He gives a bleak smile.
“It wasn’t a Fem,” he says out of breath. “You killed him, Skyla, and now we’re going to wash the blood off.”
He plunges us both into the icy biting waters.
Chapter Eleven
Police
The smoky air illuminates in spasms with alternating shades of soft blue and red. With an escort of flashing black and whites—an entire army of police cars—each one of us is instructed to follow them down to the Paragon precinct for questioning. Dozens of vehicles commence in a line that clogs up the main artery of the island—they even shut down the other side of the highway to accommodate us.
“There are two ways we can do this,” Logan says, over the phone.
I’m riding with Gage, but I have Logan on speaker.
“The truth and a lie?” Gage says running his hand over the steering wheel as we wade through traffic.
“Exactly,” Logan states.
“I choose the lie.” I raise my hand slightly. “It’s not like anybody saw me, plus I’m dripping wet, there’s not an ounce of blood on me. And it’s not like anybody’s going to understand what the hell I’m talking about when I say I thought I was being attacked by a Fem.”
“If I saw him attacking you, I would have killed him myself,” Logan adds.
“Right,” I whisper. I sort of wish he did. “Maybe we should hang up now. With my luck this will accidently get keyed in over the radio,” I say, eyeing the barrage of cop cars escorting us like a funeral procession.
“See you there,” Logan’s line goes dead.
I slip down in the seat and watch the fog swim by like an apparition.
“It’s gonna be OK.” Gage cups his hand over mine.
“Is it?” I spike up hopeful. Gage has the gift of knowing. He knows all kinds of strange things about the future.
“No, I mean, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be OK.”
“Oh.”
I slump back into my seat.
I don’t think it’s going to be OK. I don’t think you can just kill somebody and have it be OK.
***
At the station, mass confusion erupts over who exactly the dead body was. Apparently a bunch of guys from East decided to crash the party and douse themselves in mud, because apparently, they’re idiots.
I hear names whispered all the way down the long hall as Logan, Gage, and I try and find a place to sit.
“Logan Oliver?” I hear Michelle say as we come up behind her. She turns around and lunges at him with a hug, Lexy follows suit.
“We heard it was you!” Lexy cries in a panic. Her arm lingers up over his shoulder as she cups the side of his face.
“Wasn’t me.” He turns a bright shade of red from the attention.
Lexy’s hair has turned into a giant ball of frizz, her mascara is dripping down the sides of her cheeks and she looks darn right scary. I don’t like the way she’s letting her arm gather dust on Logan’s shoulder, so I squeeze in between the two of them pretending to get out of the way of the crowd.
I’ve never thought of Lexy as anything special before. Sure she’s pretty in her own way, but I’ve always classified her as more of a bitch than anything human or female.
“Anyway…” She looks over my shoulder at him as though I were invisible. “I’m glad you’re OK.”
I can see it now, that sad underlying spark in her eyes wishing he was still with her, and it makes me want to vomit on her shoes.
The clock ticks away in morbid slow motion. They have four staging areas set up. We wait impatiently until they finally seat Logan, Gage, and me in a room with the bitch squad where we wait another twenty minutes. Michelle keeps nodding off, hitting her head against the back wall from exhaustion. Strangely, I find this the highlight of my evening. I watch her eyes bolt open as she inhales a scream—all the while that black rose gleams under the harsh light from above.
A woman officer with her hair pulled back in a shiny dark knot asks banal questions about our connection to one another, the party, the location of where each of us were before the body was discovered.
Logan was plucking Gage off some guy from East, the bitch squad was swimming under the third tower of the falls, and I was wandering out by the forest with my hands buried deep in someone’s neck. Of course that’s not what I say.
“I was over there, too,” I say in a whisper, “by the falls.”
“No you weren’t.” Michelle moans half asleep. “I saw you by yourself. You were all dirty wearing some guy’s shirt with weeds in your hair. Cheating on Gage much?”
Great. She’s perfectly lucid now.
“So why were you dirty, and whose shirt did you have on?” The officer makes a notation in her journal.
“Well, let’s see…” Emily bears her canines in my direction. Her dark hair has shrunk four inches and sits on her head like a slimy black helmet. It’s hard to imagine Emily with long flowing hair the way Chloe described. “You’ve got on a guy’s t-shit, and Logan is shirtless under his jacket, which is hot, but weird, and, oh yeah? Weren’t you with Logan before you hooked up with Gage?” She dips her finger in her mouth. Her emerald eyes light up from the pleasure of it all.
“That’s right.” I cut her a long hard look before turning my attention back to the officer. “I was…” My eyes close. I can’t look at Gage—Gage who is holding me right at this very moment, nudging me to go on. I’m not going to smash his heart into a million little pieces, in a room full of people, just to save myself from the possibility of prison. And with that reality looming, I say, “I was naked, and I ran into Logan, so he gave me his shirt. Then he took off, and I fell in a puddle. That’s when I saw you.” I nod over to Michelle. “And then everyone started running around, and the next thing I knew, some jerk pushed me in the water.”
Logan raises a brow over at me.
There. I give a big sigh of relief. It feels safe here in the lie, so good. I recline into Gage and relax.
“OK.” The female officer taps her pen down on the table. “Now I’m going to have each of you phone your parents, and then you’ll be released.”
Shit.
I knew this wasn’t going to end well.
***
The bitch squad disbands pretty quickly. Turns out none of their parents wanted to crawl out of bed at three in the morning, dead body or not. I was able to hear Michelle’s dad scream over the phone that he wanted her ass home pronto.
Of course, my mother insists on coming down herself to see what all this debauchery is about. And since Dr. Oliver gave Logan and Gage the OK to drive home, they hang out until we hear the wild ruckus, which is undoubtedly Mom and Tad, erupting in the hall.
My mother frantically pokes her head into the room.
“She’s in here,” she shouts. Before I know it, her arms are squeezing the life out of me. “God! You’re OK! I’m so glad you’re OK.” She runs her fingers through my hair. “You’re wet.”
“You two jokers,” Tad jabs his fingers at Logan and Gage. “Get out now.”
“See you later.” Logan pats my leg as he and Gage disappear into the hall.
“What the hell is going on? You kill somebody?” Tad asks, gripped in a purple-faced tirade. He’s wearing pink and white pinstriped pajamas, so it’s hard to take him seriously.
“No.” Technically yes.
“Let’s get out of here.” Mom tries to pluck me off the bench just as Tad steps between us, examining me with a curious stare.
“Lizbeth, go get her cleared with the front desk. I’ll stay here.” His eyes remain locked on mine. Soon as she steps over the threshold he yanks down my scarf.
“Holy shit!” He jumps back. It takes him a full three seconds to catch his breath. “I don’t know what the hell kind of satanic crap you’ve managed to get yourself into, or if this is some new dress in black, stick an earring through every orifice in your body to piss off your parents stage you’re going through, but while you’re under my roof you’re going to
knock this shit off. You can save this experimental phase for college for all I care. Got it?”
I pull the scarf back up to cover the tiny neat row of X’s that skip across my neck.
He thinks it’s some kind of weird piercing I’ve inflicted upon myself.
“If I see you prancing around with your face made up like a corpse, wearing thigh-high boots and your hair frozen up like the Statue of Liberty, I’m shipping you off to nearest boarding school.” He adjusts the invisible tie on his nightshirt in a fit of frustration. “They can deal with you,” he mutters mostly to himself.
My mouth falls open. Mom swoops back in and helps usher me into the hall. Something tells me Tad would love for me to be at that boarding school anyway.
He speeds down ahead of us, pushes the door to the precinct open so hard the glass considers shattering from the violent jolt. A frigid blast of air pours over me, reminds me with its bitter fingers that my hair is still wet in the back.
“And that boy you’re seeing?” His face ignites with color. “That ends tonight!”
Chapter Twelve
Sorrow
His name was Holden.
I carefully peel back another page of Chloe’s diary, trying to push away the idea that I was responsible for removing a soul from this planet—that a family was locked in grief over something I had done.
August 7th,
Gage is SO mine. We talked for HOURS at a party, then walked down the road and sat under the stars. I love the fact we can talk about all this angel crap. It’s such a relief to talk to someone nice, who’s not going to go all psycho or octopus on me any second. I swear Ellis is like some hormonal grenade. Just being near him is enough to pull the pin. Anyway, I think Gage and me are about to have a breakthrough. Something about tonight tells me that we’ve turned a corner in our relationship. I’m going to give him something. I don’t know what, but something special that he’ll always have just from me.
Oh, and Lexy the liar reneged on her offer, looks like binding Fems is not in my future. No surprise there.
Lexy is going to have to learn the hard way that paybacks a bitch.
August 11th,
I had three late night conversations with Gage that lingered into the wee hours of the morning. I can tell he’s just about ready to take that next step. I told him I wanted to have a picnic down by the dunes this weekend and he said YES! I can’t wait. Come September when school starts, we’ll totally be together. I can feel it.
A light knock erupts at my door. My mother peers in and gives an uneasy smile.
“There’s someone down here to see you.”
***
I follow close behind as she leads me to the kitchen. Tad is there with his arms folded tight, staring down Gage like he’s some kind of fugitive.
“Skyla?” Tad’s eyes oval out like two giant eggs. “I’d like to talk to you alone a moment,” he says ushering me out to the back patio.
The sun is already starting to set, and it’s just barely after four. I rub my hands up over my bare arms as the chill grips me.
“I want to take this opportunity to make it clear that...” His words get strangled in his throat as he points hard back towards the house, “that hulk of a person…that the two of you are nothing more than friends. The last thing I need is you saddled with a kid before graduation.” He turns to head back in then stops abruptly. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d remove that necklace of horror as soon as humanly possible. I don’t care if you have to wear a scarf the rest of your natural life. Your mother and sisters are never to see that atrocity.” His finger comes just shy of digging into my chest. “Got it?” His eyes bug out, furious and wild.
“Got it,” I mouth the words and walk back in the house. “I’m going out with Gage,” I announce.
“That’s great, Hon. You need some air, you’ve been stuck in bed all day.” My mother lets the paper she’s holding slip through her fingers while looking suggestively over at Tad.
Come to think of it, Drake is probably out with Bree, and the girls were at a sleep over last night and still haven’t been picked up—OK the implications are pretty gross.
“Don’t worry.” I restrain myself from picking up the phonebook next to her and swatting her over the head for wanting to procreate with such a moron. “You can have the house to yourself. Gage and I have got things to discuss.” I look over at Tad to see if he’s buying this load. The only thing we’ll be discussing with great sorrow is the fact Tad is in my life—that, and the awful fact I killed someone.
***
Gage drives us to the base of Devil’s Peak. I’ve never been down at the bottom before. A few cars are parked along the rocky shore facing the ocean. The white caps swirl in a massive fit of destruction, and it reminds me of the night Marshall saved me, as I was getting ready to drown.
“What’cha thinking?” Gage wraps a blanket around my shoulders as we as head over to an embankment.
“About death.” And selfishly, not Holden’s. I still can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact I ended someone’s life yesterday all because I mistook him for a Fem. I’m a danger to society—welcome to my new reality.
“He attacked you.” Gage guides me high up on a dirt patch and tosses down a towel for us to sit on. We land softly, and I let him hold me while we stare out the angry, boiling sea. “What were you supposed to do? Let him overpower you just because he wasn’t a Fem? You did the right thing.”
“I ran my fingers through his esophagus like it was rotten fruit. I went overboard,” I say, closing my eyes in disbelief.
“Sorry. I don’t know what to say,” he whispers into my ear.
I turn to face him. Even in this dim light his eyes radiate a brilliant electric blue. His dimples tremble as though they might ignite full and deep at any moment. I don’t really know why I’m here with Gage. He should be my friend when we’re not around other people, but something in me wants more. Eventually I’ll have to stop blaming Logan for this, whatever it is, and start taking responsibility for my feelings.
“So,” I sigh, “Brielle texted me this morning and said it was a kid from East named Holden.” I shrug looking down at my fingers.
“Holden Kragger,” Gage nods. “He’s got a twin brother, Pierce. They weren’t identical though. I think Pierce goes out with Nat off and on, not sure.”
“Oh.” I didn’t even know Nat had a boyfriend. “So they’re twins—were.” A horrible feeling comes over me to know that someone has to bury their brother, a son because of me.
“I don’t think you should dwell on this.” He studies my face intently. “It’s not like it was intentional. Even if you confessed, you’d be found innocent.”
“What are the police saying?”
“They ruled it a homicide. They think someone hopped up on drugs did it. My dad said it looks like he was mauled by a wild animal.”
My fingers come up over my neck. He was struggling to get away. I could have let him go.
“He was forcing himself on me.” I can still feel his tongue slithering down my throat like a barbed, rabid snake.
“Don’t upset yourself. And don’t worry about the cops. My dad said the last person in the world they’re going to suspect is a sixteen-year old girl.” He rubs his hands gently up and down my back. “Um…I talked to Logan.” His voice drops down into his chest.
It seems so trivial now. Me with Logan, me with Gage—none of it matters because we’re all still alive and breathing.
“He’s pissed.” One of his dimples ignite as he gives a slight grin.
“What exactly did you say?” A part of me doesn’t want to know, doesn’t want to get sucked down further by the undertow of our blossoming relationship.
“I told him I thought you were beautiful.” His eyes round out. “That I can’t stop thinking about you.” He stares me down with those cobalt spheres. “That I don’t think I can pretend to be your anything, and that I want to start seeing you.” His Adam’s Apple rises and falls dramati
cally as though he were unsure of what my reaction might be. “I know you have feelings for Logan. I’m not asking you to deny them or tell me you’re leaving him. All I want is a chance.” It comes out as a fact, but beneath the surface there’s a layer of desperation. “Skyla,” My name comes out broken, just shy of a whisper. “I’d do anything to be with you. And if that means giving you all the time in the world to make up your mind, I’ll do that.”
I lean in and press my lips soft against his. We start in with slow, deep kisses—then it erupts into an entire desolate exchange of passion.
Choosing between Logan and Gage would require more time than the world could possibly afford. I’d need two lifetimes, and two of me—both of which reality could ever hope to give me.
Chapter Thirteen
One Count Down
Monday, on the way to second period, I pass Logan in the hall. He not only smiles in my direction—he holds out his hand to high five me.
Butterfly room at ten? He asks.
It’s on, I give a sly smile as I head into Marshall’s class.
Gage pretends not to notice the whole skin slapping exchange. I spent all day yesterday trying to figure out how to see one Oliver, without cheating on the other—turns out there’s no possible way. I’m going to have to do something, rather drastic and painful, like choose, but I think I’d rather pluck off my fingernails.
I contemplate the finer skills I’ve picked up since moving to the island—liar, cheat, thief, oh yeah—murderer. At least Paragon is molding me into a well-rounded asshole.
I plop down in my seat. It takes all of my effort not to put my head down, I’m so tired and it’s only nine in the morning. Marshall whistles happily while passing out the tests from last week. I find this extremely annoying so I don’t bother acknowledging him.