Just a Little Series (Parts 1 - 4) (11 page)

“And then when I turned six, Mom finally sat
me down and revealed the cold, hard truth about my true
identity.”

“That you weren’t really a crime-fighting
turtle?”

“Exactly.” He nodded as if the childhood
memory still haunted him, but the smirk on his face was clue enough
that he was only telling his stories to keep my mind free and clear
of Luke.

“Thank you,” I wrapped my jacket a little
tighter, “but you don’t have to keep fabricating these stories for
my
benefit.”

“Fabricating?
Ha
!” he struck a karate
pose right there on the sidewalk. “My crime-fighting toddler years
are as real as the ground we walk on, Julie Little.”

I smiled as he dropped his pose and
continued to walk along my side.

“So,” he said, watching me coolly with a
boyish smirk, “when are you going to let me ask you out again?”

“Derek,” I threw him a sideways glance. “You
know I’m not—”

“Right, right,” he bit his lip and shrugged,
“You can’t blame a guy for trying; I should’ve known you’d need
more time.”

“I’m okay,” I said, and I think that’s all
he’d really wanted to hear. I was still fresh off of my argument
with Luke, and Derek was much smarter than to think that I’d accept
any kind of proposal—no matter how big or little, after everything
that had happened the day before. “I’m just still a little shaken
by everything. But I’ll be fine. It was just a dumb crush.”

“Maybe,” he said, “but maybe not.” He
wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pressed a quick kiss to the
side of my head.

As we continued to walk, his arm never left
my body. It eventually moved from my shoulder to my waist, and he
pulled me closer as we walked along the sidewalk in the cool,
autumn breeze.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on his
shoulder, remembering the day that Luke had taken me by the hand
and led me through the woods to an open field. The way his touch
burned my hand with a fiery sensation ignited a feeling deep inside
of me, one that still coursed through my veins every time I saw his
beautiful face. And then there was the sincerity in his beautiful
brown eyes on Saturday when he softly wiped away the make-up that
had stained my face.

And though I struggled to admit it out loud,
I missed Luke, even the grumpy, arrogant, stubborn Luke. Even the
Luke who’d called me
kid
, and continuously treated me like
one. Even the drunken Luke who’d professed his feelings for me.

I didn’t care which Luke I got anymore,
because
any
Luke was better than
no
Luke.

What I felt for him was unconditional. There
was nothing he could say and nothing he could do to change the way
my heart ached for him.

With Derek’s arm around me, and his shoulder
beneath my head, all I could do was wish that when I opened my
eyes, Luke would be there—and everything I’d experienced in the
past twenty-four hours would all just be a dream.

But when I opened my eyes, I was still
walking with Derek.

And in that moment, I knew for sure no one
could ever live up to the way I cared for Luke.

Sunday, September 23 | 9:00 p.m.

“I’m heading out,” Hannah said to her
brother, brushing past me, but not before throwing an evil sneer in
my direction.

I sunk lower into the first cushion on their
couch as Derek told his sister to be back by curfew, which on a
school night was in exactly one hour.

She rolled her eyes and walked out the door,
slamming it hard enough to communicate her dislike for my
friendship with Derek.

“Alright,” he sat on the opposite side of
the couch and stared at his depressing DVD collection, “it looks
like tonight’s flick is either
Ghostbusters
,
Ghostbusters
,
Ghostbusters
, or… yep.
Ghostbusters
.” He turned back, “Any suggestions?”

“Oh gee,” I teased, “and here I was hoping
you’d have Ghostbusters.”

He smiled for a brief moment before getting
up to start the DVD. I tucked my feet up under my legs and sank a
little lower in the cushion. He returned to the other side of the
couch, keeping a reasonable distance, but throwing me an occasional
glance.

Halfway through the flick, Derek suggested a
popcorn break, so we paused the DVD to make our snack. Before we
could retreat to the kitchen, he met my stare and scooted closer on
the couch to take my hands.

“Julie,” he kept his voice low, though I
couldn’t imagine why. There wasn’t another soul around to hear what
he had to say. Still, he seemed serious, so I gave him my full
attention. “There’s something important that I need to tell
you.”

“Okay,” I looked at our cupped hands and
back to him. “what’s up?”

“I want you to know that us moving here to
Oakland had nothing to do with you,” he swallowed hard. His palms
began to sweat, and he closed his eyes to brace himself for my
response.

“Well, obviously,” I squeezed his hands,
“you didn’t know me until you moved in.”

“And that’s why we need to have this
conversation,” he said. “Because I
did
know you in some
sense. But again,” he said, looking as though he truly needed me to
believe what he was saying, “I didn’t move here
because
of
you. Coming here was all Hannah’s idea. I didn’t know you were here
until after the fact, until you stood out there on the driveway and
told me who you were, but Hannah knew, and she wanted to see
you.”

I stared at him open-mouthed, unsure of
whether or not he was waiting on a response.

He took a deep breath and let go of my
hands. “I have a shoebox of things in my room that I think will
help me explain this a little better. Do you mind if I…?”

“No, go,” I urged him to retrieve the box.
If it’d help him communicate whatever it was he needed to say, I
wanted him to have it.

As I sat on the edge of the couch, I racked
my brain for how I could’ve possibly known Derek and Hannah. I
couldn’t remember them from my past, but something about
his
eyes and
her
grin seemed far too familiar.

A tap on the outside window interrupted my
thoughts. I glanced up to see Luke standing in the shadows on the
other side of the glass. Perched up on the ledge of the porch, he
motioned for me to come closer. I shooed him away and turned back
to my thoughts.

He tapped on the window again, this time
harder. I finally got up, went across the room, and opened the
window.

“Go away.”

“Listen to me, Julie,” Luke said, hastily,
“you need to get out of there.
Now
.”

“Go away, Luke. I’m done with this.”

“Dammit, Julie, listen to me.”

“I’m fine.”

“I just back from the West Bridge PD,” Luke
said, irritated that I wouldn’t hear him out. “They’re Miltons.
Derek and Hannah
Milton
.”

“Derek and Hannah
Jones
,” I corrected
him.

“They changed their last name and left town
after the trial to ward off the press. It’s like they vanished off
the map until now,” he leaned closer to the window screen so I’d
hear the enunciation of each syllable. “Derek and Hannah Milton.
Son and daughter of Conan Milton—”

“The man who murdered your parents,” Derek
said behind me, setting a shoebox down on the end of the couch.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, Julie.”

“Back up,” Luke interrupted, pressing his
finger against the screen.

“Julie, please,” Derek begged, stealing my
attention from Luke, “I don’t mean any harm. Hannah just wanted to
see it for herself. She wanted to see that you’d really moved here
to Oakland and started over. She’s still having a lot of trouble
coming to terms with what our father has done. She’s struggling;
she needed this. She needed closure.”

I backed against the window and faced Derek,
and the realization of their likeness hit me full-force. His blue
eyes—he had his father’s same, round, ocean-blue eyes. And Hannah
bore that same nasty smirk her father had worn in all the press
photos
and
in the mug shot taken after the murders.

The front door opened and Luke let himself
in, taking an immediate stride across the room to put himself
between me and Derek.

“Derek,” Luke put his hand out to keep him
from taking another step closer,“I’m taking Julie with me, and
you’re going to stay right where you’re at, and you won’t ever come
near her again.”

“Please,” Derek said. He looked past Luke
and leaned to the side to meet my stare. “Julie, I’m sorry. I know
that words can never undo what my father did, but I want you to
know how terribly sorry I am.”

I took a step out from behind Luke, putting
my hand on his arm to let him know I was okay facing Derek on my
own.

“You’ve known,” I started toward him, and my
voice shook. “All of this time, you’ve known who I am, and you
couldn’t find just one second to tell me who
you
are?”

“I wanted to, but—”

“But what?” I asked. “Your father murdered
my parents. He put a gun to their heads, put a bullet through their
skulls, and you think telling me that you’re sorry is going to make
it better?” My eyes filled with tears as I watched Derek drop his
arms. He stood defenseless, hurt and broken down. But no matter how
defeated he seemed, it didn’t change the fact that he’d blatantly
lied to me. “His blood runs through your veins, Derek. His evil
courses through your body, and you expect me to accept your
apology? How do I know I can even trust you? How do I know you
weren’t planning on coming back in here and killing me
yourself?”

“You don’t,” he said, “but you
have
to trust me—”

“I don’t! I
don’t
have to trust
you!”

“Julie,” he begged, “I swear I never wanted
to hurt you.”

“That makes one of us.” Hannah’s voice came
from the back of the room. None of us had heard her come in, and
when I turned to meet her stare, my heart fell to my stomach.

Hannah stood in the doorframe between the
kitchen and living room, her eyes never leaving mine. Her red hair
was mussed and ratted. Her eyes were dark and sunken; she looked
like hell. But as she took a step forward to command the room, she
lifted a handgun in the air and pointed it directly at my face.
Suddenly, that’s all I could really concentrate on.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Sunday, September 23

“Hannah, no!” Derek yelled, “Put the gun
down.”

“Not until she’s dead,” Hannah said, eerily
calm. “Not until I finish what Daddy started.”

“Hannah!” her brother said. “Don’t talk like
that.”

Luke pulled me back slowly, shielding my
body with his. He took a step backward, lightly forcing me against
the far wall and covering me completely from Hannah’s aim.

My body shivered behind his, and I could
feel him gently pressing himself against me to assure me, as much
as he could, that I was safe. He reached back and took my hand,
squeezing my fingers for a brief moment before letting go.

“Hannah,” Luke stepped forward an inch.

“Stay back,” she yelled, waving the gun
higher.

“Hannah,” Luke continued, and he was just as
calm as she’d been when she walked in a few minutes earlier,“you
don’t want to do this, right? Put the gun down.”

“Listen to him,” Derek pleaded with his
sister.

“Stop it!” she yelled at both of the men,
taking a step to the side to get a better view of me. “You,” she
said, still aiming the gun, “step out here. I want to see your face
when I kill you.”

“Hannah,” Derek tried to reason with his
sister, “she’s an innocent girl. She’s a victim, just like us. She
had nothing to do with what happened.”

“She’s his daughter,” she said, tears
streaming down her face. “I was born without my father because of
what
he
did.”

“He was doing his job,” Derek argued. “You
know Dad was messed up, Hann—”

“I had to live my entire life with my father
behind bars,” she said, meeting my stare. “So
you’re
not a
victim.
You had your dad
.”

“Hannah,” I stepped out from behind Luke. He
reached out to pull me back, but I stopped his hand. “This is my
fight.”

“You hate your dad for not protecting your
mother,” Luke whispered. “I’m not going to let you hate me for not
protecting you.”

“I’m okay,” I said, and I turned back to her
immediately.

Even with the weapon still aimed in my
direction, I was surprisingly composed. I saw the pain in her eyes,
but pain didn’t equate to violence. Part of me had trouble
believing Hannah had it in her to harm another human being. But
when I considered that Dad had thought the same thing about her
father, I felt my heart sink a little.

“Hannah, please put the gun down. We have
much more in common than you might actually believe, and I really
think it would do us some good to talk this out.”

“Talk this out? I don’t want to
talk this
out
with you,” she said. “I want to
kill
you.”

“What good would that do?” I asked. “What
problem would that solve? My dad arrested your father, your dad
killed my parents, and now the playing field is level, okay? Both
of our parents are at fault for what we’ve lost, so why carry this
any further? You can’t let your life be ruled by this, Hannah. You
have to live your life
in spite of
tragedy.”

A tear slid down her face, and as she
lowered the gun, I took a step forward to continue. “Your dad
wouldn’t want you to make the same mistakes he made.”

“Don’t—tell—me—what—my—dad—would—want,” she
screamed, raising the gun again. “He’d want me to kill you.”

The room fell silent, and I felt Luke’s hand
grasp my wrist. He stepped behind me, and his body ran along the
backside of mine: strong, firm, and completely unwavering. If he
had lost his cool, there was no indication.