A Man of Honor (A Young Adult Paranormal Romance) (The Honor Trilogy) (19 page)

Walking through the school halls without Honor is like walking through life without a purpose. Honor’s week-long vacation in Berry Islands is almost over and I’m dying to know where I stand.

The only reason I attend classes is so I don’t go crazy sitting at home. That
, and the fact that gossip has run ramped about Moore’s disappearance. Every high school teacher has been questioned about any personal issues they may have known about their peer. Teachers are worried and students are intrigued. Evidently, Moore had no family members. Faculty was concerned about his disappearance, so they were the ones to inform the officials. Now there’s a case, and my brothers and I can’t wait until it’s closed. Trusting that the two large men, who Tom says are named Jimmy and Jack, hold true to their word, Moore won’t be found and his case will close – unsolved.

At lunch ti
me, instead of going to the cafeteria and socializing, I go out to the track and take a run. Trying to outrun the pain in my chest is futile, but it beats staying still and feeling the pain. When the end of lunch bell rings, I continue running right up the hill and into school, stopping when my cell goes off.

Not recognizing the out of state n
umber, I let it go to voicemail and head to my next class.

“Storm,” Tamlin says as I pass her in the hall. “What are you doing after school?”

“Not much. Why?” I ask, not enthused at all.

“Eli, Hunter and I are going to the diner. We want you to come. You’ve been so sulky all week.” She takes my hand and squeezes it. “You need to get out. We’re not even asking Ethan to go…since that’d probably make you sulk more.”

I crack a smile.

“Is that a yes?” she says with a big grin.

“I guess.”

“
C’mere.” Tamlin gives me a big bear hug. “She’s going to choose you, you know. There’s no doubt in my mind. I think Ethan even knows it. So come on already, smile. She’ll be back in like what two days?”

“Yeah, she’s flying in from Berry Islands today and then
they’re staying in Nassau for two nights,” I explain as I unlock myself from Tamlin’s death grip.

“See, that’s two nights. You can go two more nights, can’t you?”

“Yeah.” I sigh.

“Good.” She punches me in the arm and laughs. “Meet us in the lot, I’ll drive.”

“Oh great.” I roll my eyes. “I would like to stay alive two more nights.”

“
Jack-ass,” she calls, walking away and holding her middle finger up in the air.

Though weary from a mind that hasn’t shut down, even with sixteen hours of sleep a day, the trip to the diner is a welcome diversion. Tamlin still manages to make me laugh, and I’m envious of her relationship with Eli. They fit well – as well as I thought Honor and I had. But to watch them brings a small smile to my face. There’s no one cooler than Tam, and she deserves to be happy.

“So, Storm,” Hunter says, a forkful of pancakes entering his mouth as he speaks. “We’re going to the drive-in tomorrow night.
Wanna come?”

“Uh, I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“Ah, c’mon, you got anything better going on?”

“Hunter,” Tamlin reprimands him from across the booth.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. Turning back to Hunter, I say, “No nothing better going on, but I’ll let you know if I’m up for it.”

“Okay. But it’s Friday night. Don’t sit home and sulk.”

As firmly as I can, I repeat, “I’ll let you know.”

“’
kay, have it your way,” Hunter replies.

Tamlin gives me one of those pity smiles, but I don’t take it
to heart. I finish my burger then order another milk shake. Not eating this past week has made me surprisingly hungry. It’s still hard to feel happy though. I have a bad feeling. Even if she doesn’t choose Ethan, something tells me she may not be choosing me either. And I don’t know how to live with that.

When Tam drops me back at my car, I thank her for inviting me. If anything, it lifted my mood for a couple hours.
Revving my engine, I peel out of the lot and head for home – where I’ll go right to bed so I won’t have to think too much. My nightmares will keep me from forgetting altogether, but at least I’ll get some sort of reprieve from grief.

What a
wuss I’ve turned in to. Once so callous and cocksure, I don’t even recognize myself anymore. Reclining on my bed, I grab my second pillow and hold it to my chest – the pillow filling the void where Honor should be. Attempting to recapture her scent is the last thing I remember before falling off into a restless slumber.

**

Clutching the sheets, I wake up drenched in sweat, my heart weighted in fear. Honor never comes back. She never returns from her trip. I sit up and clutch my chest. The pain is so intense, the nightmare so real, I can taste the foreboding rising up in my esophagus. Rubbing my sweaty palms on my blanket, I replay the nightmare in my mind.

Honor. Saving. Healing. Dying.

That’s all I can recall. Why can’t I remember my dream? It doesn’t make sense. In my dream, I watch her die. I watch her fall. Her hands, I remember her hands. Dammit, why can’t I remember everything?

Dragging myself out of bed, afraid to make a movement but afraid to stay still, I pad clumsily to the bathroom, clutching my stomach. My knees betraying me, they buckle and I fall against the sink.
Think, Sutherland. Think. What is my dream telling me? It has to have some meaning. I feel it in my chest. Know it in my mind.

It’s when I’m splashing water on my face that I remember the long-distance phone call I never picked up. Running to the chair I threw my jeans on last night, I pull my phone out of the pocket and retrieve the voicemail.

It’s Honor’s dad. He’s calling from the princess Margaret Hospital in Nassau. Oh my god, his voice is shaking. He’s muttering something, but all I hear is that something has happened to Honor. His voice goes on and on, but his words don’t register.

When the message ends, I take a huge breath and will myself to calm down so that I can hear his voicemail over my pounding heartbeat. I press replay and hold my breath.

Storm. It’s Jack Stevens. There’s no cell service here, so I’m calling from the
Princess Margaret Hospital in Nassau. There’s been a terrible accident and Honor is …oh my god, Storm.

Mr. Stevens pauses to swallow some tears. He’s choking up.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to stay calm so I can get this out. The plane went down. Right on the island. A lot of people were hurt. Honor and her mom included. But…Honor wasn’t hurt too badly. She would have…

Jack’s voice cracks and he hesitates again.

She would have gotten away with just some bruises, but…she couldn’t help herself. Oh, Storm.

Jack cries again, making me wait even longer for his explanation.

She had to go saving as many people as she could. Wound after wound, she wouldn’t stop. Until finally…she collapsed…fell unconscious. It…It was horrible. She was turning all sorts of colors…wounds started appearing on her skin where before there weren’t any. It…oh my god, it was awful.

Jack catches his breath again, while I listen to his sobs over the phone.

And oh, Storm…

His crying is scaring the hell out of me.

She…she…

BeepBeepBeep. Three fast beeps end the call.

She what goddammit? Oh my god…she what?

I drop to my knees with the phone clutched to my chest. He never told me. He never said…

He never said if she was still alive.

Forcing myself to grab hold of my emotions, I get up off the floor and pull open my laptop. The first thing I do is book a one-way ticket for the first available trip to Nassau, Bahamas. This gives me hope before going on
to the second thing I do –dial the long-distance number that displays in my recent calls.

After listening to the recording, I press the option to reach the receptionist. When she finally answers the phone, I ask to reach Honor Stevens
’ room. When she tells me to please hold, I wait impatiently listening to some cheesy Chicago song called
Wishing You Were Here
– which pisses me off big time, because it’s sad…and I’m already sad.

When the woman comes back, she tells me, “I’m sorry, sir, but I cannot connect you at this time.”

“Can you tell me if she’s at least there? Is she alive?” I beg. I plead.

“I’m sorry sir, but I’m unable to offer you information. You can come in and speak to that department face to face, but we cannot give out that information over the phone.”

“I’m in fucking America. I can’t just take a bus over there. Please. I’m begging you.”

“I’m really sorry, sir, but I can’t.”

Before I plead one last time, the line goes dead.

And so does my heart.

The incessant replaying in my mind of yesterday’s phone call is all I remember about the flight to Nassau, Bahamas. The melting ice in my glass and the three empty miniature bottles of Jack Daniels tells me I was articulate enough to request a drink and coherent enough to show the correct form of id – considering I have two different ones. But don’t ask me what my attendant looks like or whether or not she’s male or female.
All I know is, though my body is numb, my heart and mind have a permanent vise clamping down on them. The pain is unbearable.

“In f
ive minutes, we will be landing in beautiful Nassau, Bahamas,” the pilot announces. But all I care about is getting to Princess Margaret Hospital and finding out if Honor’s alive.

God I hope she’s alive.

Since I spent no time packing, there is nothing to stop and retrieve. So when I get off the plane, I hail the closest taxi and somehow communicate to the driver where I need to go. I don’t even hear the words come out of my mouth. It’s as if someone else is operating my body. I’m floating above myself in a way, because everything that is happening to me since the moment I got the phone call is hallucinatory.

The eight stairs leading up to the front door may have been the seventy-two stone steps leading up to the Philadelphia Mus
eum of Art. It took me that long to make it in to the building. And even longer to make it to the receptionist. Yes, I was in a hurry to see Honor. No, I was not in a hurry to hear terrible news. So I let time stand still by hovering in the lobby a few minutes before asking for information about her.

“You can go up to the Intensive Care Wing on the second floor. There’s a reception area where you can sign in,” the woman behind the circular desk says.

My heart struggles to pick up its pace with the vise constricting it, but God bless it, it tries. “Are you…are you saying…she’s alive?” I ask between labored breaths.

“Yes, sir, I am, but she
is
in ICU, so you’ll need to cover up. The nurses will give you a gown upstairs.”

She is alive
. Like one of those religious people who drop to their knees and sing “Praise be the Lord,” I feel my own body screaming in celebration. “She’s alive,” I whisper only to myself. “Praise be the Lord.”

Upstairs, the lady in blue makes me put on a yellow gown and a mask and gloves. When I walk into her room, I’m greeted by two grim faces and
a body hooked up to all types of tubes.

“Storm,” Mr. and Mrs. S. say together.

Taking slow steps toward the bed, I feel that vise clamping down again. She’s not breathing on her own – she’s breathing through an oxygen mask. My eyes stay drawn to a sleeping Honor, but I manage to speak softly. “What’s going to happen to her?” I ask her parents.

“Well, it’s a waiting game,” Mr. Stevens tries to say as a matter of fact, but his voice cracks, and I know he’s trying his best to stay strong.

“What are we waiting for?” My voice is still quiet, my eyes, still on Honor.

Mrs. Stevens’ breath hitches and her hand covers her mouth.

“We’re waiting to see…if she’ll make it.” Though he tries not to, Honor’s dad cries.

This is where I drop to my knees.

And cry.

I don’t just let the tears slip from my eyes. No. I let them rain down. And I don’t stop crying until sometime later in the evening when Honor’s mother brings me a cup of coffee.

“It was nice of you to come,” she tells me.

My struggle to stand is met with two lower limbs filled with pins and needles.
I turn anyway and hug the shit out of Mrs. Stevens.

“I’m so sorry. I’m just so
so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Storm. Stop,” she cries.

“The break. If I hadn’t…oh my god, if I hadn’t asked to take a break, she wouldn’t be here right now.” I’m still squeezing Mrs. S. so hard, I finally realize I could be hurting her.

She lets me pull away and then looks me in the eyes. “Storm. We might have taken this trip anyway. You don’t know that we wouldn’t have. Lord knows we needed it.” She laughs through her tears, leaving me to wonder where she finds her strength.

“I don’t know what to do,” I cry in exasperation.

“We fly back home. They’ll be flying Honor to Morristown Hospital on Tuesday. We’ll meet her there. That’s all we can do.”

Nodding my head, I say, “Okay. Okay.”

I sit down in the chair next to the bed
, manage to swallow a few sips of the hot coffee, and cry. Again. Going through my mind this time, though, is making a deal with God.

God,
If You allow Honor to live, I will no longer be the asshole I’ve been. No longer will I make Honor choose between Ethan and me. If You allow Honor to live, Ethan can have her. I will not stress her out over it. I will make things easy on her and just be her friend. Her very best friend. If You allow Honor to live, I will be only good. Good to everyone. Especially Ethan. Please God. Please.

After my meltdown, I think - this affects him as much as it does me. He should know. It’s only fair that he knows.

And in a matter of minutes, I’m in the hallway calling Ethan.

Giving him what has to
be the worst call in his life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know he loves her as much as I do.