chapter 8
Love is a Battlefield
Laken
After a mouthwatering session of kisses down at Charity Lake, Wes and I return to Austen House where he insists on walking me to Jen’s haunted abode.
It would figure—right after I convinced him that I’ve been sleeping in Jen’s room this whole time, he most likely wants proof. So much for having a trusting relationship, although, in Wesley’s defense, it was me who lied.
We walk down into Austen’s bowels, through a cinderblock hallway, before landing in the housemother’s quarters.
How Jen can stand being holed up in this twisted lair is beyond me. I’m terrified being upstairs by myself where it’s opulent and scented with designer perfume, and here she is in a hovel, with the smell of mold thick in the air.
I give a gentle knock. “Are you decent?”
“Since when do you care?” Her voice carries through the wood, muffled, as I step inside and find her brushing her teeth. The room is oversized and boxy with the walls painted the dull brown of a paper bag.
Here it is, the split second I have to convince her to help me. If ever Jen was going to be a true sister to me—this was when I needed her most.
“Jen?” I sharpen my gaze until she ceases her rather violent scouring session. Here it goes. I need to hone in on those sisterly vibes and make it clear that my ass is on the line. I widen my eyes, round as wall clocks, and clear my throat. My relationship with Wes might very well end within a thirty-second time span if she inadvertently rats me out. “I want you to look Wes in the eye and tell him where I’ve spent the night these past three weeks.”
Jen holds out a finger. She spits in the sink and wipes her mouth with a towel.
“Austen House,” she says, making her way to the bed. Her long flannel gown, with its delicate print of cornflowers, reminds me of something my mother would wear. “Ask me something a little more challenging next time.”
Wes catches my gaze in the mirror. I can tell he’s not satisfied.
“Let’s just drop this, Laken.” He presses a kiss against my cheek.
“No,” I say. “Jen, where in Austen House have I been sleeping?”
Jen washes those pale eyes over me as if I’ve just done something heinous.
“Right here with me. We’ve slept toes to nose, and I’m ready to call HAZMAT over your lack of hygiene. Anything else?” She plucks a magazine from off the floor and leafs through the glossy pages.
Holy shit. I step away from Wes. I do believe Jenevieve Anderson just told her very first lie—and it was to protect me, her sister.
She scowls at us. “Would you guys mind holding off on the interrogation? I’m beyond exhausted. By the way, Wes, your brother is an ass in the truest form.”
Add cursing to her shortlist of brand new personality traits she’s developed this evening.
“I’d better go.” Wes presses out a humble smile.
I walk him back to the dank hall, and the lights dim before coming up full strength again.
“It’s like this whole place is haunted,” I whisper. “Hey”—I bite my lip and look up at him with all of the faux curiosity I can muster—“where did you think I was this whole time? You didn’t think I was secretly shacking up with Cooper or something?” I try to look aghast at the concept.
“I don’t know what I thought.” Wes lowers his gaze. He’s so consummately gorgeous, my dark knight, my best friend, and here I am feeding him barefaced lies. “Grayson was filling my head with a bunch of bullshit, and I must have been in the mood because I was taking it in as fast as she gave it.”
“Figures it was Grayson.” I shake my head. “I can’t wait until I graduate. Until we can move in together, until I can stop being your wife in spirit and take on the actual role.” I run my finger down his chest. “I love you so much, Wes. I would never want to hurt you.” I mean every single word.
Wes pulls me in tight and his chest pumps as if he’s shedding silent tears.
“I would never want to hurt you either, Laken.” He leans back and looks me right in the eye. “You’re my everything. I never want to lose you. I want to share the whole world with you—I want to share a lifetime—forever.”
I latch onto Wes, and we hold each other a very long time.
We’re going to love each other forever.
I just hope we’re together while doing so.
Once Wes takes off, I head back into the room with Jen to thank her for the spontaneous performance.
“I’m going to nominate you for an Oscar,” I say, slipping beside her on the bed.
“What the hell was that about?” She sits up, looking genuinely concerned but far more pissed.
“Well…” I shrug. “I can’t.” My voice cracks. The damn is going to burst if I let it, so I just press my lips together.
“Oh, Laken.” She scoots in and hitches a loose hair behind my ear. “You’ve been seeing Cooper again behind Wesley’s back, haven’t you?”
Just hearing Jen verbalize it makes it sound a million times worse than I thought it was.
“I’m vile. I’m filth,” I whisper. It feels good to confess it. “I’m—garbage.”
“No, sweetie!” Jen pulls me in and encapsulates me with a heartfelt embrace. I heave into her chest as tears dislodge that feel like they were years in the making. “You’re human, that’s all. Well, as human as we can get. You’re confused. Cooper is nice, and good looking, and strong—and he’s got great abs’ for God’s sake.”
“You’ve seen his abs?” I pull back to examine her.
“Yes, he struts around the gym with his shirt off like he’s allergic to cotton. He’s kind of hard not to notice. And Wes”—she takes up my hand—“Wes is your stronghold. You’ve been secretly in love with him for as long as I can remember.”
I glance down at the eyelet comforter. I’ll be the last person to tell Jen that just about all her memories of me are fresh on the scene—a total work of fiction by some evil mastermind. Nor will I be informing her that I have another sister named Jen in some alternate reality even though, oddly, Dr. Flanders was able to prove that this one, right here, is genetically related to me.
“You have to follow your heart, Laken.” She gives my hand a squeeze.
“And what if my heart doesn’t know what it wants?”
“It will.” She assures. Just like my heart knows it wants Blaine.
I groan inwardly at her silent proclamation.
Sometimes we don’t know what’s good for us.
Which one is good for me—Wes or Coop?
My heart says both. And I have a feeling, just like Jen, my heart is about to lead me down a path of total destruction.
The next day, in the desperate hours of the evening while Wes and I try to entertain ourselves in the library, I get a text from Coop.
Wes points to my phone spinning on the marble counter.
I’m so freaking stupid I left it out in plain sight, after I took off my jacket.
I boldly hold it out in front of the two of us as if I have nothing to hide. Even though Coop and me went through an entire litany of things that we need to do in order to protect our plan, cell phones and their myriad of uses were never even an afterthought.
Results are in.
Shit.
I glance up at Wes. “I guess it’s time. We’ll know if Hattie is a human or a Fem in just a few minutes.”
I text him back. What is it?
Come over. I can pick you up.
Wes frowns as he peers at Coop’s prompt reply.
“Can we go?” Maybe if I include Wes, I can win back his trust.
He looks around at the dead zone we’re stuck in for the next few hours.
“I’ll get one of the guys from the back to cover our shift.” He pulls his cheek to the side and his dimple flexes. “Do you need to warn Coop that I’m coming?”
“Why would I need to warn him? Are you planning an assault?” I tease with more hostility than necessary. “I’ll call Flynn and have him meet us there. He’ll want to know this, too.”
“Flynn?” His dark brows pitch with surprise.
“Yes, you don’t think I’ve been running around alone with Coop this whole time do you? Flynn’s been in on this since the beginning. Why do you think he’s been so nice to her?”
Wes opens his mouth then closes it while looking over my shoulder.
I turn to find Hattie staring me down with her dead eyes, that soulless expression that says, I eat mortals for breakfast.
Wes gives my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll get someone, so we can take off.”
I wait until he moves to the back before texting Coop.
Got a ride. See you soon. I’d fill him in that I’m bringing company, but with my luck Wes will see my “warning.”
I step over to Hattie. The gloves are off—I’m through with the niceties.
“What do you want?” I snip.
“Where’s my friend?”
“Monsters like you have friends?” I hold back a laugh at the thought. I don’t need some simple blood test to confirm what I already know is true. The Hattie Tobias that stands before me is no more human than a potted houseplant.
That sterile look in her eyes dissipates, and I swear she just flickered an emotion—pain.
“Flynn,” she says his name and nothing else.
“I’m ready to roll.” Wes wraps an arm around my waist, and we head out the door.
It’s time to prove that Hattie the Fake is nothing but a lying Fem. And, once Wes sees I’m right about this, he’ll see I’m right about everything else.
I hope.
Cooper
The wind blows the autumn leaves around the front yard, creating a red and orange tornado. The branches of the maple scrape against the window like an animal trying to claw its way inside.
An all too familiar Range Rover pulls into the driveway, and my blood turns to ice.
“Is Laken here?” Marky calls from the kitchen. She’s been baking cookies for my “date,” and now Laken brought someone entirely different to eat them with.
“Yeah, I think so.” My stomach drops like a stone. I should brace Marky, coach her on what to say and what not to say—lock her in her bedroom—but Wes and Laken have already sprung up to the porch, and I open the door without bothering to wait for them to knock.
Wes huffs a quiet laugh at my overeagerness. I’m a fool if I think he’s not onto us—that he doesn’t have the upper hand like he does with everything else. And I hope to God, he doesn’t have it with Laken.
“Come in,” I say, holding the screen open for them.
“Smells like heaven,” Wes chirps. “You bake those for me, cupcake?” He gives a playful wink in my direction, and the urge to sock him in the nuts goes up tenfold.
“Who’s this?” Marky appears next to me with a spatula frozen midair. Her tiny brown eyes are already filling with grief.
Laken swallows hard. “This is Wesley.” Her voice shakes. “He’s my boyfriend, Marky. He’s really nice.”
Shit. She’s pulling out all the stops.
I take Marky and spin her back in the direction of the kitchen.
“Hey, shortstop.” I press a kiss over her head, walking her the hell away from Wes.
“What does she mean he’s her boyfriend?” Marky’s lips quiver with a resolute sadness as if all her sisterly dreams of Laken becoming a part of the family have been pulled from underneath her.
“Laken likes him, too,” I whisper. No use in offering her false hope anymore than she’s already been privy to. “But he’s sort of an ass.”
Marky looks past my shoulder at the two of them and shoots Wes the stink eye.
“He looks fake,” she whispers. “I can already tell he’s not as nice as you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m one of a kind.” I give her shoulder a squeeze as Marky and her fragile heart slink back into the kitchen.
“Rumor has it you have the results.” Wes darts a suspicious glance around the room as if I’ve jammed the place with ninjas ready and willing to take him out once his guard is down.
“Results are in the office,” I say it low, sad. Laken’s right. I can’t let my emotions or anybody else’s, ruin her ability to get into the Celestra tunnels. Lives are at stake. And once we set them free, an entire river of truth will be unleashed, including whom Laken really wants to be with. Deep down inside I’m hoping I’m that person, but realistically I don’t even know if she considers me a contender.
I lead us back and give a knock to the office door before the three of us step inside.
“Wesley.” Dad gives a placid smile. He’s got on his thick cable sweater, his oversized glasses that frame his face like cartoon outlines. “Nice to see you. Nice to see you, too, Laken. Please, take a seat.”
I pull out a chair for Laken and Wes, before leaning against the wall.
“I don’t know the results,” I say, grazing Laken with a glance. “I wanted to find out with you—the both of you.” I add that last part for the safekeeping of my balls.
“It’s curious.” Dad looks over the notes as if they were written in hieroglyphics.
“What’s that?” I peer over his shoulder. I wouldn’t mind speeding up the process, especially since I left Marky in cookie distress. Wesley is pretty much screwing things up all around.
“This girl, Hattie”—Dad glances up at me before reverting to Laken—“she’s a purebred Celestra.”
The room stills. Laken and I exchange a quick look.
“So…” Dad relaxes back in his chair. “No particular monsters here. Her DNA has all of the required human markings and then some. She’s definitely one of us—a Nephilim through and through.”
“I guess there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Laken sinks in her seat.
I know for a fact if Wes weren’t in the room, this conversation would be a hell of a lot more animated.
“Nothing to be afraid of,” Dad echoes.
“Not true,” Wes counters. His jaw clenches as he takes us in. “Celestra is always the enemy.” He turns to face Laken in full. “Did she threaten you? Do you think she was trying to hurt you?”
“No. I just thought she was creepy.” Laken touches her hand to her chest. I have a feeling Wes is going to take this down a path I don’t want him to.
“I’ll dig in deep and find out everything I can about this Hattie girl,” he says with a sense of bravado designed to make Laken feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
And there it is. Once Wes dives in and discovers two dead Tobias sisters with the same face, it’ll make him wonder what the hell is going on like the rest of us.
“No, please don’t.” She’s quick to stop him. “Flynn is doing that. In fact, when she came to the library tonight, she was looking for him.”
“That’s funny,” I say mostly to myself. “He wasn’t in class today or football practice. He hasn’t missed a practice ever, not even the day after Casper went missing.”
I pluck out my phone and stare at the bizarre text he sent last night.
H me
“He sent this while we were at the restaurant.” I show the phone to the three of them.
“H me?” Laken looks perplexed.
“Help me.” Dad nods up at me. “Sounds like your friend, Flynn, found himself in hot water.”
Shit.
Laken looks up at me and swallows hard because she knows exactly what this means.
We need to find Flynn, like yesterday.
Wes hardens his glare in my direction. He’s observed one too many secret glances between Laken and me. His body language alone clues me in on the fact I might be the next one to disappear.
Wes smirks. “He probably partied too hard and ended up in a different state entirely.”
I give a sober nod at Wesley’s almost plausible explanation.
More like another state of being.
“I wouldn’t be too worried.” Wes pats Laken on the knee. “He probably forgot what day it was. He’s functioning on half a brain.”
If the Spectators have anything to do with it—he won’t have a brain at all.
Laken insists we conduct a manhunt in the woods that line Ephemeral, which I wouldn’t have minded so much if she also hadn’t insisted on dragging Wesley along with us. The fact it’s near thirty degrees, and dark as hell didn’t seem to detour her either. Laken is dead-set on regaining Wesley’s trust. Not that I blame her. We have everything on the line if she loses it.
The woods snarl around us as the ground clouds hiss and swirl with our every step.
“Flynn had taken Hattie out here more than a couple times.” Laken shoots me a look.
I know what she’s thinking—we should keep all mention of our Spectator expeditions close to the vest. Wesley’s orders were to kill them, not resurrect them one by miserable one.
“We should get Hattie.” Wes turns toward Ephemeral without missing a beat.
“No,” I say. “I doubt she had anything to do with this.” Not only that, but I’m worried she might spout off about trying to find the Tobias clan and why. The less Wes knows, the better.
Laken steps over roots that sprout from the ground, thick as dinosaur tails. I wish it were just Laken and me—that it was Wes the Spectators ate for dinner last night and not Flynn. I shake my head at the thought. I don’t really want Wes dead. I just want Laken. But she’s in too deep. Her old life clouds her vision of this new reality, and I may never win her heart, God knows, Wes will never surrender his post.
We head deeper into the maze of the forest, and the path leading back to campus dissolves in a tangle of murky shadows. The cedars and pines interlock sharp as knives until it’s almost impossible to move any further.
“We’re going to get disoriented.” Wes slips his arm around Laken’s waist without thinking about it. The bastard doesn’t even know how lucky he is to have her, to touch her so easily whenever the hell he feels the need. “Coop”—he nods over to me—“you thinking what I’m thinking?”
I was thinking it hours ago, but I don’t call Wes out on being slow on the uptake. He probably thought the same thing, too.
“Yeah, man, I am.”
“What?” Laken looks horrified. “You think they took him?” She draws her hands over her mouth. “You think he’s dead don’t you?” She closes her eyes, and an entire stream of white fog swirls from her mouth.
“It’s not looking good,” I say.
Laken steps away from the two of us and bows her head in sorrow.
I don’t give a shit about Wes and his imaginary line in the sand. Instead, I go over and take up her hand.
“Everything happens for a reason, Laken,” I say pulling her in. Get Wes out of here. I’ll get Hattie and see what I can find. Flynn is a Count. He has a fighting chance if he’s dead, remember?
“You’re right,” she whispers, glancing down at our interlocked fingers. What if they bit him? What then? Laken’s silver eyes shimmer in this dull light.
I don’t know. I shake my head just enough. There’s always Ezrina.
She killed Pearl—twice.
She’ll improve her method. I’m quick to point out. I can only hope it’s true.
It had better be true. Laken turns back to Wes and gasps.
I twist around to find a large looming shadow standing directly behind him.
I recognize those long speared horns, that misshapen head, the body of a man, the face of an ox—Asterion.
Looks like Flynn might not be the only one in need of a resurrection in the very near future.
Wesley
The forest sizzles and snaps around me. A shadow lingers over my shoulder, thick and smothering as a blanket.
Laken seizes. Coop holds out a finger for me to stand still.
A weighted hand crashes over my shoulder, dirty with hair covering the back like an animal.
“Shit.” I close my eyes a moment because I know what’s coming, what’s already here—a Fem, ready and willing to distribute an ass kicking. “Get Laken out of here.” I say it low and careful so as not to incite the creature any sooner than necessary.
Coop keeps his eyes focused on whatever lies behind me. He picks up a stick from the ground and hands it to Laken without taking his eyes off the beast.
“Run.” He roars it out as a command, but Laken doesn’t move.
Coop swipes a knife from his pocket and holds it low against his thigh.
It’s nice to know that neither of them listens to logic and reason when times get tough.
My legs kick out from underneath me. My torso is caught in the air before I ever have a chance to hit the ground. The world spins. I rise to the uppermost branches of the evergreens and look down to find a Minotaur just like the one standing proud in the middle of campus. He looks up at me with his fiery red eyes, his body gleaming like burnished bronze, his feet glow orange like molten steel.
“F*ck.” It comes out with far more fear than I ever anticipated. I’ve never been a fan of Asterion. Truth be told, he’s scared the shit out of me a time or two, and this just so happens to be one of them.
Coop backs up and tackles the beast by the legs, buckling it at the knees from behind, and I fly forward, catching myself on the skeletal branches of a birch. My face and arms get scratched to hell in the process.
I hit the ground with a thud, and the wind knocks out of me by way of my already cracked ribs. If I didn’t know better, I’d think those damn Olivers paid the Fem to inflict a little extra damage.
“Shit,” I seethe, trying to get my bearings as I struggle to my feet. “Laken?” I turn to find her a good distance away on the other side of Coop and the beast.
Cooper staggers from the creature only to have it reach out and yank him back like a ragdoll.
“Wes!” Laken screams in a panic.
Asterion snatches Coop by the ankle and swings him like a baseball bat against the fat trunk of a pine. Coop holds out both arms to deflect the blow, and something cracks, loud as a snapping branch.
Shit. I limp my way over.
It slams Coop down over the floor, and his head bounces like a melon.
F*ck. I watch in horror as Coop lets out a groan, his face bloodied along one side.
Just one more blow, and things could get fatal. My heart thumps as my feet nail themselves into the dirt. This could prove to be a lethal jaunt in the woods for Coop, and I wouldn’t have to worry anymore about Laken. A wall of fog enwreathes me as my breathing becomes erratic.
“Wes, do something!” Laken howls it out over the expanse, and her voice echoes for miles.
My legs carry me to the towering menace, and I pause. Laken etches herself in my mind. The image of the two of them holding hands a few moments ago reverberates like a heartbeat.
“You f*cking ass.” Laken looks right at me before diving in low and taking out the creature’s legs.
I run over to help and trip on a root, landing on my busted rib. The air expels from my lungs in one quick push. The world warps and bends as I try to get up without passing out.
The beast lands on the forest floor. All I see from this vantage point is the bottom of Laken’s boot traveling in a half-circle as she lands a kick in the creature’s nose. It bucks and grunts as she comes back down over the top of its head with her elbow.
Asterion rears its head and lets out a roar that mimics a freight train screeching to a halt. It tries to rise, but Laken proceeds with her assault and skewers it through the eye with the stick in her hand. She plunges the branch so far into its skull she piths the creature.
It staggers to its feet. It bucks and seizes like its about to explode before tipping forward.
“Coop!” Laken screams, dragging him out of the bullseye just as the beast flops down to earth.
“Good job,” I whisper, limping my way over to where she’s cradling Coop’s head in her lap. She’s rocking him, touching her hand to his forehead, telling him everything is going to be all right. And despite all the drama, the hostile aggression, a small shallow part of me still boils with jealousy.
Laken helps Coop to his feet and slings his arm around her shoulder. He’s banged up as hell but still manages a painful smile.
Coop lets out a breath. “You okay, man?” He gives me a once over while fresh blood tunnels down from his temple.
“I’m fine.” Just hurts like hell to breathe or move. “Let’s get you to the hospital and get you checked out.” I make my way over and try to lift his arm over my shoulder, but Laken moves him just out of reach.
“I’ve got him, Wes,” she hisses. Laken needles me with a look that could saw my body in half with its laser precision.
The two of them hobble on ahead as I try to keep up.
Laken knows I hesitated.
The only thing worse than watching Cooper Flanders almost get killed was wanting it to happen on some level, waiting. And that’s exactly what I did.
I doubt Laken will ever forgive me.
I watch as they carefully walk around the minefield of tree roots, Laken with her arm around his waist.
She saved him.
And now they’re closer than ever.
By seven in the evening the entire school is overrun with every local authority, including two different news crews.
Laken and I huddle under a blanket while sitting on the steps in the foyer of Austen House. An ambulance took Coop away. You’d think Laken were going to self-destruct the way she insisted on going with him, but they wouldn’t let her leave school grounds without a permission slip from her parents. Of course Jen called her uncle and he insisted on driving down.
“Jones should be here any minute.” Jen shifts from one foot to another. “I don’t like this.” She shivers, warming her arms with her hands. “First Casper, now Flynn?” Her forehead wrinkles as she takes in the explosion of red and blue lights flashing outside the window.
“I’m sure he’ll turn up,” I offer weakly. Freaking Flynn.
“Wesley?” Kres bounds through the door in her tennis garb with a pink band in her hair twisted to the side. “Oh my God, I ran all the way here.” She lunges at me, wrapping her arms around my neck.
Instinctively, I hold my breath until she lets go. My entire right side throbs with pain from the unwanted encounter.
“What happened?” Kres snaps while searing her hatred over Laken.
“Flynn happened,” I say, trying to breathe in small increments.
“Flynn got lost in the forest.” Laken’s eyes glaze over as she glances out the window. She looks miserable—afraid, as if she were seeing wickedness spread over the forest like a plague. “He’ll be back. They’ve just got to find him.”
Kres postures herself in defiance. A crowd gathers as the girls pepper each other with questions concerning the ruckus brewing outside.
Kres scoffs into Laken. “Don’t you think it’s strange that as soon as you set foot on campus all sorts of weird shit starts to happen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Laken hangs her head in frustration as if maybe she does.
“Well, for one, you stole Wes.”
Laken gags as she tries to get the words out to somehow refute this.
“Nobody stole anybody,” I say it curt and expend all of my breathing capacity in the process.
“It doesn’t surprise me at all that you’d make this about you.” Laken closes her eyes a moment.
Kres scoffs. “No sooner do you room with Casper, and she takes off—now her brother’s done the same?” She ticks her head back a notch while Grayson and Fallon come in on either side of her like a pair of bitter bookends.
Laken springs to her feet. I try to snatch her back, but my ribs suspend the effort. She stands toe to toe with Kres, and already I know this isn’t going to end well.
“First, you are so naïve to think I stole Wes from you.” She jabs her finger in Kresley’s chest. “Get it straight. He walked away, bitch.”
Shit. I give a little laugh. Laken’s feisty side makes me love her that much more.
“Second”—Laken continues, backing Kres slowly toward the exit—“I’m the only one around here who truly cares that Casper is missing, and I knew her all of five minutes. I’m guessing the same is true for Flynn.”
“You make me want to vomit.” Kres spits hard in her face, and Laken recoils pushing her hand in her eye.
It takes all of my strength to pull myself up by the railing.
“You think you’re so innocent.” Kres mocks. “I heard you’re doing Coop on the side. You hear that, Wes?” Kres twists to look past her shoulder at me.
But I’m not interested in anything Kresley has to say. What I am interested in is the fact Laken is eying a cobalt vase that sits tall and heavy on the entry table.
She reaches over, and in one swift move hurls it at Kres.
Kres ducks like a ninja, and for once I’m thrilled to f*cking pieces regarding her athletic abilities. That vase had felony assault written all over it.
The vase slams against the wall and shatters into a million blue shards just as the door opens to a rather surprised, and notably shaken, Jones.
Perfect.
I believe the last words I shared with him were, Laken is feeling much better now—followed up with, I’ve got everything under control.
There’s no way I’m letting him in on the fact she’s siphoning off Cooper Flanders’ neck. And there’s no way I’m telling him she singlehandedly slaughtered a Fem the size of a Mack truck while on the lookout for yet another one of her missing friends.
Nope.
Jones inspects the mess on the floor then shifts his focus to his niece.
I’m not going to have to lie and tell him that Laken is functioning at an optimal prime—not one memory out of place, not one emotional outburst.
I think he’s seen enough evidence for himself.
Jen calls housekeeping to clean what she deemed the “glass apocalypse” and ushered all the girls into the common room to watch a movie, so no one gets a sliver lodged in their foot.
Jones follows Laken and me into the kitchen, away from the anxious bevy of girls, while Jen tries to subdue the masses.
“What keeps happening at this damn school?” Jones hisses at me as if I were personally responsible. His shoulders expand wide as a gate as he pants from the trauma of seeing the place lit up like a crime scene.
“We think our friend, Flynn, is lost,” Laken offers.
His chest pumps dramatically. Jones wraps his arms around Laken and pulls her in, pecking the top of her head with a quiet kiss.
“Let’s hope that’s all it is.” His deep voice rumbles over her. “You didn’t go into those woods did you?”
Laken glances over at me. “Only a little. We tried to look for him. Then we came out and called the police.”
“Damn it, Wes,” he snaps. “How many times do I have to make it clear, you’re to make sure she doesn’t get anywhere near that damn forest.”
Laken goes rigid in his arms. She frees herself and pants as if she were about to have a breakdown.
“Did you make Wes my keeper?” She breathes the words out as if the idea were reprehensible. “Did you tell him to watch over me like I’m some three-year-old?”
“No.” He steps forward. “Laken, I only have your best interests at heart. I would never want you to get hurt. And your head—” His eyes widen as he takes in a gash I hadn’t noticed myself until now. “You have a cut just above your brow.” He turns to me, trying to mitigate his anger before it erupts all over the damn place.
“I’m fine.” Laken takes a step back. “My head doesn’t hurt at all. I just scraped it against a branch.” She touches her forehead and looks into the black glass of the oven to inspect the damage. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like a hot shower.” She tenderly hugs her uncle goodbye.
Odd. Last time Jones was here, she expressed how repulsed she was having him show affection when she could hardly remember him. And now here she is wrapping her arms around him voluntarily, touching her cheek to his chest.
Jones closes his eyes a moment as if he were savoring it.
“I don’t mind one bit. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow and see how you’re doing.” He gently picks up her chin with his index finger. “Remember, I’m just a phone call away. Nothing can keep me away from my children.”
Children? I guess it’s true in a way. He’s been there for Laken, Fletch, and Jen, more than their parents have.
“Got it.” She hikes up on the balls of her feet and kisses him on the cheek before breezing out of the room. Laken doesn’t bother with a wave or nod in my direction—just disappears from sight. Probably still ticked about the fact I almost escorted Flanders to the pearly gates myself.
I really f*cked up good this time.
The whole room drains of its energy when Laken takes off.
“What do you have to say for yourself?” Jones does his best to zero his skyrocketing hostility on yours truly.
“She does what she wants. She didn’t get hurt. The cut must of come from a branch like she said.”
Jones knots up my T-shirt and drives me back toward the fridge. I wince as he knocks me against the stainless steel surface—with my body already on fire.
“I told you once before—watch her like she was your wife. You don’t let her out of your sight.” He bears his weight over me as his breathing grows erratic. “The only reason I brought her here was because I knew you would lay your life down if she were in danger—and you let her go after that thing?” He slams me against the metal so hard, my head vibrates like a cymbal.
“Shit,” I whisper as the walls blur around me.
“We had an arrangement. One more misstep and both you and your father are going to pay a visit to the Justice Alliance.” He drops me to the floor like a sack of shit on fire as he storms out the room. “You’re losing her, Wes. Do whatever it takes to win her back. You owe it to me, kid. You owe it to Laken. I rearranged the world so you could be together.”
What the heck is he talking about? I haven’t talked to my father in months. And why the hell is he threatening us with the Justice Alliance?
He’s f*cking on something.
I find his words far more disturbing than the odd wrestling moves he chose to employ.
I rearranged the world so you could be together.
It echoes through my mind like a gunshot.