sigh. “I can take care of
myself. You don’t have to beat the crap out of every guy who talks to me.”
“Brady wasn’t talking to you.”
Reggie sat on
the sofa next to him and smiled warmly. “I know you feel you need to look
after me, but you have to stop beating yourself up over it.”
Dylan studied
his hand and avoided looking at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you
feel guilty because you weren’t home the night mom and dad died in the fire.
It wasn’t your fault. If you’d been home, you may have died too.”
Dylan still
didn’t look at her and frowned. “By all rights, I should have been home.”
“It wasn’t your
fate, just like it wasn’t mine. Accept it.”
“It was my
fate,” he insisted. “Going out at the last minute altered what should have
been.”
“Fate spared
you if for nothing more than to look after me.”
Dylan
uncertainly looked at her.
She smiled
gently. “I never could have made it on my own back then,” she said. “I needed
you to keep me sane.”
He stared a
moment longer, appeared to relax, and smiled timidly. “You’re stronger than I
ever was, Reggie. It’s me who needs you, not the other way around.” He
playfully slapped her leg and grinned. “I have something for you.”
He jumped up
from the sofa, removed a gift-wrapped box from the end table drawer, and
proudly handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
she asked.
“A little
graduation present.”
He sat
alongside her as she opened the box. It was an opal ring with diamonds on
either side. Reggie smiled happily and hugged him.
“It’s
absolutely beautiful, Dylan. But you shouldn’t have.”
“Of course I
should. It’s symbolic,” he informed her. “That’s the opal from mom’s
surviving earring that dad gave her on their tenth wedding anniversary. The
two diamonds are from dad’s watch that stopped when he had to unexpectedly
deliver you on the kitchen floor, and the gold band was melted down from my
class ring that I never wore.”
Reggie stared
at him a long moment with surprise. “Well, aren’t you the sentimental big
brother.”
“Well, at least
I’m good at something.”
Reggie smiled
and playfully patted his leg.
Dylan sighed
and stood. “Do we have any Twinkies?”
“Of course we
have Twinkies,” she said with a groan. “You’d starve to death if we didn’t.”
“I’m a Twinkie
addict, I know. But I’m just not ready to quit.”
“You feed your
addiction. I’m going to bed,” she remarked and stood. “Don’t leave the
wrappers scattered about again. It’s like a trail of Twinkie wrappers from the
kitchen to your room.”
†
T wo A.M. Reggie slept
peacefully beneath the covers in her dimly lit, second floor bedroom. Low,
muffled voices were heard from the bedroom next door. There was a moment of
silence followed by a loud clunk. Reggie suddenly woke with disorientation and
looked around. There was another clunk from Dylan’s bedroom. Reggie gasped
and jumped from her bed. Dylan suddenly cried out in terror and possible
agony. Reggie ran from her room. She slid before Dylan’s door and attempted
to open it. It was locked. Dylan cried out. The sound was horrifying.
Reggie pounded on the door.
“Dylan! Dylan,
open up!” she screamed. “Are you okay?”
He continued to
cry out. There were more loud thumps and crashes associated with a struggle.
Reggie was now terrified. She rammed her shoulder into the door. It didn’t
budge. She stepped back as Dylan’s scream faded and kicked the door inward
with one violent thrust. As she stood in the doorway, horror swept over her.
There were broken objects, furniture was overturned, and the bed was covered
with blood. Reggie was frozen with terror as she stared at the blood on the
floor and surrounding the broken window. A bloody Twinkie wrapper lie on the
nightstand.
†
T wo
myself. You don’t have to beat the crap out of every guy who talks to me.”
“Brady wasn’t talking to you.”
Reggie sat on
the sofa next to him and smiled warmly. “I know you feel you need to look
after me, but you have to stop beating yourself up over it.”
Dylan studied
his hand and avoided looking at her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you
feel guilty because you weren’t home the night mom and dad died in the fire.
It wasn’t your fault. If you’d been home, you may have died too.”
Dylan still
didn’t look at her and frowned. “By all rights, I should have been home.”
“It wasn’t your
fate, just like it wasn’t mine. Accept it.”
“It was my
fate,” he insisted. “Going out at the last minute altered what should have
been.”
“Fate spared
you if for nothing more than to look after me.”
Dylan
uncertainly looked at her.
She smiled
gently. “I never could have made it on my own back then,” she said. “I needed
you to keep me sane.”
He stared a
moment longer, appeared to relax, and smiled timidly. “You’re stronger than I
ever was, Reggie. It’s me who needs you, not the other way around.” He
playfully slapped her leg and grinned. “I have something for you.”
He jumped up
from the sofa, removed a gift-wrapped box from the end table drawer, and
proudly handed it to her.
“What’s this?”
she asked.
“A little
graduation present.”
He sat
alongside her as she opened the box. It was an opal ring with diamonds on
either side. Reggie smiled happily and hugged him.
“It’s
absolutely beautiful, Dylan. But you shouldn’t have.”
“Of course I
should. It’s symbolic,” he informed her. “That’s the opal from mom’s
surviving earring that dad gave her on their tenth wedding anniversary. The
two diamonds are from dad’s watch that stopped when he had to unexpectedly
deliver you on the kitchen floor, and the gold band was melted down from my
class ring that I never wore.”
Reggie stared
at him a long moment with surprise. “Well, aren’t you the sentimental big
brother.”
“Well, at least
I’m good at something.”
Reggie smiled
and playfully patted his leg.
Dylan sighed
and stood. “Do we have any Twinkies?”
“Of course we
have Twinkies,” she said with a groan. “You’d starve to death if we didn’t.”
“I’m a Twinkie
addict, I know. But I’m just not ready to quit.”
“You feed your
addiction. I’m going to bed,” she remarked and stood. “Don’t leave the
wrappers scattered about again. It’s like a trail of Twinkie wrappers from the
kitchen to your room.”
†
T wo A.M. Reggie slept
peacefully beneath the covers in her dimly lit, second floor bedroom. Low,
muffled voices were heard from the bedroom next door. There was a moment of
silence followed by a loud clunk. Reggie suddenly woke with disorientation and
looked around. There was another clunk from Dylan’s bedroom. Reggie gasped
and jumped from her bed. Dylan suddenly cried out in terror and possible
agony. Reggie ran from her room. She slid before Dylan’s door and attempted
to open it. It was locked. Dylan cried out. The sound was horrifying.
Reggie pounded on the door.
“Dylan! Dylan,
open up!” she screamed. “Are you okay?”
He continued to
cry out. There were more loud thumps and crashes associated with a struggle.
Reggie was now terrified. She rammed her shoulder into the door. It didn’t
budge. She stepped back as Dylan’s scream faded and kicked the door inward
with one violent thrust. As she stood in the doorway, horror swept over her.
There were broken objects, furniture was overturned, and the bed was covered
with blood. Reggie was frozen with terror as she stared at the blood on the
floor and surrounding the broken window. A bloody Twinkie wrapper lie on the
nightstand.
†
T wo