Kellan (31 page)

“The
best,” I said, turning toward her with a smile. “I was just about to say
goodbye.”

Iris
slid her arm around my waist as I turned back to my mother’s grave. I hated the
thought of leaving, of having to wait until some other time to come and see
her. But I knew that my family was waiting for me, and I couldn’t keep them
waiting for long.

“Goodbye,
Mom,” I said to her gravestone, glinting in the dying light beneath the boughs
of that old oak tree. “I love you.”

~
EPILOGUE ~

Iris

SIX MONTHS LATER

“Come on, Kellan. This is a big deal. I think a little
celebration is in order, huh?”

Kellan sighed, rolling his eyes like
ninety full days of sobriety after rehab was no big deal. He ran a hand through
his freshly cut hair, still grumbling about how the stylist took off too much
length, and squinted at the banner I’d made for him and strung up across my
apartment door.

“This is silly,” he said. “I made it
a whole three months without fuckin’ up, and you want to throw me some kind of
party.” I shrugged and he narrowed his eyes at me, running his tongue over his
teeth. “Well, shit. Did you at least get me a piñata?”

“That can be arranged,” I told him,
hugging him around his shoulders. “What should we put in it, do you think?
Candy? Cupcakes? Tiny little strippers?”

Kellan snorted a gruff laugh. “How
‘bout some pills and clean needles? Can never have too many of those.” He saw
my sharp look and flashed me a sheepish grin. “I’m joking, sis. Really. C’mon,
you gotta let me have my gallows humor.” He turned to me and put his hands on
my arms. “Sometimes, if you don’t laugh, you’ll cry. And I really, really don’t
feel like crying today. So just go with it and put up with my shit for a couple
hours. Okay?”

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.
“Fine. But keep the relapse jokes to a minimum. You scare me half to death with
those things.”

“Scout’s honor,” my brother said,
holding up his hand in a mock salute. “I’m doing the best I can, Iris. Takin’
it one day at a time. I don’t want to let you down again.”

“And you’re not going to,” I told
him, “because I was serious about what I said back at the hospital. You so much
as look wrong at a pill or a needle again, Kellan Walker, and I will—”

“End me,” Kellan finished on my
behalf. “I got it, trust me. Who needs to OD when you’ve got a family like
ours, huh?”

I shook my head, taking my little
brother in for a moment. God, he’d come such a long way in such a short time,
and sometimes, his progress kind of scared me. I kept waiting for the other
shoe to drop, for Kellan to go back on his word and disappear from our lives
again, only this time, maybe Slade and I wouldn’t find him in time to stop
something bad from happening to him. I read somewhere that addicts have the
highest chance of ODing
after
they’d gotten clean—their tolerance drops,
and they tend to forget that when they’re frantically trying to scratch that
evil little itch. But so far, so good with Kellan. He was really putting in the
effort, and I couldn’t have been more proud of him.

“Slade’s the only one here so far,” I
told him, opening the door. “Dad and Mom won’t be here for a little while, and
I invited a few of my friends. I hope you don’t mind.”

“That depends,” Kellan said, stepping
into my apartment and hanging his coat from the rack near the door, “are they
hot?”

“Too hot for you, little brother,” I
answered, closing the door behind us and leading Kellan into my kitchen. “But
hey, at least you’ll get some cake.”

I expected some lip, but Kellan just
made a beeline for the store-bought icing monstrosity set up on my kitchen
table. “Ooh, cake…”

“Hey, Kellan,” Slade said, stepping
out of the bedroom where he’d just finished cleaning up. God, did my
stepbrother look great when he got all gussied up for company. He was wearing a
maroon, long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up—I wasn’t sure what it was
about that look that got to me, but goddamn, it was hot. Like he was ready to
get down to business, get his hands dirty. I was definitely up for some of that
later, but right now, his hotness made it difficult to concentrate.

“What’s up, bro?” Kellan said,
sucking icing off his fingers as he pulled Slade in for a bro hug. “How’s
married life, huh?”

“We’re not married, Kellan,” I told
him with an exasperated sigh. “We’re just living together. God, I forgot how
annoying you are.”

“So you’re… what, his live-in
girlfriend?” Kellan asked, eyebrows raised. “Damn, sis. No wonder you’re
cranky.”

Slade chuckled. He was way more
amused by Kellan’s shit than I was. Seeing the look on my face, he put his arm
around me and drew me in close. “Your sister and I are taking things slow,” he
said, then winked at me. “For now.”

A blush crept into my cheeks. I both
loved and hated when he talked like that. It flustered me like nothing else.

It was so good to have everything back
to… well, back to whatever passed for
normal
around here. Our family was
back together. Kellan was safe. And even my non-conventional relationship with
Slade had stopped being a topic of conversation months ago. My mom had accepted
it more easily than Dad had. He still thought it was weird. But he’d stopped
making faces whenever we kissed or held hands, and that was pretty good
progress, all things considered.

And Slade, for his part, was fitting
in just fine. True to his word, he’d moved back home as soon as he could and
took a position with the metro hospital. Not only was he instrumental to
Kellan’s recovery, partly overseeing his therapy and making arrangements for a
stellar outpatient program, but he was also patenting a device he hoped would
become commonplace for drug addicts around the world. It was an epi pen-like
delivery system containing naloxone, the drug Slade had used to save Kellan’s
life. Since it was so fast-acting, it could be revolutionary in preventing
drug-related deaths. The most rigorous of the medical trials it would have to
pass to make it to market were coming up soon, but Slade didn’t even seem
worried. I guessed that was an advantage of being a cocky bastard—you never bet
against yourself.

Which meant the only sleepless nights
Slade had around here were the ones he spent with me, making up for lost time.
Even after six months, the sex with him was
hot.
He never ran out of
ways to amaze me. I had the sneaking suspicion that he had some kind of manual
stashed away somewhere.

“So, you set any long-term goals for
yourself, Kellan?” I asked my younger brother. “I mean, since you’re so curious
about what Slade and I are doing, I’m sure there’s something you want to
share.”

“One day at a time, sis,” he said
again, going back for seconds on the icing he’d stolen. “One day at a time.”

Come to think of it, that wasn’t a
bad motto. It was a great way to look at life—like each day was an
accomplishment in and of itself. Like the happiness you had right now was way
more important than the past, or even the future. You had to cherish things
while they were still around. You couldn’t take them for granted. Having
suffered so much loss throughout my life, I was very well aware of what
forgetting all that could do.

I looked up at Slade again and saw
that mischievous spark in his eyes, the one I’d first seen seven years ago when
he’d decided to set his sights on me. Even after all this time, it hadn’t
faded. He was still into me, still in love, still looking for ways to one-up
me. God, I hoped he never stopped.

“Yeah,” I said, slipping my arms
around him and watching as Kellan sat on our couch, safe and sound. “One day at
a time.”

The End.