The Seven 4: Just This Once
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Linda Kage
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Prologue
Parker
September 2014
If I’d learned anything after eight months of silence, it was that words were basically unnecessary.
I hadn’t said a damn thing since being told my parents were dead, and I was still kicking just fine. All my necessities had been met: food, water, shelter, clothing. I had air in my lungs and I was likely going to make it through many more tomorrows.
I just had no desire to talk.
Because I’d also learned that some words carried so much weight that when strategically placed together, you could destroy entire families with them.
Like, I hate you.
Three little words. Eight letters. I’d said them one time. And now I was an orphan.
No one was ever going to make me wield that kind of dangerous power ever again.
A lot of people sure knew how to waste their words, though. They could rattle on aimlessly about nothing. They made words so dry and brittle and incomprehensible that their meanings blurred in my ears until they were nothing more than static.
Take Matt, for example.
“Good morning, Thane. Morning, Parker.”
I’d been focusing on the back of Thane’s shirt as I followed him into the aquarium-decorated meeting room, but I glanced up when I heard my name. Matt, our counselor, sent me a small wave in greeting, to which I shot him a short frown for daring to address me with his words.
I had no patience for Matt. He flung sentences around like Jackson Pollock had colors of paint: just slopped them everywhere, hoping they’d stick in some semblance of order and significance.
Matt sucked with words.
“Hey, Matt,” Thane answered him, however, smiling with his usual chipper enthusiasm, which made me roll my eyes. Thane could get along with anyone, I swear.
Now, Thane…
Thane was one of those people who should talk more. Thane’s words were like teddy bears and security blankets to frightened children. You could take hold of the things he said and wrap them around you when you felt like hell. There was actual warmth and compassion in his words. The world was a better place when Thane planted sentences in it.
“Parker’s still not talking, huh?” Matt asked Thane the obvious.
No, I wanted to smart back. I’m talking perfectly fine. You just can’t see or hear me because I’m practicing my silent ventriloquist act.
Moron.
Of course, I wasn’t talking yet. And I wasn’t going to. Not ever.
As if hearing my thoughts, Thane sent me a warning glance. Because he didn’t need me to say shit to know what I thought about Matt. That’s why Thane was the best friend I’d ever had.
Well, that and the fact that he’d talked his parents into taking in a worthless orphan like me after I’d killed my own mom and dad with my horrid words.
I’d already been spending the night at his house when we’d received the news that my family was gone. So I’d pretty much just stayed on from there, as if it were some kind of extended sleepover, but still… The Eisners could’ve turned me over to the state and let me fall into the foster care system.
Except they hadn’t. All because Thane and his precious words had convinced them to keep me.
He was my hero.
Turning back to the counselor, he told Matt, “No, sir. He hasn’t said anything yet. But he will soon. I can feel it.”
I scoffed.
Because whatever.
Not even Thane was going to coax another word from my mouth. And Thane was pretty much the only person who could get me to do anything, like convince me to attend grief counseling and come to these dumb meetings every week in the first place.
Not that I was ever going to actually participate, but I was here. For Thane.
I went directly to the chair I’d claimed as mine and slumped down moodily.
And from there, I became vastly interested in my hands, prepared to ignore my way through the next ninety minutes, per my usual, until my sentence was over.
“Alright,” Matt announced at some point, clapping and breaking into my fog. “Everyone’s here. Let’s get started.”
I glanced up to discover that the other five members of my group had arrived.
My fellow grievers.
I didn’t want to like any of them. But the little shits were starting to grow on me; it was annoying as hell.
To my left, we had Damien Archer. Too shy.
Then there was Foster Union, the people pleaser.
And next to him slouched Hudson Ivey, future stoner in the making.
On the other side of Matt sat Keene Dugger. I swear, this kid was so hyper he must drink nothing but energy drinks or straight caffeine for breakfast. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned into a cartoon character one of these days and just started bouncing off the walls like a rubber ball.
And lastly was Alec Younger, the way-too-sweet-for-his-own-good goofball.
Thane seemed to fit in with the group perfectly. But he could make friends with anyone, so I wasn’t surprised.
None of them had ever attempted to talk to me, though. Probably because of my glare. Thane said I had an epic glare.
“So, Alec…” Matt began, making the youngest member of the group shrink lower in his seat.
Alec had turned nine about half a year ago, and this week was the one-year anniversary of his father’s death. The kid had rich brown hair full of crazy curls and the brightest blue eyes I’d probably ever seen in my life.
All he talked about was the last movie he’d watched or the next he wanted to see. He’d made me actually curious enough to go to the theater with Thane for Guardians of the Galaxy after he’d raved about it.
Stupid movie had caused me to smile. And laugh.
I wasn’t a fan of enjoyment anymore. So I majorly held that against Alec. I didn’t deserve to feel such positive emotions after killing my parents.
“I believe you said last week that you’d be ready to share your story today,” Matt told Alec in a distracted voice as he consulted his notes. “Do you still feel like talking about your…?” He flipped a page on his clipboard, trying to figure out who Alec had lost in his life, and I rolled my eyes.
His dad, dumbass. He’d lost his dad.
I swear. This guy was so lame. You’d think he’d be able to memorize at least that much about us. There were only seven kids in the group—six if you excluded Thane, who was only here as moral support for me and hadn’t actually lost anyone. It shouldn’t be that hard to remember the deaths we were trying to deal with.
“My dad,” Alec supplied when Matt floundered for too long.
“Yes,” Matt cheered and pointed in congratulations as if applauding Alec for remembering his own loss. Somebody get that boy a lollipop; he actually knew who he was mourning.
“What can you tell us about him?” Matt prodded. “How did he die? Was he sick? In a car accident?”
“No.” Alec shook his head. “He just…died.” His shoulders lifted briefly, letting us know he wasn’t sure what else there was to say about it. “Like, he just—he clutched his chest and fell over. Dead.”
“Oh no…” Matt set a hand against his own chest.
I lifted one eyebrow and sent Thane a look to let him know Matt’s dramatics were off-the-charts terrible.
Thane merely widened his eyes scoldingly, telling me to chill.
Across the circle, Matt asked Alec, “So you were there?”
Alec nodded and lowered his gaze to his hands, wringing them in his lap.
“Were you at home?”
Alec shook his head. “No. He didn’t live with us.”
“So you were at your dad’s house?” Matt persisted.
Disgusted, I almost threw my hands up, not sure why it mattered where it fucking happened. His dad fucking died. Who fucking cared about when or where or how or why? He’d lost a parent, Matt. How the fuck was he supposed to get over that? That’s all I needed to know.
“No, I—I’d never been to his house,” Alec said. “I actually thought he lived far away. I mean, why else would he only come to visit on my birthdays and just send money for Christmas?”
“But he didn’t live far away?” Matt asked, looking confused.
Alec shook his head and grew nervous, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “No. I don’t think so.”
“Okay,” Matt answered, clearly lost. “So how did you learn he lived nearby?”
“I was at the town carnival with my mom,” Alec explained. “And I saw him there. He was standing in line for the Ferris wheel with some…girl.” He shrugged, letting us know he had no idea who the girl had been. “So I ran over to say hi. But the girl—she asked him who I was, and she—she called him dad, too.”
“What?” Matt yelped, his eyes wide before he slapped a hand over his mouth to excuse his reaction. But he only ripped the hand away to ask, “So you have a sister? You have a sister and didn’t even know it?”
Alec shrugged and then nodded his head. “I guess.”
“Well, shit,” Hudson murmured, taking an interest now.
I had to agree. This was gettin’ fucking juicy.
“He had a whole other family,” Alec explained. “And they didn’t know anything about me or my mom. And I didn’t know anything about them. My mom might’ve known, though.” He made a face. “But she never told me.”
“Unreal,” Foster breathed, shaking his head in amazement.
“When his wife showed up and met me…” Alec kept talking. “She and his daughter had an absolute cow. They really did not like learning, you know, that he had another kid.”
“Was the sister older or younger than you?” Thane asked.
“Older,” Alec said with a wince. “She’s a year older than me.”
Meaning, this dude had cheated on his wife with Alec’s mom.
“Damn,” Hudson whispered from beside me.
I glanced his way, and we made eye contact, sharing a sympathetic grimace.
“My dad’s wife and daughter got really mad,” Alec explained. “They started yelling at him. So my dad… He just—his breathing grew fast and choppy. His face turned red. Sweat popped out on his forehead. And then, he clutched his chest, and—you know—fell over. Right there at the carnival.”
“Whoa,” Matt answered with wide eyes. “That, uh, I mean, that must’ve been pretty scary for you, huh?”
Alec nodded. He still kind of looked shell-shocked from just talking about it. “At the funeral, my dad’s daughter yelled at me. She said I killed him. She called me a murderer. But I—” He shook his head, his lips trembling. “I don’t know how I killed him. I didn’t even touch him.”
“Oh, Alec, no,” Matt assured gently. “You didn’t kill him, bud. Not at all. Your dad just wasn’t able to deal with the consequences of his own actions.”
“Then why did she say I did?”
“Well, she—” Matt shook his head with a wince. “You know, I bet she felt guilty.”
Guilty?
“As if she herself had killed him. Because she yelled at him.”
Swallowing, I slunk lower in my chair, not liking the fact that I had something in common with Alec’s bully of a sister.
“She had to be hurting and upset and needed to blame someone for all her pain and guilt,” Matt kept talking. “But she couldn’t handle blaming herself, and she didn’t know you, so it must’ve been easiest for her to lash out and direct all those frustrated, angry, shameful feelings your way.”
Alec furrowed his brow in confusion, clearly not understanding. So Keene, who was sitting beside him, silently reached over and patted his arm, which seemed to settle Alec more than anything.
“So did you ever—” Matt started to ask, but a knock on the door interrupted him.
“Hey!” Madisyn, one of the other counselors, greeted perkily as she popped her head into the room, smiling wide enough for a set of dimples to appear.
Damien, who had a massive crush on her, straightened in his seat, immediately on high alert.
“I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she stepped partially inside. “But we just had a new addition join the center this morning, and she’s ten, so I believe she’d best fit into this group.”
Foster whirled toward Damien with lifted eyebrows. “She? We’re getting a girl?”
I wrinkled my nose in distaste because I didn’t want a girl in the group. We’d never get to have any more guy talk or make fart jokes or any of that cool shit if some girl joined us.
Well, the other guys wouldn’t. But I didn’t mind listening to them talk and mess around. I occasionally even got a kick out of some of their antics.
But now I wouldn’t even get that if some girl joined us. Everyone would have to behave.
At the door, Madisyn stepped aside to let in the new addition. I sat up straighter to see better as she announced, “Everyone, this is Hope Langston.”
“Psst.”
Hearing someone’s hiss for attention, I glanced over to find Alec frantically tugging on Keene’s arm, trying to tell him something.
“That’s her,” he whispered, but Keene was too busy listening to Matt ask the girl who she’d lost to hear Alec’s warning.
“My, uh—I lost my dad,” she stumbled out in a wobbly voice. “A year ago.”
Glancing between her and Alec, I absorbed the fact that she had Alec’s rich brown, curly hair and bright blue eyes. Truth be told, she was pretty much a carbon copy of him, but in girl form.
Suddenly understanding what Alec meant by “her,” I realized—oh shit—and I whirled toward Thane for help. He could fix anything.
But he was busy looking all sad and sympathetic for Hope Langston, so I had to nudge his leg. Hard.
When he jumped and glanced my way, I hitched my head toward Alec. But Thane only winced in confusion before he went back to listening to Matt welcome the girl.
“Well, we’re happy to have you,” Matt told her as he set a hand on her back and ushered her toward our circle. “How about you sit in this free chair here by Alec?”
“Alec?” Jarring to a halt, the girl lifted her face and darted her gaze around the circle.
The moment her attention settled on him, she froze solid, and her eyes narrowed with ominous intent. “You,” she hissed.
Alec gulped and sank deeper into his seat.
Pointing, she demanded, “What is he doing here?”
“Oh!” Matt straightened in surprise and then smiled big. “Do you know Alec?”
“No,” she cried, as if the idea of knowing him was preposterous. “I don’t know him at all. I just know he killed my dad.”
“Wha…?” Matt pulled back, startled. “What did you say?”
“How dare you come here?” Hope railed, marching right up to Alec and looming over his chair, her hands balling at her sides as if she wanted to punch him. “You can’t mourn him. He lived with me. He loved me. We’re not even sure if you were actually his son or not.”
“But I—I—he said I was,” Alec tried to defend himself, cowering lower in his seat as his chin began to tremble. “He gave me birthday presents.”
“Yeah? Well, he gave me presents too,” Hope argued. “And told me I was his only child. So he must’ve lied about something. And it’s probably you because everything was just fine until you came along and just—you took him away. I lost everything because of you! You—”
“Hey!” I snarled, surging to my feet. “Leave him the fuck alone. Jesus! Can’t you see he’s just as torn up about it as you are?”
The girl whipped her angry gaze my way, momentarily startling me with how brilliantly blue her eyes were.
And wet, too.
Damn. I swallowed, feeling shitty for yelling at her while she was crying. It reminded me that her words had cost her a parent too. She’d yelled at her dad; now he was dead. She probably suffered with the same dark, guilty shame I did—the gut-wrenching loss. The helplessness.
But gah, there was no reason for her to lay into poor Alec. The friendly little dope never meant anyone any harm.
“Who are you?” she snarled at me through all her tears. “You don’t know anything. Just butt out.”
“Ex—cuse—me?” I countered, stepping toward her and feeling rage tremble over me. “I don’t know anything?” Jabbing a finger into my chest, I hissed, “Fuck you. I know what it’s like to lose both parents, kid. At the same time. So just stop whining about how you lost everything. At least you still have your mother.” I motioned toward Alec. “Plus a new brother.”
Her mouth dropped open as if I’d just struck her. Then her eyes narrowed, and I swear, I almost saw steam hiss from her ears. “That murderer is not my brother.”
“Oh really?” I challenged. “Then why does he look like your damn twin?”
She blinked her blue eyes once and then glanced toward Alec. Her face paled when she really looked at him and knew she could no longer deny the truth that he was her father’s son.
Sobbing out her defeat, she whirled back to me and screamed, “I hate you!” before she raced from the room, weeping.
“So what?” I shouted after her. “I don’t exactly love you either.”
Breathing hard after she was gone, I clutched my chest and stumbled a step back because fuck… “What a brat.”
“Whoa! Hope, wait!” Matt called, obviously just then finding his words—because where the fuck had he been ten seconds ago? “You can’t just—” Surging toward the door, the counselor started after her, only to pause briefly and lift his hand at us, saying, “I need to—just stay here. I’ll be right back.”
After he hurried into the hall, utter silence filled the blue aquarium room.
I took that moment to blink in astonishment, soaking in what Hope had screamed. It seemed all wrong. The very three words I’d last thrown at my parents had just been hurled at me.
Over the past eight months, I’d convinced myself that those condemning, taboo words only killed people. But here I was, still alive, not even harmed. Hell, I wasn’t even mad at her for saying them. I totally got where she’d been coming from. The anger and fire in her eyes was the very same anger and fire that fueled my blood every time I thought about how unfair life was.
But I remained flabbergasted, anyway, because—for the first time since I’d learned my parents were dead—I wondered if maybe I hadn’t killed them. Maybe my words hadn’t upset them into being unable to drive properly when they’d left me at the Eisners to go on their trip. Maybe their car accident had just been…an accident.
Not sure if I wanted to accept that theory as fact just yet, I turned to check on Alec, only to discover that everyone in the share circle—Alec included—was gaping at me as if I’d been the one accused of killing my father.
“What?” I snapped self-consciously.
“Dude.” Hudson whistled in a low tone and lifted his eyebrows as if impressed. “You just talked.”
“A lot,” Foster piped up, looking astonished.
“And you cuss like a high schooler,” Keene added with relish, obviously appreciating my potty mouth.
“It was so cool,” Alec breathed in awe, as if I’d just saved him from drowning. “You stood up to her for me.”
Damien merely bobbed his head, agreeing with the others, while Thane blinked before sending me a slow, slightly confused but definitely approving smile.
“I knew you’d talk again,” he said.
Realizing they were right—I’d just fucking used my words—I glanced toward the door where Hope Langston had fled, utterly floored.
Within thirty seconds of me laying eyes on her, the curly-headed hellion had become the only thing to tempt me into doing what no one else had for the last eight months—the one thing I’d promised myself I’d never do again.
And there was no taking it back, either. The genie was out of the bottle.
I could be silent no more.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered in outrage, promising myself that I’d make the brat pay for this.
Someday, she’d pay for dragging me from my beloved denial—because now, I was just pissed.
