Hell's Carnevale

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 Just thought I should give you a head’s up. Trina’s back.

Those last two words hold the power to freeze time and halt the spin of my world. Even three days after I received that text. I know Kellan meant it as a warning. Can’t blame the guy. He’s been my best friend since kindergarten. He’s also Trina’s stepbrother, so he knows. Everything. Helped me pick up the pieces when Trina left and my world imploded five years ago.

He’s the one person who knows the siren’s lure those two words hold for me. Especially since he’s the one who told me the truth. Everything my angel has been through. There’s no way I can stay away. Only reason I’m not already beating down her door is I know I won’t get another chance if I screw this up. From what Kellan told me, leaving nearly destroyed Trina. Even more than it did me.

But now, it’s time. She’s settled in the house she and Kellan grew up in. Their parents are in Florida, and Kellan bought the house next door. I know he’s watching over my angel. But as much as that’s been his role throughout their childhood, it’s one I covet for myself. Not because I see Trina as a younger sister, but because she is the woman who holds my heart. Has been since she kissed me when she was fourteen, to erase the sting of Andrea LaBelle’s rejection when I asked her to the school dance. Before that, I always thought my feelings for Trina were totally platonic. The extra protectiveness and possessiveness I just chalked up to her being a delicate child. One her parents tended to forget about. That sweet, innocent gesture stripped away any gilding, though. Even at fifteen, I knew the sparks that flared—the intensity of my physical reactions—wasn’t just a normal teenage response. This was no giddy crush or rose-colored puppy love. What unfurled in my chest felt so huge I struggled to breathe. 

The moment the initial shock released me from my frozen stupor, my arms closed around Trina, and I found my true north. In the heartbeat before I kissed her back, I recognized that wherever life took me, she would always be my destination.

So, when she left without a word, a few months before graduation, I lost myself. The first two years, I fumbled blindly, stumbling with uncertain steps as I circled, searching everywhere for direction. It took me too long to realize that it is still her. Trina will always be my compass. Once I finally acknowledged that truth, my way became clear. I started planning for the moment I found her again. Because after what Kellan told me, I realized my angel was just as lost as me.

Now that Trina’s stumbled back into my path, it’s time I man up. I pull to the curb in front of her house, turn off my car, grab the bright red celosia from the passenger seat, and climb out. With one last deep breath, I walk to Trina’s front door. Impatience tugs at me, making it hard to stand still as I wait for her to respond to my knock. Mischievous sprites cavort in my stomach, sometimes giving me that giddy rush of excitement and others slamming me with nausea and uncertainty. My heart pounds even harder than my rap on her door. I wipe my free hand on my pants, hoping the little plant I’m holding doesn’t slip from my clammy grip.

The door cracks open, and a spill of riotous black and fuchsia curls bounces as a familiar head tilts slowly up. Those big gray eyes graze over me like a physical caress, making my muscles clench and flex without command. My breath refuses to leave my burning lungs in the interminable seconds it takes for her scrutiny to reach my face. There is no flare, no widening of her eyes in surprise as she scans my form. Recognition already melted into something more familiar. Like me, she felt the tug the moment I drew close. Knew who stood at her door even before she opened it.

That moment of identification isn’t there. But what I read in those eyes is so much more powerful than that. Memory. Love. Lust. Need. Guilt. Hesitation. Fear—no, make that outright terror. It all flashes in those beautiful gray orbs. I can read the thoughts on her expressive face just as easily as I could five years ago. And while I don’t have all the reasons for the haunting shadows that darken her eyes yet, I’m hoping my appearance can lighten a few of them.

I flash her a crooked grin and hold out my peace offering. “Hey, Trina. Welcome home, Angel.”