Page 44 of Secondhand Smoke
He nodded.
The next thing Nell knew, he was putting his arms around her, lifting her up onto unsteady feet. She was surprised by how easily he handled her, then she remembered the night she’d fallen asleep in at his place and somehow woken up in his bed. She’d thought it would be amazing if he had managed to lift her, given his slender frame, but now she thought it was possible.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said once she was back on her feet.
“No, I need to ride my bike.”
“But—”
“I can’t,” she said, her voice rising with finality. “Ican’t.”
His eyes flickered back and forth between hers like he couldn’t understand. And how could he? Her own parents couldn’t understand.
Despite that, he nodded and tucked her into his side as he led her out the empty room, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Then we’ll walk.”
16 - Barrett
Barrett never understood art—the visual kind—but Nell was the most incredible portrait. Those elegant, thin lines on her face that made his heart race became gut-wrenching when her eyes were rimmed with red. In a matter of minutes, she had lost that golden light she got when she was inhibited and became a shadow.
And he still didn’t understand it.
The more human she appeared to him, the more it devastated the shield around his heart.
He fought the urge to reach out and stroke her face by clenching his fists hard around the bike handles as they walked in the warm night. Unlike the other night, they were silent.
Several times, he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but he had a habit of saying the wrong thing without realizing it, so he snapped it shut and kept the questions to himself.
“Sam’s brother was there,” she answered his thoughts, so quiet that he thought his mind had made it up. “I haven’t seen him since the funeral.”
He nodded slowly, letting the admission settle over them in the darkness. “Why didn’t you talk to him?”
She laughed, short and humorless, and Barrett realized he’d said the wrong thing again, despite doing his best not to.
“We aren’t exactly on good terms.”
Barrett studied her with a tilted head. Trying to read her mind was useless. She was a mirror shattered in a million shards, and being able to find each one was near impossible.
“Her funeral was the only one I went to.” Her voice cracked, turning high and ragged.
Barrett’s breath was knocked from him.
He’d heard about that. Right after their deaths, their names were sprinkled in conversations throughout the entire town, including the music shop.
He wasn’t necessarily the type to care much about local gossip, but this was local gossip about Janelle Duncan. Plus, it was the juiciest, most tragic gossip the town had ever seen.
He’d heard some woman whisper to the other while flicking through records: “. . .killed them and didn’t bother showing up to their funerals. Can you even believe it?”
That was where the darker rumors started. Many people thought Nell not showing up was an admission of guilt or, even worse, an inconvenience to her.
But here Nell was, saying shehadgone to a funeral. One of them.
“I walked in those doors that day. I’d just gotten out of the hospital and I could barely walk, but Ineededto be there. Sam’s was the very first,” she said. “I didn’t even get into the viewing area before Jake showed up. They’re twins, you know? Look almost exactly the same. He saw me before anyone else, and he didn’t even let me say anything. He just grabbed my arm and dragged me out.”
Barrett couldn’t look away.
Her blue eyes had turned gray, her skin a shade paler. “He was the first person I ever heard call me the things people do. I didn’t even know why, at first. I’ve been friends with Sam since kindergarten, so Jake was always there too. I loved him. He was like a brother to me. I couldn’t process what was happening thatday or why he looked at me like that, but I left. By the time the other funerals came around . . . With the things people were saying and the things he’d said, I couldn’t bring myself to show up.” She took a deep, shaking breath. “He was there, at The Pour House, sitting right behind us. I could tell he was angry, and . . . I get it. It’s not fair that I can have fun with you guys and live while Sam doesn’t. He told me that day that I should be dead too.” She paused, taking a deep inhale before she said, “Sometimes, I think he was right.” Tears poured silently down her face, glittering in the darkness.
Barrett bit his tongue, hoping it would help him come up with something to say, but it was pointless. He was lost for words.
