“How was it?” I ask, knowing Josh's parents live in a neighborhood similar to my own. “Being back home? The crowds, the feeling, everything. What was it like?” Josh sighs and leans over, folding his arms across the railing and putting his forehead against them.
“Horrible. The first day I was back, I snuck into the garage and borrowed my dad's car. I thought if I could get past the crowds on the street, I could actually find some peace and quiet. They trailed me all the way to a Burger King, and once I went inside, I couldn't get out. I locked myself in the bathroom.” Josh sighs heavily, and puts all his weight against the railing. “I had to call Brayden Ryker to get me out.” My blood chills.
“You called Brayden Ryker?” I ask, glancing over my shoulder to see if Lola's actually asleep or just resting. I find her blue eyes on mine, sparkling like the sea in a storm. As far as I know, nobody's actually told her who murdered her sister. According to Turner, Brayden Ryker pointed his gun at Poppet's head and pulled the trigger, just like that. I turn back around and focus on Josh as he lifts his head up to look at me.
“Yeah. I didn't know who else to call. And, I don't know, but I trust that guy.” Josh shrugs and stands up, scowling again when he catches sight of Turner flipping him off from the diving board. “Go fuck yourself!” he screams and retreats back into the room, spinning in a tight circle and flopping into a crimson covered chair in the corner. He puts his feet up on the ottoman and then wrinkles his nose, dragging his black and white Converse off the expensive fabric with a grimace. “I can't say anything about the future, but I can tell you that right now, living a normal life or any semblance of a normal life is pretty much an impossibility.” Josh sags and shakes his head, focusing his blue eyes on the floor. “I spent my entire childhood wishing I could make it big, play in a real rock band, make a shit ton of money. Now that I have … I kind of wish I hadn't.” He sighs and pokes at the fleur-de-lis motif on the arm of the chair. “Anyway, you guys were probably right to get a house here, somewhere with fucking walls and a gate. When Turner said people hopped my fence into the backyard, he wasn't kidding.” Josh pauses again and looks up at Lola as she groans and forces her body into a sitting position, watching us both carefully. “If it's not too much trouble, I mean, I don't really want to live here or anything, but maybe I could stay for a while? Just until things cool down a bit?”
I smile and clamp my hand on Josh's shoulder.
“Of course, man. Go pick a fucking bedroom.” He sighs with relief and rises to his feet, tossing a smile Lola's way and disappearing into the hallway. I watch after him and take a deep breath, gathering my courage for what I know I have to do next.
“Hey,” I tell Lola, turning my attention to the world's most beautiful woman. My mind calls traitor and tries to bring up Asuka's smile, but I refuse to look at it. I've spent years fantasizing about her, years looking at old photographs. It won't do me any good to keep obsessing over my lost soul mate. All I can do is try to embrace the woman in front of me, my second chance, my redemption. I make myself smile. “I don't think I can sit around here right now. To be honest, this place is giving me the chills.” I cough into my hand and take a deep breath. “Would you like to go visit my parents with me? I … need to see Lydia.” Lola stares back at me for a moment, and I consider throwing out an excuse to get her to stay here. Maybe she shouldn't be moving around right now, anyway?
“Yeah, yeah,” she says, scooting to the edge of the bed with a considerable amount of effort. I move over and take her hands in mine. I know we're moving too fast, that meeting the parents and dealing with the kids is usually something that comes six months or more down the line, but we're way past that now. Besides, I've learned my lesson. Time isn't always kind to love. You never know when it's just minutes and hours that you have left, instead of years. The day Asuka died, I was fantasizing about how I was going to propose to her after a year or two of college. Fucking laughable. “You know I'm always up for a bit of family drama, Ronnie,” she says as I pull her to my feet and fold her gently into my arms with a sigh.
“I'm glad you are, babe,” I say as I stare out the window at the foliage blowing in the gentle California breeze. “Because I'm not sure that I am.”
It takes a hell of a lot more maneuvering to get out of the mansion than I thought. Milo has to call in a few extra guards from the new security firm he's working with. They bring their own van, this one a hell of a lot nicer than the one we had rented before. The seats are leather and there's a pair of TVs flickering from the headrests in front of us. Champagne is served and I'm pretty sure Lola drinks an entire bottle by herself.