Spin

Chapter Fourteen

It was happening all over again. The party. Only this time, I wasn't experiencing it, I was watching. I could see Dean smiling at me as he sat with me on the bed, I could see myself struggling with him as he forced himself into me, watched as Spin tore into the room too late to stop Dean from making me another notch in his baseball bat. I watched in agony as Dean shoved that knife into my brother's back, and I could see, I could feel, the blade pierce his heart.

I shrieked wildly, my eyes snapping open.

"Lexi? Oh, my poor baby. It's okay."

"Mama?" I hadn't called her that since elementary school. Her face came into sharp focus, her eyes, so much like mine, so much like Spin's, those eyes broke my heart. They howled with anguish, sparkled with unshed tears.

"It's okay, Lexi. You're safe now," Mom soothed. 

I started to cry.

"I'm so sorry, Mama. Spin...I...he..." I couldn't speak. My body shuddered.

"Hush now, Lexi. It isn't your fault."

I looked up at her, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"How did you find out?" I asked softly, imagining her receiving the one phone call every parent dreads: her firstborn dead, her daughter raped. I could picture her and Dad in that lake house, maybe having a few drinks, and I could practically hear the phone ring. My mother answering the phone, her face going pale, her knees buckling. I shook my head, rocketing back to the present and catching the tail end of her story.

"—And after the police called, we came as fast as we could. We didn't know until we got here that..." She choked up and squeezed my hand. "That Spencer was dead."

"What about Dean? Where is he?" I asked, my voice trembling.

"In police custody, cowering behind some expensive lawyer and crying self defense. That bastard is actually trying to walk!" came my father's voice as he briskly entered the room. I lifted my head and caught his eye as he crossed the room to my side. He bent and kissed my temple gently.

"You okay, baby?" he asked.

I stared up into his heartbroken eyes.

"Oh, Daddy!" I burst into a fresh round of tears. 

My parents fell silent, all of us caught up in our own grief. I gulped in lungfuls of air, trying to regain composure.

"Where's Cody?" I finally asked. Mom stroked my arm.

"Downstairs, in the morgue. He hasn't left Spencer's side since we got here. He's pretty torn up about everything."

I drew in a shaky breath.

"I want to see Spin."

Mom and Dad didn't argue, didn't try to talk me out of it. They simply paged a nurse for a wheelchair and I eased into it carefully, every muscle in my body screaming in pain. We rode in the elevator in silence, my anxiety rising. When we reached the morgue, I held my breath.

"Are you ready?" Dad asked, smoothing my hair. 

I exhaled slowly.

"Yeah."

We went inside, and at that moment, more than ever over the course of the last few agonizing hours, I wished I had died with Spin.

It wasn't just the sound of my mother's immediate weeping. It wasn't just the sight of Spin's body lying there, cold and unmoving.

It was Cody, my quiet, loving Cody, crying uncontrollably on his knees on the floor.

"It should've been me," he wept. "I was supposed to protect her."

I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from crying out. I didn't understand how my heart could be so broken but still be beating. I was the reason everyone was in so much pain. Dad went to Cody and tried to comfort him, leading him out of the morgue. I reached for him, but he pulled away, shaking his head.

Mom helped me out of the wheelchair and over to Spin. His skin looked gray, waxen, cold. Mom reached over and stroked his cheek.

"My boy," she whispered, her voice clogged with tears. "My beautiful boy."

"Mama? Can I...can I touch him?" I asked shakily.

"Of course you can."

I tentatively touched Spin's face, jerking my hand away quickly. This couldn't be real. It had to be a bad dream. I bit the inside of my cheek, wincing as blood pooled on my tongue. I was awake.

It was real.

"Oh, Jesus, Spin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Don't leave me like this. God, take me instead! Please, not him, not Spin!"

I repeated it in my head like a prayer, like maybe it would change something if I said it enough.

Not Spin, not Spin, not Spin...