Skeletons of Us (Unquiet Mind Book 2) Read Online Free Page A

me. Sure, I’d have a glass of champagne at events, or some red or a beer when Noah and I were curled up on the sofa watching bad TV, but I didn’t drink . Not really. I’d done it once. Once I realized how numb it made me feel. How it made me forget. At the time I thought I’d discovered to cure to my broken heart, my broken soul—a strong martini. Then I learned it only made you forget for a time. The more you drank, the more the feelings became something different, became harder to banish to that dark corner of my mind. Drinking for me didn’t mean escaping my demons; it meant facing them. Something I so didn’t want to do. That’s why I shook my head when Sam motioned to refill my glass.
    He shrugged. “More for me.”
    None of the boys blinked at my distaste for alcohol, nor did they pressure me to partake when we were at one of many industry parties or nightclubs. They accepted it. Accepted me.
    Wyatt sipped from his glass which Sam had refilled, eyeing me. “How are you really, Lex?” he asked softly. “Now we’re away from the cameras and the bullshit people.”
    I sighed, sinking back on the sofa. “I’m okay. That’s the thing. I’m okay . I’m sad he’s dead, sure, but I’m not about to curl into a ball of despair. Does that make me a horrible person?”
    Sam snorted, but his face was soft, kind. “Makes you human, babe. I wouldn’t like to live in a world where you were considered a horrible person.” He shivered. “What would that make me?” He did another shot.
    Noah reached over to squeeze my hand. “Babe, it’s no secret to us you didn’t like the guy. Thank fuck. We’d have to stage an intervention if we had an inkling you did.” He paused. “We got why you were with him, though. ‘Cause you didn’t like him. No danger there. You never have to pretend with us. Maybe out there.” He nodded to the floor-to-ceiling windows in our lounge treating us to the twinkling lights of Hollywood in the distance. “But not in here, not with us.”
    I squeezed his hand and my eyes glistened as I regarded my boys.
    “I love you guys, to the moon,” I whispered.
    Wyatt raised his glass. “Love you right back, baby girl.”
    Noah winked at me and squeezed my hand.
    Sam looked to the sky. “Jesus,” he groaned. “Is this going to turn into a circle jerk? Do I have to tell you all how my teacher spanked me in the second grade and now I’ll never look at a ruler the same again?”
    I snorted out a laugh, which Wyatt and Noah soon followed.
    “Love you too, Sammy.” I blew him a kiss.
    He rolled his eyes. “Of course you do, you’ve met me.” His tone may have been full of nonchalance, but I knew what lay behind his eyes. He was returning the gesture. But Sam didn’t do touchy feely. His Dad really did a number on him.
    A ringing jerked me out of my thoughts of asshole fathers. I glanced down at my phone and stood when I saw who it was, leaving the boys with a meaningful look.
    “Hey, Mom,” I said as I wandered into my kitchen, perching on a barstool.
    I loved our kitchen. We’d had it totally redone when we’d moved in. Both Noah and I loved to cook, hence the huge industry stove and oven and expanse of white countertop spanning the room. There was a white island covered with marble, which always had fresh flowers on it. Today it was lilies. Everything about our kitchen was white, apart from the pictures perched on the walls, their frames shades of pastel blues and turquoise. Photos of us playing, rehearsing. Photos of us crowed around a hospital bed with Mom cradling a baby Rocko. Steve and Ava smiling at us. Memories.
    Only the good ones saw the light. The other ones, the ugly, painful ones were hidden in the depths of my tortured mind.
    “Hey, dollface.”
    “Before you ask, I’m fine,” I told her, guessing that her call was to gage my state of mind, as had the other four I’d received today. I had only barely managed to stop her and Zane from driving up for the funeral.