Free A Wicked Kiss by M. S. Parker Page A

see this. She would’ve been ashamed of you.”
    That comment had hit me hard. I’d spent the rest of the night alternating between crying and raging. Only after I’d spent hours curled up in bed, desperate for sleep, did I remind myself that it was my life, not my brother’s or my mother’s, that Jasper and I knew that Allen would want us to take care of each other. That he’d want us to be happy. As long as we knew that and we cared about each other, it didn’t matter what anyone else said.
    I’d spent the rest of the week focusing on Jasper moving in and ignoring the fact that Mitchell never called or texted. Monday after school, I’d gone through the living room and packed up some things to make room for some of Jasper’s things. The kitchen had come next, though he’d decided to leave most of his own kitchenware for whatever family took up residence. The same would be done with most of his furniture, so there wasn’t really much of mine and Allen’s things I had to pack away.
    I’d left off the bathroom until Wednesday, throwing away the last of Allen’s belongings there. I hadn’t been consciously keeping around things like his razor or his brand of mouthwash, but I hadn’t thrown them out either. That night, I had. I’d cleaned out every last bit of Allen from the master bathroom and then I’d sat in the shower and cried until the water turned cold.
    Thursday had been even worse. I’d packed up all of Allen’s usable clothes and thrown away the ones that couldn’t be donated. For some reason, taking out the trash had bothered me more than putting the boxes of clothes into my car. Even though it had been late, I’d driven into the city and dropped the things off at the mission, hoping I’d be able to keep from crying.
    I had. I’d actually felt good as I’d driven away, as if the thought of Allen being able to help someone even after his death had been somehow helping me heal. And then I’d seen the trashcans at the end of the driveway and I’d known that the bags inside had contained all of the little junk that Allen was never going to use again.
    It had been that, more than anything else, that had made it hit home. Allen was gone and never coming back. He’d never use up the rest of the aftershave I’d bought him for Christmas last year. Never throw out the cheap comb that he’d always insisted worked ‘just fine’ even though he’d just as often borrowed my hairbrush.
    Yesterday hadn’t been any easier, coming home and feeling the house half-empty. It hadn’t really looked much different. Even the upstairs had been the same until I’d opened the dresser or closet. I’d doubted that anyone else would’ve even noticed, but I had. I’d felt like something had been torn out of me or away from me, like a part of me had gone missing.
    I’d cried myself to sleep and had woken up this morning with a new resolution.
    I was moving forward. I wouldn’t forget Allen or the years we’d spent together, but I wasn’t going to let them hold me back either. I got up, put on a pair of ratty jeans, an equally grubby t-shirt and then headed downstairs to make myself some breakfast.
    Jasper arrived a couple hours later and immediately pulled me into his arms for a thorough and resounding kiss. I melted against him, letting myself enjoy the solid feel of his body, the heat of his skin.
    When he finally broke the kiss, we were both breathing hard and I was feeling much better.
    Jasper frowned as he looked around. “Did Mitchell have to work today?”
    I looked away. I hadn’t told him about the fight. “No, he went home. After all,” I tried to keep my tone light, “it’d be a bit awkward to have my big brother here too.”
    “Well, I didn’t think he’d be staying, but I figured he’d at least want to make sure everything was set before he left.” Jasper took a step back. “When did he leave?” When I didn’t answer, he spoke again, “Shae, what’s going on?”
    “He’s mad