Page 5 of Brambles and Bellflowers
And nothing would feel right until he was back.
The house felt dark,and a lazy silence rolled through the space. I poked my head into the living room, where a giant fire roared. Brayden and Finn were there, sitting with their noses in their textbooks.
I blinked at Finn—this was possibly the first time I’d witnessed him reading anything besides a laptop screen.
“Bianca?” Brayden looked up from his book, closing it slightly and using his thumb to mark his place. “Is everything all right?”
“Where’s Bryce?” It had been too quiet, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was up to something.
“Bryce?” Brayden raised his eyebrow, and even Finn glanced up from his book. “Why?”
“I want to talk to him.”
Finn frowned. “Do you really?”
“You stay out of this!” I snapped. I’d been avoiding Finn since our last meditation session. I loathed the way my heart began to race while in his presence and how it was becoming more difficult to remember—and latch on to—all the evil things he’d done.
“I don’t have to have a reason,” I told him, ignoring the growing heat in my face.
Finn cocked his head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Don’t fight,” Brayden interrupted, glancing between us. “Bryce is working with Uncle Gregory. He’ll be back tonight.”
Darn. My anger deflated. There was nothing left to do except read or kill things in a shooting game. But I wasn’t in the mood.
“Are you bored?” Finn asked, setting his book aside. “We could—”
“No!” I stepped backward, trying to calm my racing heart. My thoughts scrambled, trying to think of anything other than forced socialization with Finn Abernathy. “I’m going to clean!”
“Clean what?” Brayden asked. “Damen’s greenhouse? It is in bad shape.”
“No,” I replied. “I’m going to clean Miles’s room! He’ll like coming home to a nice, organized space.”
Brayden scoffed out a laugh. “Really?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Finn’s lips pressed in a line. “He’s aboy.” He looked pointedly at Brayden. “You don’t know what kinds of things are in his room.”
“Oh, please.” Brayden waved his hand in the air and leaned back into his seat. “Like Miles has anything remotely terrifying in his room. And she’s right; think about how grateful he’ll be. It will be awesome.”
Finn slumped forward in his seat, bracing his elbows over his knees. “I don’t know if that’s the right word to describe it. He might get angry.”
Whatever Finn thought was a terrible idea was the best idea, in my opinion.
“Okay, I’m doing it.” I turned from them, already planning out the supplies I’d need. Paper towels, glass cleaner, probably bleach, or hospital-grade disinfectant. Honestly, it was the laundry that concerned me the most. The clothes should probably be destroyed, but it would be wasteful. I would try to salvage them first.
“Miles is gettinga chore chart when he gets back,” I muttered, scrubbing a stubborn carpet stain.
I still hadn’t gotten near two dark corners of the room, but I was almost sure something was living there. Rodents, probably.
And what was Miles doing, practically inviting them? Empty soda cans in drawers, produce-filled towels under the bed—things were far worse than I’d imagined.
When we’d slept here together, I thought the room had been relatively in order outside of the laundry mountain. Now I knew the truth.
Miles hid everything instead of putting things in their proper place.
It had taken the entire afternoon, but the laundry was finally piled ready for washing, and trash was sorted for recycling.
But this carpet—inexcusable.
