Hush - Anne Malcom Page 0,29

was, Shelby didn’t quite know how to deal with being around two emotional adults who had loved her, missed her, torn apart the world looking for her . . . and couldn’t keep their hands off her. Orion guessed it was just as strange coming back to two parents who loved you when you’ve forgotten how to love as it was coming back to two dead parents who lost their love long before.

They were raw edges. Everything was harsh and loud and there was too much expected of them. Orion was glad for Shelby’s parents. She’d met them. They were tired, emotional, wearing mismatched clothes and definitely confused, but they hadn’t let go of Shelby the entire time she was in their presence. And they went on and on and on about how thrilled they were, how long they had looked for her, how many nights they’d cried themselves to sleep. Shelby had been alternating between panic and relief. They were like April. Another reminder of who they’d been. Girls who died in a dingy basement. Women who remained as nothing more than shells. The time between an abyss of what ifs and darkness.

April looked from the door to the room. She bent down to her purse, rifling through it. “Okay, parents are asleep. I’m guessing there are one or two things the cops didn’t deem essential for you ladies coming out of a fucking nightmare into another one called reality.”

She pulled out a flask and a joint, holding them up in the air like fucking Lion King. She smirked. “Luckily, I’ve got you bitches.”

Jaclyn suddenly decided she liked April, smiling wide.

Orion frowned. “April—”

“Heck yeah!” Jaclyn interrupted, taking the flask from April and drinking deep and long. Almost immediately, she coughed and spluttered.

“What is that?” she asked, wiping her mouth.

“Fireball,” April replied, grinning.

“Fire what?” Jaclyn asked with a furrowed brow.

Something moved on April’s face, too quick for Orion to comprehend. “Cinnamon whiskey. Drink up. It’s good for ya.”

Jaclyn nodded, going in to drink again.

“Go easy, Jac,” Orion said, stepping forward. “You haven’t had a drink in . . . how long? And your body hasn’t been full of this much food in about the same amount of time. How about you pace yourself?”

Jaclyn rolled her eyes. “It’s two shots, Mom. I think we deserve a little something to take the edge off, considering our . . . situation. Don’t you? Here you are ready to kill a guy and you’re bitching at me about some booze.”

“Kill a guy?” April asked, brows scrunched.

“Jaclyn!” Orion narrowed her eyes. She then looked toward April. “She’s an idiot.”

April took the flask from Jaclyn and offered it to Orion.

Orion considered it for a moment but shook her head. She wasn’t ready to try everything the first night back. Wherever this was, she wanted to process it all with a clear mind.

“And you’re a bitch,” Jaclyn retorted playfully.

“Sounds like us back in the day,” April said, chuckling, but she carried sadness in her features. She eyed Orion for a beat, her gaze soft and full of pity. She kept the flask out in front of her.

Orion didn’t break, waving her off.

April nodded, turned to Shelby.

Shelby eyed the flask, and then took it, surprising everyone in the room.

Orion stepped forward, put a hand up. “Shelby, don’t.”

Jaclyn glared at her. “Orion, you’re not her mother. Shelby can make her own goddamn decisions. She needs to be able to do that. To know how to make up her own mind. To not be told what to do every waking second of her life.”

Orion lifted her brow, though she didn’t disagree. “Says the woman pushing it on her.”

The two women glared at each other for a beat until Shelby lifted the flask to her lips. As soon as she tried to swallow, her face screwed up, eyes bulging, a spray of whiskey spreading over the cheap comforter. She scrambled up and all but sprinted to the bathroom, the sounds of retching reverberating through the room.

Orion glared daggers at Jaclyn, who was merely grinning wickedly, taking her next drink from the flask, a little smoother than last time.

“Welcome to womanhood, Shelby,” Jaclyn said after she swallowed. She looked at Orion, caught her glare. “What?” she asked. “We’ve been deprived of all traditional coming-of-age type things, of everything, and becoming very well acquainted with the toilet bowl and just how terrible whiskey tastes happens to be one. She’ll have to learn what she likes and what she doesn’t.” Jaclyn took another swig,