deadly nightshade | fever in, fever out

prologue

"I need to get out of here."
She watched the waves move in from Lake Elsinore from underneath her porch. The city by the lake that she had grown up in and loved so much had proven to be one to feel like a chokehold on her. The hot California sun beat down on her feathery jet black hair: within time, it would prove to be too hot and uncomfortable to even so much as have a drink for herself there. And she would have to resort back to that hot house with the kids and also Bill.
The lake appeared cold and glassy, even with the gentle breeze from the mountains across the way. A thought ran through her mind, one that told her to go down to the waters for a little swim.
Her name was Samantha. She walked about the streets with her handbag down below her belt and a look on her face that made one think of a mad woman in the attic. She had her brushes in the front pocket there and a handful of paints in the neighboring pocket, and she managed to cover it all up with her wedding band and the fact she was a mother all the while.
She had returned there about six months before. It was kind of the odd move to return to the other side of the country when she had everything going for her back in New York City.
She was the kind of person a passerby would see and never ask her of anything pertaining to her art. Sam Shelley was everyone's mom, not everyone's artist, especially upon returning to the West Coast, even as she took a seat on the beach to paint whatever came to mind. It was the only way she could relax away from the marriage that was crumbling before her very eyes and the two children she felt disconnected from—they weren't even hers to begin with anyway, especially since they lacked her olive complexion courtesy of the Mediterranean.
She had met Bill on one side of New York City, away from their wondering eyes, and thus she could never tell them about him. And she could never tell him about the two of them.
And yet the Big Apple was where everything had come to fruition for her. Those two guys were the cherry on top for her.
For the past couple of weeks, she wished to leave the Golden Empire behind and run off to New York State and be closer to the two of them. Her "bad boyfriends", as she called them. She smiled at the thought of both of them. The way in which she met the two of them almost felt like that of a fairy tale. They both seemed like opposites to one another when she thought about even so much as sitting in between them.
The one to her left with his jet black curls down past his shoulders and his large brown eyes. He seemed like the kind of country boy that she would bring home to her parents, complete with the lopsided grin and the slight drawl to his voice. And yet, he struck her as mysterious. He was the kind of guy no one really knew about until they got to talking to him, that is if they garnered the gumption to even do that for him. Sam always saw it as like a young girl walking up to a dark shadowy creature and saying hello to it. He was the older of the three, too, and thus one would wonder if she only vouched for him because he had more money than her. But he didn't: Sam volunteered to foot their first bill together because the label neglected to pay him out enough.
The one on her right had the same issue, given his band didn't have much, either. Meanwhile, he was the youngest of the three, even though the rich shock of pale gray hair at the crown of his dark head told a different story. He, too, struck Sam as mysterious, given he stood out from a crowd. Where the other had his hands down in the earth, he had the heart of a poet. She could paint while he jammed away on those six strings right behind her. An artist to another artist.
And yet the three of them remained hidden from the world, and hidden from her family. A little safe spot for herself that had no other way out to the outside world. She vowed to keep it a secret and nothing more than that for herself.
She moved about like that of a serpent in the jungle when she even so much as thought of their names. A snake in the grass waiting to twine around her prey, not to swallow them whole, but to hide underground with them. They were hers for the taking, more so than Bill.
She opened her eyes to witness the hot summer sun beating down on her face and on the rail before her. She needed to escape from California somehow.
To break away from it all and trade in between her boys, because they didn't know much about each other, either.
She doubled back into their house, where she was met with a sharp drop in heat, despite it being the sun room. Sam needed to be down by the water, to paint and then submerge beneath the surface. Matilda and Cassie were still at school and Bill would not be back home for another hour. The perfect time to do just that for herself.
Sam stepped into her bedroom for a change into her shorts and nothing more than a bikini top. There was a day in which she wore that exact outfit around the one on the right, and he showed her the twinkle within his deep set eyes. That was probably the same day where he gave her a photo of himself. She noticed the framed photograph of herself and Bill on their wedding day, but she had no idea where she had put that little photo.
It was small, about the size of a postage stamp. The thought of losing it somewhere in that house made her heart skip a few beats.
The one on the left had given her a photo as well, but at least she knew where she had tucked that away at.
Once she had covered up her breasts with the blue and yellow polka dotted top, she knelt down before the nightstand on her side of the bed. There were three drawers right before her face. The first one was empty, while the second had a Bible, an accompanying rosary, and her black onyx jewelry box inside of it. The third drawer, meanwhile, she never opened once until that moment. She slid it open and was met with a pile of old papers. She shuffled through a few of them until she found a little piece of paper the size of a postage stamp near the bottom.
She turned it over to see him. She recognized those bright stripes of silver at the crown of his head, and his handsome oval face and aquiline nose. The last time she had seen him, he had a little tummy coming in, but right there, he was still quite slim and delicate.
"There you are, Alex," she whispered to herself; the reason why she had tucked it away there eluded her. The other one she had hid away in her jewelry box, and thus she found him there once she had opened it up.
"Hi, Joey," she whispered to his lush black curls and those soft brown eyes gazing back at her.
Sam was alone for the time being. Even after tying the knot and taking in two children as if they were her own, she was still that bad girl that the two of them knew so well. She could still feel their touch and feel their lips on her own.
She tucked the one of Alex into the left side of her top, right against her skin. The one of Joey went into the right one. Her paints and brushes were in the next room over.
The afternoon was just getting started for her.