The Way Back to Us Page 10

  “If you did that I could probably work you into one of our tracks.”

  There was a long pause. “Stop trying to draw me over to the dark side.”

  “But we have lyrics.” I grinned, standing to stretch.

  “Which only means you lack the sophistication to express yourself through your music alone,” she said, haughtily.

  “Classicist snob.”

  “Oh, you know it.” She laughed. “So, you’ll talk to her?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I will talk to her.”

  “Awesome!” She heaved out a deep breath. “I’d say you’re the best, but you’ve lost the necessary points to be classified in that particular range. Minus twenty-five points for managing to call back Lilah about her morbid obsessions, but failing to speak to Mom as requested.”

  “Harsh.” I winced as I strode over to my suitcase and riffled through it for a T-shirt. “Will points be restored after the completion of my assigned task?”

  “I’ll take it under consideration.”

  I flipped over to speakerphone and tossed the phone on the mattress so I could pull my shirt over my head. A quick knock-knock-knock sounded on my door, sounding urgent in its rapid succession. “Alright, Daph, I’ve gotta run.” I snatched up my phone. “Before I do, just a heads up I’m getting a new number.”

  “Again? How do people keep getting your number?”

  “My guess? Valerie’s scribbling it in random bathrooms across the world.” Somehow Val had an even worse case of wanderlust than Darlene and was frequently found tromping up and down some mountain or another.

  Daphne snorted. “Somehow I doubt you guys are that popular in Mongolia.”

  I frowned. “Mongolia, I thought she was in Nepal?”

  “That was three weeks ago. She’s on to Mount Khuiten.”

  Another set of knock-knock-knocks reverberated around the room, louder and more insistent this time. “Shit, I’ve gotta run. If you hear from her again tell her I say hi.”

  “Will do.”

  I dropped my phone into my pocket. Right now it was more a seven-hundred-dollar paperweight than anything else, but in case of an emergency I wanted to have it on me. Four quick strides had me at the door, and I opened it to find Ian on the other side, his hand covering his eyes. He peeked through two fingers. “Are you decent?”

  I snorted. “I’m not sure that word can ever be used to describe me.”

  His gaze dropped a little and he tensed. “Just trying to make sure little Gavin and I don’t have another . . . encounter.”

  “Dude, that was one time.” I made a face. Like he’d never seen another guy’s junk before. I answer the door one time without clothes on, and I’d never heard the end of it. “And the next time you call him little I will end you.”

  “Noted.” He tipped his chin toward the second floor landing. “You need to see this.”

  I closed the door behind me before following in his footsteps. At the end of the hall, Ben leaned against the railing, gaze pointed downward. Ian took the spot next to him and I squeezed into the remainder between Ian and the wall.

  Laughter reached my ears first, and it took me a good ten seconds to find where it was coming from. The living room was empty, but the kitchen. I blinked, waiting for what I was seeing to come into focus. Surely, what I was looking at was a trick of my imagination. That couldn’t be Dani down there, in the midst of the other girls, laughing like she didn’t have a care in the world when only an hour ago she’d practically dismantled my heart saying that me hating her was more bearable than me loving her.

  Watching them together made my chest tighten like somehow I had too much oxygen and not enough at the same exact time. My heart wanted to be happy, it practically threw a party at the sight of them all together, but my head knew what my heart wouldn’t acknowledge: the image before me was nothing more than a handful of moments strung together that would disappear in the blink of an eye. I forced out a laugh. “Is that Bianca in the kitchen?”

  Ian whacked me in the back of the head. “Shut your mouth.”

  “It is a little concerning,” Ben said, giving Ian some side-eye. “There are eight of us and not nearly enough bathrooms to go around.”

  Ian presented Ben with his middle finger, then turned back to me. “You give Dani a pep talk after she came back from the beach?”

  “Hardly.” I pinched my lips together to stop myself from saying any more. As much as I wanted to get this fucking weight off my chest and finally be able to breathe again, I knew that spilling the horrific truth Dani laid bare for me this afternoon would be a terrible mistake.

  My gaze was glued to Dani, just waiting to catch a hint of discomfort at her situation. Waiting to swoop in and rescue her. But, apparently, any type of rescue was unnecessary. She fawned over Juliet’s engagement ring, whispered conspiratorially with Rachel, and quickly diced the handful of tomatoes Bianca had massacred on the cutting board. From where I was standing I’d never have guessed the four of them hadn’t known each other for years.

  Rachel cleared her throat. “You know we can see you, right?”

  All four of them glanced our way.

  “Busted,” Ian whispered.

  Chapter 20: Dani

  Dinner was an unparalleled success. Every dish was empty, no leftovers in sight, and Gavin barely managed to restrain himself from licking the bowl clean. My ears were, as ever, always on alert, perked for the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, the sight of a flashlight bouncing off the windows, but most of me was present in the moment. Soaking it in.

  Underneath the table I threaded my fingers through Gavin’s and I felt his start of surprise. I couldn’t really blame him, not after the way we left things this afternoon. Right then my emotions were a pendulum, swinging back and forth. I was giving my best effort to keep it on the upswing. With any luck I could keep it there until . . . well, until the dream shattered like fine glass. I forcibly restrained my thoughts back from that inevitability.

  That moment, I was focusing on the moment.

  Rachel leaned back in her chair. “There’s dessert if anyone—”

  “Dessert?” Gavin perked up.

  She tossed her napkin down on the table. “I made apple pie.”

  “Oh.” He grimaced and scrunched up his nose. “I may have . . . eaten that.”

  “You don’t say,” Rachel deadpanned.

  “Which is why,” Bianca piped up, “I made an extra one. And before you start, baking is not cooking. I make a damn good apple pie.”

  “But were the eggs good?” Felix mumbled, almost, but not quite, too low to hear.

  “Oh my God.” Bianca’s hand hit the table, making the silverware jingle. “Are you guys ever going to let that go?”

  Ben shook his head. “Probably not.”

  “I’d say it’s highly unlikely,” Felix said through a smile.

  Ian pressed a kiss to her temple. “Highly unlikely.”

  “You know, it’s funny.” I took a sip of my water and set the glass back down on the table. “You all poke fun at Bianca, but I bet these lovely ladies all have some fabulous dirt on you.” I widened my eyes.

  Bianca’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, you mean like the time I got Ian to wear—”

  “No, no.” His hand clapped over her mouth, and spit out a stuttering laugh.

  Jules’s smile gleamed. “Or like the fact that Gavin and Felix had a—”

  “Oh, hell no,” Felix shouted, practically leveling Gavin with a glare. “Why in God’s name would you tell her that?”

  “It just came up in conversation.” Gavin waved his hand through the air like he was trying to flick Felix’s question away.

  “Came up in conversation? What kind of conversation could you have possibly been having that involved that?”

  While Felix fumed and Gavin tried to disappear under the table, I shoved the question over to Rachel. “What about you, Rach? Have any good dirt on Ben?” I admit there was something a little sinister to my smile a
s he squirmed in his seat.

  Her gaze darted from me to Ben and back again. “Umm . . .”

  “Rach.” He gave her a pleading look.

  “Well, he—” She bit her lower lip. “He wears funny socks.”

  In unison, everyone’s gaze dropped to underneath the table.

  “For Christ’s sake.” He threw up his hands. “I’m not even wearing shoes.”

  Jules tapped a finger against her chin. “What kind of socks are we talking about here? Like My Little Pony or socks with actual jokes on them?”

  I covered my mouth to hold back my laughter. My Little Pony socks. For then and always I would forever picture Ben in pink socks with colorful ponies on them. It knocked his intimidation level down about 500%.

  Ben shoved away from the table. “Ian’s trotting around in women’s underwear, and Gavin and Felix have had a threesome together, and you’re all worried about my socks?”

  Wow, Ian mouthed, with a look he divided between Gavin and Felix.

  Gavin screwed up his face at him, with an expression that said, Please, you think I’m embarrassed?

  And from Felix, “And how the hell did you know about that?”

  Ben scowled at us all. “It’s my job to know.” He strode away from the table, intent on the stairs.

  “Ben, wait,” Rachel called after him. His shoulders drooped as he blew out a breath and turned back around. “You can’t go.” The corner of her mouth wobbled. “You guys are on dish duty.”

  * * *

  My heart was light that night, soft and fluffy like the clouds in a perfect spring sky. I was curled cozily on my mattress, wrapped up in a contentment that surrounded me like a cocoon. Not even the still-raging storm could break through my peacefulness.

  A soft tap at the door drew my attention.

  “Hey,” Gavin said, stretching out on the bed next to me. His lips found mine, gentle and oh so sweet. “I just wanted to come say goodnight.” His thumb skimmed my cheek.

  The mattress groaned as I turned on my side so we were facing each other. I slipped my hand over the curve of his hip, resting my fingertips against his back. “Your fingers are pruny.”

  He held one hand up to the light, examining the wrinkled skin. “There were a lot of dishes.”

  “Ben help?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

  “You bet your ass he did.”

  “Good.” I snuggled a little closer to him, resting my forehead against his shoulder.

  His lips rested against my skin. “You look like you’re ready to pass out. I should let you get some rest.”

  He went to move, but I tightened my grip on him. “Maybe tonight . . . you should stay.”

  “Stay?” He drew back so he could look me in the eyes. “What is going on with you tonight?”

  My leg found the gap between his so I could scoot closer. “I’m reveling. Just go with it.”

  “Are you sure—”

  I shook my head, the pillow rustling with the motion. “Don’t make me question it. Not now.”

  “Okay.” His fingertips stroked down my bare arm.

  Inside, my heart stutter-stepped, clenching. I didn’t want to burst the bubble, but what I wanted even less than that was to hurt Gavin in the process. So, at the risk of my zen I said quietly, “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “I know.” He sighed against my hair, his hold on me tightening imperceptibly. “I’m still good with just getting to visit Hogwarts.”

  “Hogwarts?” My forehead wrinkled. “What’s that? Like acne for a pig?”

  He jerked back, a look of pure horror on his face. “Are you kidding?”

  “I never kid about skin conditions.”

  His exhale coasted over my skin, smelling of cinnamon and apples. I smiled to myself; he’d gotten his dessert after all. Tucking me closer to his chest he said, “Prepare yourself. I’m about to tell you the most epic bedtime story.”

  And he did, whispering words of magic and wizards in my ear. I didn’t last long, I barely stayed awake long enough to hear about a magical hat and a professor that may or may not have been a villain. But the last ones, the very last ones I remembered before drifting off, were about two devoted parents, dying tragically to protect their precious son.

  So it was no surprise really, not after everything that happened that day, that the nightmare found me again.

  Lightning flashed, the shadow of the window pane stark against the wood floor. Her hands were on my face. Tight. Too tight. “Sweetheart, I need you to get under the bed. Now, right now.” Her fingers were desperate against my nightgown, pulling, pulling.

  My knees hurt from the hard floor, the coldness of it seeping through the thin, yellow cotton of my pajamas. Her fingers swept through my hair. “Don’t come out. No matter what you hear, don’t come out. Promise me.”

  “I promise, Mommy.” My lip wobbled, hot tears pooling in my eyes. Every part of me was shaking, trembling.

  A quick kiss against my forehead, so quick.

  And then a fist pounding on the door. Pounding, pounding, pounding.

  I pressed small fists over my ears, trying to drown out the yelling. It went on and on, rising and falling. Thunder rumbled and with it came a sharp blast, louder and sharper than anything I’d ever heard before. I jumped as tears streamed down my face.

  The timeline skipped and I was in my doorway, breaking my promise.

  “Mommy?” I called. “Daddy?”

  The floor creaked as I tiptoed forward and rounded the couch. A puddle spread out in front of me, too dark to be water. Her hand wasn’t dark, it was pale, too pale. I screamed and then I was on my knees, hands quivering as I shook her, my tears falling, falling, falling.

  Through my tears my gaze drifted to the doorway, to the shadow of the man of nightmares. There and then gone again as blood soaked into my nightgown. As it stained my fingertips, slipped over my hands until there was nothing but the feel of the copper-scented liquid coating me completely, and I was drowning in it.

  I woke up screaming, my body tangled up with Gavin’s, my feet twisted in the sheets. Furiously, I thrashed until I was free. My knees hit the floor with a jarring thud, my elbow taking the brunt of my fall. Every breath felt like I was ripping myself apart, my sobs wracked my entire body.

  “Dani!” He was on his feet in an instant, the sleepiness from his eyes instantly gone. “What is it? What’s wrong?” His head whipped back and forth as he searched the room.

  I scrambled to my feet, my legs barely holding my weight. I couldn’t make it to the bathroom fast enough. My fingers trembled so hard I could barely turn on the faucet, but as soon as the water poured out I shoved my hands underneath the cold stream. Scrubbing, twisting. All the while seeing the dark crimson of my mother’s blood staining my hands, soaked into the grooves of my palms.

  From behind me I heard my name, heard Gavin saying it over and over and over.

  His hands gripped my upper arms, gave me a slight shake. “Dani, what is it? What the hell is the matter? Tell me. Let me help. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  I held out my hands in front of me, water droplets clinging to my fingernails. My entire body shuddered, so hard I was sure even my bones were shaking. “There’s so much blood Gavin. I can’t get it off. I can’t . . .” I wrung my hands together, twisting them so I could feel the hard edges of my bones beneath my skin.

  His hands gripped mine, stilling them. “There’s no blood. It was just a dream.” He drew my hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.

  A bit of the terror dissipated, but behind the nightmare the truth still loomed. I shook my head frantically, tears spilling unnoticed down my cheeks. “It wasn’t a dream. She’s dead, Gav. She’s really dead.”

  My legs gave out then and he caught me, cradling me against his chest, carrying me back to the bed though his shirt was soaked with my tears and the water clinging to my hands and arms. He made shushing noises in my ear, rocking me slightly while always repeating, “It’s alright, I’ve got you. I’
m here.”

  He whispered those words in my ear until my heart stopped racing.

  He whispered them until the tears stopped pouring and my breath came easy.

  He whispered them until sleep came for him and his voice faded away.

  So when my phone went off two hours later, he didn’t feel me slip from his lap or hear me pad across the floor. He didn’t see the hollowness in my eyes as I read: Greetings! Open a door, walk to your other things, enter the ashes thin & bare. Wonder at stars, pray to our stars. He didn’t hear me exhale with relief. He didn’t even stir when I slipped my duffel bag over my shoulder and clicked the door closed quietly behind me because the clock was already ticking. I had hours to comply with my dad’s succinctly worded text: Today. The third spot.

  Chapter 21: Gavin

  I woke knowing something was wrong. It took me a few minutes to place it as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Dani. I scanned the room, but there was no trace of her—not a pair of jeans tossed on the carpet, not an indent in her pillow, not a sight or sound of her anywhere.

  My feet hit the carpet and I padded to the bathroom for a quick piss. I half wondered if I’d imagined the whole thing, right up until I stepped in a puddle of water. The whole counter was sprinkled with splattered spots of it, and when I glanced into the mirror there was a stain along the collar of my shirt. Just a small blotch of black. Mascara most likely, but proof nonetheless.

  I rubbed the back of my neck as my thoughts spun back to the wee hours of the morning, the look, the haunted, fractured reflection in Dani’s eyes. One second she was cuddled against me, sleeping, the next she was screaming. Screaming like I’ve never heard someone scream. So full of terror and despair that the hair on the back of my neck, my arms had stood straight up. Goosebumps had flourished across my skin everywhere.

  That hadn’t even been the worst of it. The way she’d frantically scrubbed her hands and arms, the way her whole body shook like she was suffering from some inner earthquake had scared the ever-loving shit out of me. Even that hadn’t prepared me for her words. There’s so much blood, she’d said, she’s dead, Gav.

  Who was dead? Whose blood was she trying to scrub from her hands? And dear God, I hated to even think it but, had it been Dani that killed her?