Page 94 of Between Now and Forever

I turn the phone on and breathe a sigh of relief when I see Serene has downloaded apps onto it already. I log into my Instagram account with shaking hands and go to my messenger and type in Carter’s name. I find his profile right away and send him a message. It’s direct, to the point, and says everything he needs to know. I’ve just pressed the little arrow to send it when the door opens.

Serene’s eyes are wide with shock and her eyes are red with unshed tears. I put the phone into my pocket.

“Come on. I’m so sorry.”

“What?” I ask and rush toward her.

She doesn’t answer and walks faster.

I dash up the stairs after and stop when she’s standing outside my bedroom door.

I walk as silently as I can toward the room and peek around the frame of the door.

My grandmother is sitting on my bed and spread around her are the pictures I’ve been sketching in secret.

The ones of Carter and me. The one where his head is between my legs and one hand is cupping my breast, while the other clutches his head. It’s the one I drew from the memory of the night I spent with him.

My stomach falls like a bird shot out of the sky, fluttering, fast and furious and I’m dizzy with vertigo. I grasp the handle of the door.

Her eyes come to mine and the placid expression in them turns my blood cold.

She beckons me with the crook of a finger.

I shake my head no.

She sighs, rolls her eyes heavenward as if she finds me tedious and then stands. I don’t move as she walks toward me and then moves to stand behind me. I’m aware that she’s lit a fire in the room.

It’s November, but in East Texas, it’s not cold enough to warrant a fire. It can only serve one of two purposes. To light the dark or to burn something. And it’s broad daylight.

Her perfume is cloying and heavy but doesn’t mask the smell of the cigarette she must have smoked very recently. I wonder if she was ever out at all.

“My mission to see you straight.” She says with a kind of serenity that scares me.

“I won’t be with him. I love someone.”

“How tedious you are.” She’s standing so close to me that I can feel her breath on the back of my neck.

I close my eyes and gather my courage.

She traces the edge of her long, light pink fingernail lightly along the curve of my spine and then digs her finger into the small of it. “You are fighting a losing battle. In the end, I will win. Even if I have to break this.”

Her voice is lyrical, but that only heightens the menace in her words.

I swallow hard but don’t dare say a word. I’m in a lot of trouble. And any chance of escape is gone.

She steps back around me and walks to my bed and scoops up the rest of the artwork. The one of Carter and me is on top. She inspects it. Running her fingers over it. Desecrating us with her vindictive touch.

It fills me with a fiery, fierce loathing so hot it burns away my sense of self-preservation.

“Give that to me,” I say and am pleased to hear my voice sound so even.

She doesn’t even look at me.

“Do you know why your mother couldn’t handle our life? It was because she had all of this ungodly art in her. Your father fancied himself a musician once, too. I beat it out of him. I will not let you destroy this family. You are all we have left. This must end.”

And before I can take another breath, she’s moving fast and heading straight for the fireplace. As her intent becomes clear, desperate panic fills me and makes me reckless. I run toward her.

“Tobias. Now.” Her words, spoken to no one again, confuse me and I hesitate.

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