitement, and somewhere beneath this feeling, I was too. But … something wasn't right. I didn't feel right, and I couldn't help but think I needed to be cautious, wary.

“Okay,” I said, sucking in a deep breath and allowing my lips to curl into a broad grin. “I can't believe we're going to do this.”

“You wanna change your mind?”

No . Yes. I shook my head. “No, I need to do this. I just feel kinda … I don't know … nervous maybe?” Was it nerves though? God, I couldn't tell, and I hated that I couldn't read my own damn mind.

She nodded, a glint of sympathy touching her eyes. “Of course you're nervous. You haven't seen your brother in years, and from what you said, the last time you saw him wasn't a happy memory.”

“No,” I said, fiddling with the blanket's stitched seam while remembering the hurt and heartbreak in Luke's eyes before I'd turned to walk away.

“But you're taking a step toward making it right, and that's so freakin' brave of you. I hope you realize that.”

I guessed I did. It took a coward to run away, but it took a great dose of courage to turn around, and I was trying. I wanted to try. So, despite the unease settling deep in my bones, I got up and got ready to go. And by the time I was dressed, boots on and hair brushed and pulled back in a low ponytail, I had successfully allowed my excitement to overtake that disgusting urge to change my mind.

I was going to see Luke. I was going to see him and hug him and touch his face and probably cry when I did … and I couldn't fucking wait.

Stormy and I burst out of the guest room door, hoping we hadn't missed Soldier. As luck would have it, he was just getting ready to head out the door when he spotted us, dressed and eager to leave.

He lifted his brows curiously. “You guys leaving already?”

Stormy wrapped her arms around one of mine. “Actually, we were hoping—”

“We wanted to get a ride with you to Wayward,” I cut her off, feeling I should be the one to say it, the one to ask. “If you don’t mind.”

Soldier tipped his head, slowly sliding his arms through his jacket sleeves. “Wayward,” he repeated, not quite a question, but not quite understanding.

“Yeah,” I said, already heading to the hooks hanging beside the door, reaching out to grab Stormy's and my jackets. “I wanna see Luke before we head back to Salem. I'm ready. I can't let—”

It was then that I realized Soldier hadn't replied, hadn't acknowledged what I was saying at all. I looked over my shoulder to witness that unease I'd woken with reflected now on Soldier's face. That same discomfort, that look of foreboding and pain, and, God, why the fuck did he have to look at me like that?

And it was the oddest thing because somehow, I knew why he was giving me that look. I just knew with every bit of intuition I'd ever been cursed with. But I didn't want to verbalize it. Didn't want to accept what I now felt deep in my bones, what was now festering with disease in my churning gut, what was now making every bit of sense. Didn't want to speak it aloud, as if that alone would make what was already true the truth.

Soldier opened his mouth, then closed it again, turning his head to fix his gaze on something else. Something other than me. “Charlie,” he said, his voice gruff. “ Fuck , I don’t know—”

“You don’t know what ?” Stormy snapped, her voice tight and angry. “You’re not going to take us? Seriously? After everything ?”

But it wasn’t rejection on his face. It was pain, regret, and a tremendous sadness I had no choice but to feel. He reached up to touch his brow, rubbed his fingers against his forehead, and released a forlorn breath.

My parents' passing. Melanie's departure. Breakup after breakup. Ritchie's murder. Tommy's death.

None of it would hold a candle to the fragile truth making Soldier look like that. Like the weight of a thousand unhappy endings was just sitting precariously on his shoulders, waiting to fall, to crash and burn.

“Charlie,” he whispered, my name passing his lips for the second time. “They didn't tell you. God—”

“They didn't tell him what ?” Stormy shouted, rushing to my defense as I shook my head.

“No,” I commanded, praying that if he never spoke the words, they'd cease to be true. “Please. No.”

Soldier's brows tipped angrily as he ignored my protests, my pleas for him to stop. “Dammit, they didn't tell you ,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He pushed his hair back with a hand. “Fucking hell, Charlie. God …” He released another breath that left his shoulders slumped. “I don't know how to say—”

“Then, don't,” I whispered, but the damage had already been done, hadn't it?

He'd already breathed a life into the queasiness in my gut, put a name to the terrible feeling I'd had for months. But I could've lived with that, could've found a way to tamp it down and carry on the way I'd been for the past five years. Just as long as he kept the words to himself.

But Soldier wouldn't listen. He wouldn't leave it alone. He wouldn't just back down and continue on with his damn day with the same ignorance I needed to keep myself from losing it in his living room.

“He died, Charlie.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from Soldier, the angel of death, the worst one to ever touch my shitty life. My hands rose to my hair; my head shook. Trying to chase those words away before they could take root in my brain and infect every last breathing part of my body.

Stormy gasped. “What do you mean, he died ?” Her voice rose in pitch, full of desperation and despair.

But I couldn't look at her, couldn't face the pain she had no business feeling. Her sister was alive. She was somewhere in this house, playing with her kids.

Luke never had kids.

Luke will never have kids.

My chest constricted, and I fought against the wave of grief trying to barrel me over. No. No, I wouldn't let myself do this. Wouldn't let myself drown in the reality. I could ignore it, and I would've, wouldn't I? If I had never met Stormy, if I had never met him —Soldier—I never would've known.

I never would've known.

Luke is dead.

No. No, you don't know that.

But … I did . I'd known for a while, hadn’t I? I hadn't needed Soldier to verbalize it. I'd known .

Soldier began to speak, his voice laced with torment and the stress of having to bear such horrible news. I guessed nobody wanted to be the guy to tell someone his brother had taken his last breath. But I didn't give a fuck about that. Didn't give a fuck how he felt or what he had to say or how Stormy's soft footsteps had begun to approach or that her fingertips barely grazed my arm.

“No,” I said in a harsh rasp, holding my hands out and stepping out of her reach, bumping into the coats. “Don't—”

“Charlie,” she whispered, pleading, “I'm—”

“N-no. I need … I need to get out of here. I-I need …” The words rushed from my lips as my eyes snapped open, putting an end to what Soldier had tried to say and the comfort Stormy was trying to provide. Trying to put a stop to the tendrils of grief, but they had already begun to wrap themselves around my heart. There wasn't much I could do about that. I knew better.

I hurried toward the door, engulfed by a flood of sunshine shining through the windowpane. My hand touched the doorknob, and I was ready to barrel through and into a world where maybe, maybe, maybe my brother was still alive. But before I could turn the knob and leave, I glanced over my shoulder to find Soldier wearing an expression of sympathy and regret and Stormy wearing one of shock and disbelief and so, so much heartbreak that I couldn't fucking stand to look at her.

Luke is dead. I turned from their eyes and stared at the row of hanging coats, not quite seeing their textures and colors, but instead seeing a discombobulated montage of moments. My hand gripped tightly to the smooth metal doorknob, growing warmer beneath my touch.

How can he be dead?

“But what if we can’t stay together?”

“That’s not going to happen. That won’t ever happen.”

Dead? How the hell can he be dead ?

I shook my head in disbelief, acutely aware of the pain stabbing at the backs of my eyes. The desperation to cry, but the tears wouldn't come. Not yet. I knew they would eventually, but … not yet.

“I don't understand,” I whispered to the coats, then the door, sliding a hand over my face.

No . It had to be a joke. There was no way, no way at all that my resilient older brother was gone . No way at all that I could still remain in this world without him in it. He wasn't allowed to die. He wasn't allowed to leave me without anybody else in this fucking world. He wasn't allowed to disappear before I had the chance to see him again, before I had the chance to apologize for running away and being too much of a coward to fucking talk to him.

“Charlie,” Stormy whispered, but I ignored her as I spun on my heel to face Soldier and moved quickly to stand toe to toe with him.

“Are you sure he's dead?” I demanded to know, looking up into his eyes. And, fuck, there was the tiniest bit of hope alive in my battered heart, holding on to the possibility that he was wrong.

But just like that, Soldier extinguished that tiny flame with a slight nod of his head. “I’m so sorry, man.”

A solid, painful lump rose in my throat as I stared at his face. “You’d better not be fucking with me right now.” The words rushed out of my lips as my finger stabbed at his chest, my voice crackling and breaking beneath the burden of a sorrow so tremendous that I should’ve shattered. “I swear to God, Soldier, you’d better not be—”

“I'm not fucking with you, Charlie,” he said gently, wrapping his hand around mine, lowering my finger from his chest. “I thought you knew. I'm so fucking sorry. I should’ve said something. I just … I—”

“He’s dead ,” I said as an acute awareness of my chest collapsing under that horrific grief overcame me.

My knees shook, but somehow, I remained standing as I squeezed my eyes shut, hearing my brother assure me that nothing, nothing, nothing would tear us apart. Fucking lies .

“I can’t breathe,” I uttered, my voice choked as my hand grasped at my chest. “God … Luke . I can’t fucking breathe.”

Life as I knew it blackened around the edges as a hazy scrapbook of old, worn-out memories played before my eyes. Luke’s voice, his stupid smile, his insistence on getting me Amanda’s number, his obnoxious wink, his relentless teasing, his fist connecting with my jaw, his arms wrapped around me, his begging to give him the damn phone as our parents died, his threats that he’d kill Ritchie if he ever said another thing about me, about me , about me …

He had kept his promise. He had kept his fucking promise. God, why hadn’t I remembered that? Why had I spent so many years angry with him when he’d only kept his goddamn promise? Or was it that he'd kept it that made me so mad? Some promises were meant to be broken, so why couldn't that have been one of them?

He'd be alive.

No, I didn't know that. Nobody could know that. But … I felt it. He'd be alive today had he not defended me, had he not killed Ritchie, had he not been in prison. If he had been with me all this fucking time—where he was meant to be—he would be here .

God, why can't you be here?

Somewhere outside of myself, Soldier grabbed my arms before I could fall. His warbled voice called to Stormy in a commanding tone, saying something about helping him.

God, you were so fucking stupid , I sent out to the universe. You were so fucking stupid—you always were—and now, you’re dead. Now, you’re dead—you’re fucking dead —and where does that leave me, huh? Where does that fucking leave me? I wasn’t supposed to be left alone here. You always knew I hated being alone. You were supposed to take care of me. You were always supposed to be here. You were supposed to be the one watching out for me, the one guiding me through this shitty fucking life, and you went and … what? What the fuck did you do this time, Luke? What the fuck did you do? And why couldn't you have waited to see me before you did it? Why couldn't you have let me say goodbye?

“Hey, Charlie,” Soldier said, his voice breaking through the noise. Soothing yet demanding. “Focus on me, okay? Take a deep breath.”

He ordered Stormy to get a bottle of water from the kitchen as Ray entered the living room, instantly startled and concerned about the scene playing out before her as her husband laid me back on the couch while I struggled to control my seizing lungs.

“What's going on?” she asked before ordering Noah to keep Miles away for a bit. She hurried over to the couch and knelt beside Soldier.

You fucking asshole, Luke. You fucking asshole. You weren’t supposed to do this to me. You weren’t supposed to do any of this to me .

“He’s hyperventilating,” Soldier said. “Charlie, man, come on. Breathe with me, okay? Inhale … exhale …”

I squeezed my eyes shut, seeing Luke's cocky grin and quickly shaking it away. No . I focused on pulling a shaky breath in, another shaky breath out. Slowly, I calmed my lungs, focused on Soldier, and then …

“I will see you again.”

“No, you won't, Charlie.”

“Oh God.” My eyes squeezed shut to the abrupt downpour, a deluge of tears, spilling messily into my hair and ears. “ God .”

I balled up my fists, pressed them to my eyes, and replayed that last day. Over and over and over, if only to ingrain the sound of his voice into my head, knowing that one day, I wouldn't remember it at all.