“Second, I went to find Thom Morris like Ginger asked. He’s been missing for a while. His mother has no clue where he went—but I think he’s still out there.” I glared at Kale, who sat on the bed staring at me. “I’m making a better than average bet that Denazen hasn’t gotten to him yet.”
“And why would you say that?”
“Because Denazen showed up looking for him, too.”
I could practically hear the change in her demeanor. There was a thickness to the air that would require a chainsaw to hack through. “Dez, come home right now.”
And this is where the fun part of the conversation started. “I can’t. I’m—I’m here with Kale.”
There was a few moments of silence, and I couldn’t tell if it was good silence or bad. With Mom, it was usually impossible to tell. I probably would have preferred the screaming. At least I’d know where I stood. “Are you hurt?”
“I’m okay. I promise. There’s a name on the list, Ben Simmons—”
“How—”
“Did you really think I wasn’t gonna check out the rest of the names? You made it clear Ginger didn’t want me to see the list. What did you expect me to do? Telling me not to do something is pretty much the same thing as waving it back and forth in front of my face like a bright red, coffee-scented flag…”
“Point made,” she said angrily. “And lesson learned. Obviously you know what Ben does…”
A smidge of anger, ugly and sharp, bobbed to the surface. I still hadn’t fully forgiven her for taking Ginger’s side at the cabin, but knowing Ben was on the list and out there—possibly able to help Kale—and ignoring it? Totally different level of wrong. “And so do you. How could you hide something like that from me? If there was a chance this guy could help—”
“Penny Mills needs to be your priority. If you’re dead—or crazy—what will it matter if Ben Simmons can help Kale’s memory? Do you think he’d want that?”
“Right now it’s a nonissue. Priorities have changed whether we like it or not.”
“Changed? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” Kale said, leaning closer to my cell, “that I want the truth. If Ben Simmons can give that to me, I intend to have a talk with him.”
Mom was quiet for a minute. When she spoke again, her voice had that tone. The dangerous one that hinted she was about to lose her temper. I’d seen it happen. It wasn’t pretty. “And what does that have to do with my daughter?”
“Because if Simmons confirms what your daughter claims, then she is telling the truth and I’ve been lied to. If he tells me there’s nothing wrong, then your daughter is lying. And if she’s lying, that means my friends are telling the truth. And that means she and I have unfinished business.”
“And what makes you think we won’t intercept you?” Mom asked with a hint of amusement. I could almost see the smile creep across her face. “We know where Simmons is, too. We could simply take her back.”
“I don’t advise that,” Kale growled. “Because if anyone shows up, there won’t be enough left of Kiernan, or Dez, or whoever she is, to fill a paper cup.”
Mom took a deep breath. I could hear it as clearly as if I’d been standing beside her. “I love you like you are my own, Kale, but if you hurt her, I’ll kill you myself. Slowly.” Her voice was like ice, sending a chill through the room cold enough to freeze fire.
Kale stepped forward and picked up the cell. “Then let’s hope she’s telling the truth.” Eyes on me, he jammed the end button and tossed it on the bed. “She called you Dez.”
I stared at the phone, thankful it stopped bouncing right before tumbling over the edge. If I told Mom I needed another phone, she’d have a llama. This was the third one in two months. I snatched it from the bed and set it safely on the nightstand. “Probably because it’s my name. Oh, and this new personality? It leaves a lot to be desired. Alex is right. You’re kind of a dick.”
Kale didn’t answer. Instead, he sank onto the mattress and pulled off his shoes. I could try to get away when he slept. I’d probably have a fifty-fifty chance—okay, more like ten-ninety—but I had no intention of trying. As much as it hurt to see the disgust in his eyes each time he looked at me, this would be my only opportunity to get through to him.
“So…sleeping?”
“What about it?” he said, kicking both feet up.
“You expect me to sleep in the same bed as you?”
“That’s up to you.”
“How do I know you won’t roll over and dust me in your sleep?”
“I don’t roll.”
Hah. Kale, on a good night, would end up on the floor at least twice. Nightmares. Obviously it wasn’t an issue anymore. Still, I was worried. I looked from him to the bed, frowning.
He reached across and flipped the light switch, and the room went dark. “As I said before, no need to flatter yourself. You’re not my type.”
I hesitated, then sat on the opposite edge of the bed. If I could get him talking, maybe I could shake something loose. A memory or a feeling. I wasn’t picky. I’d take anything at this point. “And what would that be?”
“My type? I thought you said you knew all about my life. Why don’t you tell me.”
I twisted around and pulled my feet up, tucking them close. “Nothing I say to you right now is going to get through. You’re convinced I’m the enemy.”
After a few minutes, he let out a soft snicker. “Okay. Roz is strong. She’s confident and loyal. She’s there when I need her.”
“Congratulations,” I mumbled. “Sounds like you’re dating a German shepherd.”
I felt the bed shimmy, and in the dark I saw the outline of his figure rise. A moment later, his face moved into the moonlight beaming in through the heart-shaped window. “Roz and I fit. I can’t explain it, and I don’t expect someone like you to understand.”
“Someone like me. Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re spiteful. I know you’re her half sister. Roz told me how she tried reaching out to you and how you turned away. She offered you help and in return, you tried to hurt her by hurting your father and me. All because you felt slighted.”
My heartbeat quickened. “What do you mean, slighted?”
A car drove by, its lights streaming into the window to reveal Kale’s serious expression. “Roz tells me everything. She said you were bitter about having grown up in foster care. You were in a horrible situation until Marshal finally came to get you, while she lived a good life.”
I lay on my back as close to my end of the bed as possible and rolled over to face him. “What else did she tell you about how her sister grew up?” I wasn’t willing to say I. That would only make him think it was a confession—or worse, a slipup.
“Your foster father was a drunk with a heavy hand.”
“I didn’t know.” What she’d done to me—to Kale—couldn’t be overlooked, but I couldn’t help feeling bad for her.
Little things started to make sense. Things she’d said when we first met. Comments made in passing during the months she spent at the hotel. Why hadn’t she said anything? If she was angry or resentful, why not just yell and get things out in the open? We could have been there for each other. We could have been family. Instead she turned to Dad, and because of that choice, innocent people were dead.
When I yanked myself from thought, Kale was staring at me. “What?”
“I don’t know,” he said, sliding back to his pillow. He rolled onto his side, facing me, and propped himself on his elbow. “You look…almost sorry.”
“It doesn’t excuse what she did, but I am. No one deserves that.”
Lips parting as if he wanted to say more, he bit down and rolled stiffly onto his back in silence.
Apparently the conversation was over.
I did the same, remembering the first time we were in a hotel together. How I’d gone to sleep thinking of our very first kiss. More than anything, I wanted to go back to that moment. To its perfe
ct simplicity and the promise of things to come.
“Good night, Kale,” I whispered.
14
I tried to pull the edge of the blanket up around my shoulders to chase away the chill but it wouldn’t budge. That’s when I remembered I was lying on top of it, not underneath. Without opening my eyes, I gave an internal groan. Kale. Hijacked. Nookie motel. Memory loss.
Ah, crap.
As sleep faded, I stretched my right leg and wiggled my toes. It was much colder in the room than it had been, and every part of me was freezing. My nose and fingertips were nearly numb. Either someone had moved the bed outside to the parking lot, the heat had gone off—
Or the window was open.
Something thumped from the other side of the room. I fought back an icy shiver as my heart kicked into hyper-speed and my eyes flew open. Kale was on the bed next to me, lying very close, eyes wide with a finger held over his lips. He’d heard it, too.
I nodded to show I understood and took a deep, controlling breath as he carefully rolled over and slipped off the bed. Reaching across, he flipped the light switch several times. Nothing happened. Power. The power could be out. That would explain the cold. No power, no heat. And that would have been an awesome theory—if the alarm clock on the nightstand hadn’t glared bright red numbers back at me.
Kale took two steps, then turned and motioned for me to follow. I wasn’t nearly as quiet as he’d been. The mattress creaked twice as I eased myself off, and my foot came down on a particularly creaky board. Typical.
When I finally got around the bed and to his side, he took hold of my arm and dragged me toward the bathroom. We’d almost made it when a soft, annoyingly familiar pop disturbed the eerie silence.
Kale turned to me. There was a spark of worry in his eyes. His gaze traveled over my face, then dipped lower, catching on my arm. I followed it down and all the air rushed from the room in a single, dizzying swirl.
I didn’t know what scared me more. The fact that the dart had embedded itself in my forearm and I hadn’t felt a thing, or the fact that the dart had embedded itself in my forearm and I was possibly moments away from keeling over, helpless.
His fingers gripped the dart and, with one smooth yank, pulled it free. We stood there, eye-to-eye, and then I was flying backward. In a blur, Kale’s arm shot out, knocking me aside as something flew at us. Another dart.
He wasn’t happy about it, either. A feral scream split his lips as the door exploded inward and several agents swarmed the room. Two went for Kale while the third rushed me.
I stumbled narrowly out of my attacker’s path, falling backward onto the bed as he tripped over the tacky shag carpet. He recovered quickly and dove again, this time catching my ankle and yanking hard. I slipped from the bed, landing with a jolt on the floor, breath knocked from my lungs as his other arm made a swipe for anything he could grab.
He probably would have gotten me, too, if one of the other agents hadn’t careened backward into him. They fell sideways, giving me enough time to scramble off the bed and wobble unsteadily in Kale’s direction.
“Ignore her,” the one circling Kale snapped. He nodded to my arm. “She’s as good as down.”
I started forward, determined to help Kale, as the other two regrouped and joined the fight. Kale struck out at the first, gripping a handful of his hair and pulling hard. “What are you doing?” he snapped. “Why are you attacking me!”
When the only response he got was a poorly aimed right hook, he pressed his palm flat against the man’s skin. There was a rush of churning darkness and seconds later, the man was nothing more than dust.
The other two were smarter. They teamed up, coming for him from either side. He ducked, and for a minute I lost track of the fight. Everything started to water around the edges. The sounds of struggle were hollow and far off, and my vision snapped in and out of focus.
When things cleared, one of the agents lay still at Kale’s feet, while the other was in a pile already blowing away in the icy breeze streaming through the open window.
“Denazen,” Kale whispered, face pale. He had one of their guns in his hand and stared at the motionless agent on the floor. “These are agents. They attacked me.”
“Welcome back to—” His face zoomed out of focus and the entire room faded away.
Reality. I’d been about to say reality.
…
When I came to, everything was stiff. My back had a wicked knot and my arms were pins and needles from fingertips to shoulder. Oddly enough, I was happy to feel the pain.
“I know you’re awake,” Kale said. “I can tell by the change in your breathing.”
Of course he could. I opened my eyes and did my best to stretch. We were in Ginger’s car again, parked behind a dark brick building. It wasn’t the nookie motel. “How’d we get here?”
Sighing, he said, “I drove.”
“You drove?” I repeated, then bit down on my tongue to keep from screaming when a charley horse attacked my thigh with a vengeance. Apparently Kiernan had taught him to drive. A part of me was jealous. It was something Kale and I planned to do next spring. “As in, the car? How’d that work out for ya?”
His face flushed and he looked away. “I didn’t like it—but I had no choice. I managed to get us here and decided to wait for you to wake up. As I said, I’m not very good at it.” He opened the door and kicked out his left leg. “The car was making odd noises.”
I could have pushed it, but he was obviously embarrassed, thinking he’d forgotten something so elementary. I let it go and slipped from my seat to trade places with him. “What happened?”
He slid into the passenger’s seat and closed the door, thankfully cutting off the gusty supply of icy wind. “You’re clumsy. You walked into one of their darts.” A slight pause. “Tell me how I did that.” There was the smallest hint of panic in his voice. It made him sound so much younger.
I fastened my seat belt—or at least, I tried. Ginger’s driver’s side belt had a habit of sticking when it shouldn’t. I hadn’t tested it and didn’t want to, but I wondered if it would actually stick in an accident. My guess was no. “Did what?”
“Marshal had one of his men teach me a few defensive moves, but that was—”
“Something more?”
His eyes met mine. Intense blue filled up every inch of my vision. “Yes. I didn’t think. Only reacted. Like my body was controlled by some greater force.”
“You’ve been a fighter all your life, Kale. It’s called instinct. You don’t remember, but you’ve fought like that before. Many times.” I snickered and tore my gaze away from his. “You’re actually one hell of a badass.”
“I think I would remember something like that.”
“Obviously not. None of it was familiar? Nothing at all?”
“No,” he said, but I could tell he was lying. His eyes flickered from the building to me several times and he began tapping his fingers against the seat. Just like he’d done after our kiss and at the bridge.
“Why didn’t you…” I held my hand up, wiggling my fingers. “You know.”
“Touch them?”
“Yeah.”
He sighed, and for the first time on our little road trip to crazy, he looked genuinely sad. “Because I liked it. I’m not sure how I was able to fight like that, but I liked it. Using my gift, it would have been too easy. Too fast.”
The tone of his voice nearly killed me. It was something Kale refused to talk about with me under normal circumstances. I knew he didn’t like using his ability to harm people, but I’d seen him fight. Deep down, I knew he enjoyed the rush of it. The surge of adrenalin that came when you were in the thick of it. I knew, because I felt the same way. Maybe not about fighting, but I lived for the rush. Before Kale, it’s all I had. Now he was my rush—and I wanted him back. “Where are we going?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
Not exactly helpful. I reached across and turned the key—for once, the engine started righ
t up—and turned the heat to high. “How did they find us? GPS on your cell?”
“Aubrey said he turned that off.”
I let a few minutes of silence pass between us. Something was bugging me, and when I couldn’t stand it anymore, I gave in to curiosity. “You could have left me there. I’m sure there are more on the way.” I held both hands over the blower vent in hopes of getting some of the feeling back. The heat in Ginger’s old rust bucket was tepid at best, but it was better than nothing. “There are always more.”
“I could have,” he agreed. Suddenly he looked tired. Like he’d gone days without more than a few hours of sleep.
“So why didn’t you?”
“I need to find out the truth.”
“Let’s be honest, Kale.” I threw the car in reverse and backed from the spot. “You don’t need me to find out the truth. You know about Simmons and you know where he’s going to be. You can’t tell me you’re keeping me around to exact your revenge on the off chance I’ve been lying. I think you know I’m not lying—especially after what just happened.”
“I don’t know what’s true.”
“This is confusing. I can’t imagine how hard it has to be. After everything you’ve already been through, this is the last thing you deserve.” I took a deep breath, letting the car idle on the edge of the lot. My heart wanted me to take an awful chance and ask again. I needed to know my Kale was still in there. “Tell me the truth. Why didn’t you leave me?”
I was about to pull from the lot, assuming he wouldn’t answer, but he sighed and said, “I’m not sure.”
“Not sure? Did you remember something?”
“No,” he growled. “Yes. I don’t know? Stop asking questions. You’re worse than Roz.”
That was unexpected. “Worse than Roz?”
A frown slipped across his lips. There and gone in the blink of an eye. “She’s always asking me questions. How am I. What’s on my mind.” He turned to me, expression fierce. In his lap, both hands knotted tightly for a moment before his fingers started to flick. Not tap—flick! “I didn’t leave you behind because I couldn’t. Like, I physically couldn’t. I tried. I made it to the door. But when I looked back and saw you lying there, all I could think was that more would be coming and they’d take you. Marshal would finally have you. For the briefest moment, the thought nearly crushed me.”