Delicate: Ethan Laundry

Fourteen

Lakyn's POV

My head pounds as I stand here in front of the Sheriffs too-big whiteboard, the pictures tacked up on it staring at me in mockery, especially the picture of my dad.

Billy, hair awry, black jacket over his shoulders, smirking. If I didn't know all of the horrible things he's done, he'd look like any other teenager from the 90's.

Sam observes the picture with me, before the two of us rip our eyes from the mesmerizing photo that was drawing us both to it for the same reason; because deep down inside, we feel one in the same as him.

Being a fraternal twin is weird. I remember always asking my mother why we weren't identical when we were little. She'd try to explain it to me, and so would our "dad," but I never quite got it. Why did some twins look the same, whereas sam and I are completely different.

"Did you call him?" Sam asks me, her eyes not leaving the white board. I have a feeling she's staring at the same picture I am. Tara however, is looking at her phone.

"Yeah they're coming," I turn to Tara, "have you talked to Chad."

"Yeah. They talked to two guys." She doesn't take her eyes of the screen, "they knew Jason and Greg, I think their names are Riggs and Jackson."

"Ha, Riggs." Sam chuckles, "who would name their kid that?"

"I kind of like it, actually." I state.

"Yeah okay." Tara quickly remarks, going back to texting on her phone.

"What'd these two have to say about Jason?" I ask, "well, and Greg."

"No idea, Lakyn." Tara remarks, "they'll probably tell us all together, so the sheriff can hear."

After a few minutes of awkward small talk, and strained conversation between us and the sheriff, there's finally a knock at the office door.

"The remainder of the core five," Chad pauses as Bailey opens the door, "has arrived."

I let out a meticulous laugh as Ethan makes his way through the door last, shuffling on his feet, brunette curls bouncing, as he makes his way over to me.

"I was worried about you." He snakes his arms around my lower back, pressing a delicate kiss to my lips, "I don't know why, but I had a bad feeling."

I nuzzle my head into his chest, listening to the heartbeat that was steadying due to his running up the stairs, the sheriffs office was around four floors up, how very convenient.

"I think maybe that's just because you like me a whole lot," I tease, "and can't stand being away from me."

"Yeah, or because you were brutally attacked not so long ago," he fires back, humor lacing his buttery voice, "and I wanna keep you safe."

"We gonna get to talking or what?" Mindy plops herself down into a chair, kicking her feet up onto the conference table and situating her arms to rest behind her head, carefree and casual, classic Mindy.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to see her and Randy in the same room, holding a conversation that likely follows the topic of horror movies. Randy was always said to be the tall gangly kid with no Billy-like aspirations, always fawning over a film, a witty jokester who elevated geek to coolness. Mindy is a spitting image of him.

Although my father wasn't directly responsible for his death, he intended to be at first. I can't help but acknowledge that his murderous plot, was one that set off a chain reaction- my grandma did kill Randy because he was talking about Billy negatively, after all.