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Authors: Addison Moore

BOOK: Expel
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“You don’t look malnourished.” He blinks a dull smile.

“I found a goat by a large flat stone in the middle of a clearing, you know the one,” I say, accusingly. I watch as he flinches, enjoy the rhythm of his irritation. “I sacrificed it for my hunger. Stripped it of its flesh and put it over a fire,” I envision myself doing that to Demetri. “It satisfied me.” Come to think of it, his head is the size of a pumpkin. If he was my father, I’d clearly be malformed. Sometimes nature knows best and doesn’t allow people like him to procreate. But, then again, it has its genetic hiccups—look what happened with Tad. And obviously Mom’s incessant drug abuse has confused her into procreating with him.

“Skyla, that’s disgusting,” Mom shivers from the goat visual, but secretly I think she picked up on the fact I accidentally imagined her procreating with her nuptial mishap.

“Relax, Lizbeth, she’s lying,” Tad informs. “It’s her favorite hobby.”

A strangled tension crops up between the two of them. You could light a match, and the room would explode from the animosity between Tad and my mother.

Demetri reaches over and picks up my mother’s hand.

“You know, Lizbeth.” He bears into her eyes with those dishonest orbs. “Under these kinds of circumstances being there for your child emotionally is the most important thing and that’s what you’re doing. That’s what you always do because
you
are an exceptional mother.”

And
he
is exceptional bullshitter.

I look over to Tad who’s busy staring down Demetri.

This isn’t going to end well.

This Fem is going to steal my mother right from under Tad’s nose if he doesn’t step up his game.

And, for once, I think I’m rooting for Tad—just barely.

“See you soon, Skyla,” Demetri rises.

“For what?”

“Community service,” he inhales, expanding his chest wide as a brick house.

Oh that’s right, the pot bust consequence.

He nods. “We’re going to restore my grandfather’s estate to its former glory.”

I stare into him curiously. How can a Fem have any sort of family history?

I wonder.

 

Chapter 7

Family Time

 

 

The windows of the Landon house are adorned with pink and red hearts. I burst through the door, leaving Mom and Tad to finish the
little talk
they started after we left the station and continue in a heated manner as they walk up the driveway. It was like a broken record with Mom defending my behavior, Tad condemning me, and the two of them ignoring the fact I was right there in the vehicle able bodied and listening.

As if the fighting behind me weren’t bad enough, I can hear Mia and Melissa going at it full steam in the family room.

“What is going on?” I spring up on them just as they move into each other’s faces.

“Stay out of this, Skyla,” Melissa snaps.

OK, so really, I sort of expected to be tackled with hugs and perhaps for them to tell me how much they missed me like they did the last time I disappeared. Heck, I’d even settle for a
where the hell have you been
, but nothing.

“The next time I catch you with anything that belongs to me, I will slingshot your ass across the Pacific!” Melissa stabs a finger into Mia’s chest.

What the heck is this about? Just as I’m about to ask, Holden waltzes in the room and jars me into vocal paralysis—only it’s not Holden, it’s Ethan. I hope.

“Hello,” I say, following him into the kitchen.

He grunts while retrieving a soda from the fridge.

“You the runaway?” He cracks it open and takes a swig.

God, he even acts like Holden.

“I guess that would be me.” I lean in secretively, “I know what happened to you.”

He sets the can down hard onto the counter and drills into me with those strange Holden eyes. Funny because I never knew Holden before when he was actually himself, and now that Ethan is back in his right body, I still see Holden.

“We’ll talk later.” His voice is softer, his shoulders not stretched back taut like a jackass looking for fight. Maybe this new incarnation of Ethan really is the new and improved version.

“For sure,” I say.

“Let go,” Melissa snaps. I turn in time to catch my sisters in a tug of war over a silver purse. Mom steps in and snatches it from both their clutches.

“That’s enough,” she shouts. “I’m sick and tired of all this fighting. I’ve had it with the two of you.”

I’ve never seen Mom so dislodged from her sanity before.

Melissa snatches the bag from Mom’s fingers.

“I believe this is mine, Liz
bitch
,” she barks the malformed moniker in my mother’s face.

“Take it back!” Mia screams.

Tad lets out a whistle that makes Sprinkles the rat dog run for cover beneath the dining room table. He claps his hands over his head three times and calls for Drake.

“Family meeting,” he makes a series of circles in the air with his finger before pointing over to the couch. “All of you, and I mean now!”

Mia and Melissa sit on opposing couches. Drake sails down and high fives me before sitting at the bar as if I had merely stepped out for a shift at the bowling alley.

“I said here,” Tad barks, and Drake comes over between Ethan and me. “A lot of stuff has happened to this family as of late. Ethan, you’ve proved yourself a changed young man, I appreciate the effort. Drake, you and Brielle…” He throws his hand into the air without finishing the thought. “Mia and Melissa, for God’s sake, you used to get along better than sisters, and now look at you! Fighting over boys? Who cares about boys?” Tad chokes out the words.

It’s about that stupid Armistead kid, I can smell him a mile away. If he’s anything like his sister, he’s a bad freaking seed.

“Skyla’s back,” he continues, “and before she’s formally charged with yet another homicide, a few things are going to change around here. For one, your mother and I will be around the house a little more often because we no longer have to babysit that linebacker your sister tried to force feed her Michelins.”

“Skyla did not run anybody over,” Mom screeches out, exasperated. “And would you please stop referring to Gage as that
linebacker
? We were at the hospital to show our support for the Olivers. Thank God,
Gage
is going to be all right.”

“He needs me there,” I interject. “The doctor said I was like some miracle drug.” It takes everything in me not to bolt out the door. I noticed that freaking Mustang is parked high on the driveway. I suppose Tad wanted the monument of Chloe’s psychotic behavior for the cash value after all.

“Oh, you’ve got a side effect on people.” Tad glares at me. “I think what this family needs is some serious alone time together.”

Alone?

“Your mother and I propose we take some time just the,” Tad conducts a not so silent headcount, “seven of us.”

“We should go to New York,” Mia beams.

“We should go to Paris,” Melissa glowers over at her. “You always think so small.”

“You’re right,” Mia snipes. “I was thinking really small when I took on your dumb last name. Mom, I’m changing my name back.”

“Whoa,” Mom fans her arms out like a referee. “Nobody is going to New York or Paris, or changing their names. We are all keeping our own identities and staying put. You can’t just flip it on and off like a light switch. You’re a Landon, Mia.”

I knew she’d regret it.

“So, are we going to Seattle?” I ask. Honestly, I just need for them to pinpoint a venue so I can properly plan my escape. There is no way in hell I’m leaving Gage even for a minute. No locale on the planet is lucrative enough to drag me away.

“Nope,” Tad twists. “We’re staying right here on Paragon.”

“It’s a stay-cation,” Mom offers a placid smile that springs up as quick as it dies down.
 

“Great.” This is so freaking stupid, but I don’t dare call them out on it. I think in all of their absurdity they actually stumbled onto something that borders on brilliant.

“That’s right,” Tad nods, rather proud of the not so big reveal. “We’ll be enjoying the great outdoors right here on the island.”

“Camping?” Mia crawls up on the couch as though Tad just unleashed a venomous snake into the room. “I don’t do camping.”

“You do now,” Tad informs her. “Next weekend.”

“That’s Valentine’s Day,” Melissa is quick to snip. “The school has a dance.”

“OK, we’ll fit it in the following weekend. Consider yourselves warned,” Tad squawks.

There’s a knock at the door that rattles through the house, abrasive as gunfire.

“We’re a damn family, and it’s about time we start acting like one,” Tad storms off towards the entry. “Skyla, it’s for you.”

 

Chapter 8

Arrive Alive
 

 

 

I prattle down the hall expecting to see Brielle, Dr. Oliver, or even Chloe’s menacing mug, but this—Logan’s beautiful face is unimaginably the best thing I could have ever hoped for.

“Logan!” I jump into his arms and let him twirl me as he takes in my scent, kisses my neck, my cheeks, the spontaneous shower of tears on my face. The misty night air dusts a circle of approval over our shoulders, cool as a damp towel. His blonde hair glints under the silver dollar moon. His sharp features trap light and shadow with their perfection, spelling out the fact he’s a modern day Adonis. “You’re back, you’re really back.”

“Come in,” Mom urges, pulling us inside by the elbow.

“My dad wanted me to give you this,” Logan hands me a tube of white ointment.

“Perfect, thank you.” I give him a puzzled look. Dr. Oliver is Logan’s uncle, well, technically his brother, but for practical purposes he’s not.
 

“I was thinking about taking Skyla out,” he nods into Mom. “You know, hang out, catch up.”

Mom and Tad just stand there stupefied by this viral—alert, and very much alive-looking Logan.

“So what happened?” Tad washes over him with suspicion. “I thought you were at death’s door, you look perfectly fine.” His voice drags as though he were somehow implying that the Oliver’s had purposefully deceived him about Logan’s condition.

“Ship shape.” Logan taps his chest. “Just needed a tune up. Hey, they ever catch the bastard that ran me over?” He needles into Tad trying to maintain his sarcasm.

Shit.

Logan must have really hit his head in the wrong place.

“You know what?” I take up his hand and jump in front of him. “I would love to go out with you. Maybe get a bite? And we can see Gage after.”

Logan gives a reluctant smile.

“Don’t stay out late. Tomorrow is school.” Mom hands me one of Mia’s jackets before I speed down the porch with Logan.

I have Logan and Gage back, real and in person. I was so afraid that I would lose them both—that everything we built together would be reduced to memories, useless as pressed flowers.

I pause just shy of his truck and wrap my arms around him, brush my lips against his beating chest.

The world has righted itself. I can see and feel everything, and everything around me spells love.

 

***

 

 

Logan barrels us down the road at breakneck speeds.

“Slow down. I’m pretty sure Ezrina’s not in the mood for another restoration project tonight.” I don’t bother telling him about my deal with the hostess with the mostess corpses. Or, how, she’ll be wearing my body like the latest fashion in just a little while if I don’t arrange a do-over with the fab four that comprise the Justice Alliance.

“So, where do I normally take you?” He tweaks my knee and gives a little wink.

“What’s wrong?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“My head’s all clouded over. I can’t hold a thought more than two seconds.” He glowers into the long blank silence of the road. “I’ll need you to fill in a few blanks for me.”

“Let’s go see Gage. We can both fill in the blanks for you.”

“We’ll see him right after, but for now, lets do something just you and me.”

“You wanna go to the bowling alley? We can probably see Brielle.”

“I was thinking somewhere a little more private. Black Forest?” He hums along to the radio, turning up the volume.

“No, way. I hate that place. Let’s go to the bowling alley. You know, revisit the scene of the crime.” And, really, I wouldn’t mind seeing Bree.

“Suit yourself.” He drives us down the highway until we hit the dilapidating rectangle that is the bowling alley.

“Watch this,” he skips over the easement that leads into the parking lot and bumps over a series of small boulders that act as landscaping.

“Hey!” I shout, jostling about, snatching away at the dashboard, trying to keep from knocking into the window. He speeds us around the building to the dirt lot where the Mustang knocked the life out of him and comes just shy of hitting the trunk of an evergreen. “Shit!” I pant. “You almost smacked into that thing. And, by the way, the tree would have totally won. Don’t joke around like that.” The last thing I need is a head injury. A metal halo drilled into my skull isn’t exactly a girl’s accessory of choice for Valentine’s Day.

“Who says I’m joking?” He sobers quickly, killing the ignition. “I’m going to start living life to the fullest. No more of this ambling around not enjoying myself, bullshit.” He gives a dry laugh. “Come here,” he says, swiveling his arms up my sweater. “I believe I owe you a proper thank you.”

“I believe you do,” I push his hands back down. “But not like that.”

He pulls me in by the back of my neck and indulges in an unwelcome kiss by way of his meandering tongue.

Before I can push him away, the radio ignites in one loud blast, and I snatch my hands up over my ears to stop the noise.

“Crap,” Logan switches it off. “Must have hit it with my knee.”

“I think we should go see Gage.” For sure being alone with Logan is not a good idea. I believe his thrill to live campaign is being solely run by his penis. “So, we should drive to the hospital, like now.”

“He’s still in there, huh?” He shakes his head at the thought. “You should wake him up with some of that Celestra magic, perk him right up.”

“I didn’t even think of that. You’re a genius.” I push him gently in the shoulder. “I’m sorry about having your powers revoked.” I say it so low I’m not even sure he heard.

He stares off in a daze as though he were just remembering this reality himself.

“Shit,” he mutters. “No, it’s OK.” He takes in a hard breath. “There are so many other things that make life worth living.”

He starts up the truck, dazed by the revelation, and heads back out onto the black expanse of highway that drifts unknowably in both directions.

“What happened when you died Logan? What did you see?”

He swallows hard, still lost, gazing at the road ahead.

Logan looks fatigued, worn out underneath this jubilant demeanor. Death has discolored the world for him. I hope he gets his bearings, retrieves whatever it is he might have lost. I hope death didn’t come in and rob him of who he truly is deep down inside.

“It wasn’t good, Skyla,” his voice wobbles. “Nothing good waits for you. We need to live it up right now. This is all it’s ever going to be for us.”

“Did you end up in the transport?” Marshall took me there once. A Jasper cave with angels ready to send you up or down, no in-between.

He nods. “Pushed me back down to earth. And believe you me I’m glad to be here. I really owe you one.”

I give a little laugh as we pull into the parking lot of the hospital.

“You don’t owe me anything. I’m just glad you’re back.” I lean over and hug him for a very long time, take in his scent, and feel his body rise and fall with each breath he takes.

Having Logan back is a beautiful, beautiful thing.
 

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