Beautiful Heist

5. I'm Not Quiet. I'm Plotting.

Great, just great.

"Don't let him get to you," Elena grinned, patting my knee. "He hasn't always been an ass, but he's not that bad...most of the time."

"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "I hardly doubt that. He acts like he can't even stand to be around me. I'm pretty sure he's never going to stop hating me for busting in on him."

She laughed, nodding slightly. "Yeah, he told us everything that happened yesterday. I think it's funny how you followed him when most would run in the other direction, but I would have done the same thing. I'm a curious person and you are, too. I'm surprised you could sneak up on him without getting caught. He's got practically got superhuman hearing. But when he said he'd pulled the gun on you..." She shook her head. This time, it looked like she was plotting his murder. "He shouldn't have done that. Even Dad and Rosaline went at him for it."

I looked at her, debating whether or not to ask some questions. If I did, I was hoping she would answer them. It's not like I wanted information on why John had destroyed the da Vinci painting...because I was still hoping they would tell me without having to ask.

"So how many years are between you and John?" I asked, thinking it was a seemingly simple question. "How old is he really?"

Elena looked at me for a moment, a knowing smile on her face. Just what she was thinking, though, I had no idea. "He's twenty-four, twenty-five in September. I'm twenty-seven, two and a half years older. I try to make that known as much as I can. He's always believed he was the older of the two of us, thinking he knew more than I did. He's been that way ever since we were kids."

"And your parents?" I asked. Was that going a little too far, wanting to know about their parents? I mean, I briefly met their dad, Paul, the day before. As for Rosaline, I didn't think she was their mother. They called her by her first name and neither looked like her.

"Well, you met Dad. He's not always as...intense...as he was yesterday, though. He was kind of freaking out before you and John even got here with everything on the news. The two of them used to be a lot closer, but they're not so much anymore. Not for a few years now."

"And your mom?" I asked. She hadn't said anything about her.

Elena's lips pressed together as she closed her eyes, wincing slightly. It took her a moment, but then she looked at me. "She died four years ago in an accident."

I couldn't help my gasp. If I would have known, I wouldn't have asked about her. I didn't want to bring back bad memories...

"It's okay," she said, seeming to know I regretted asking. "It's been a while, so we're kind of past the shock of it. Yeah, we're still feeling her loss, but it's easier now than it was. Well, it's easier for me and Dad, but John..." She shook her head.

"John?"

"He blames himself for her death. He was with her, you see. He thinks it's his fault she's gone. He didn't do anything. It was dark and they were coming back from a party..." She paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "It was late and she was tired, but she insisted on driving instead of John. They drifted into the other lane and hit another head on. The driver of the other car walked away with nothing but a few scratches and bruises, but Mom died on impact.

"John was in a coma for a week in the hospital before he woke up. He got a huge gash on his back...from the twisted metal of the doorframe. It went from the top of his left shoulder all the way down to the base of his spine. They thought it had severed his spinal cord because he had no feeling in his legs when he woke up. They couldn't get much from the scans either because there was so much inflammation. It took a few days for the doctor's to see exactly what had happened. Luckily, it didn't hit his spine like they'd feared. After going to physical therapy for a few months, he was able to walk again. But the John there before...he was completely lost."