Living Violet (22 page)

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Authors: Jaime Reed

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Romance

BOOK: Living Violet
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“Not yet,” I grumbled. “What's up?”
“My brother called while you were in the shower. He should be here some time tomorrow night, but he told us to start looking for hotels now. Brodie says dad likes the smaller inns, like bed-and-breakfasts or boarding houses. If we find him, we can find Haden. So after I take you to the hospital, Nadine and I are going to check around and ask if anyone's seen him.”
“That's fine, do what you gotta do.” Knowing it was a long shot, I still had to add, “In fact, I can go to the hospital by myself.”
He stepped closer and tipped his head to the side. “I really don't want to argue about this. I promised to protect you and that's exactly what I'll do.”
“No offense, but that's not gonna help me sleep at night, Mr. I-don't-fight. And your judo classes just started.”
“I won't need them if I have this.” Caleb lifted his shirt, exposing the butt of a handgun poking out of his pants.
Why wasn't I surprised? This was the South; everyone and their mother owned a weapon. Since Mom practically raised me at the shooting range, my only concern was whether Cake Boy knew how to use the damn thing. Those who couldn't fight were the first to whip out a gun.
Although, I had to admit, nothing said “back the hell up” like a loaded firearm, which was exactly what I did.
“Good luck getting that through the airport,” I quipped. “Where did you get that anyway?”
“Brodie gave it to me the last time he was stateside.” Watching my slow retreat, he dropped his shirt and hid the gun from view. “Don't worry. I know how to use it.”
I wiped the imaginary sweat from my brow. “Phew, that's a load off my mind. Too bad you didn't use it today when your dad came into work.”
“It was locked in my car; I couldn't get to it. My dad isn't stupid. He wanted us to meet out in the open for a reason. I know you're scared, but please trust me.”
I tumbled back, utterly blown away by his audacity. Squaring my shoulders, I let him have it. “Trust you? Are you serious? Since day one, you've been hiding the truth from me, and your communication skills suck! I know this isn't something you want to alert the media about, and I appreciate you trying to save me from the ‘Big Bad,' but giving your
girlfriend
a heads-up that your dad is a demonic psycho would've been ideal! I've seen enough weird shit this summer to dull me to whatever shock you might throw my way. And I'm
still
here with you, yet I barely know who you are, Mr. Baker—if that is your real name.” I jabbed a finger into his chest for good measure.
He caught my hand in his and held it to his heart. That firm yet gentle touch stopped the flow of venom from escaping my mouth.
His eyes shimmered on the brink of tears, but never shed a drop. Crying and heavy bursts of emotion seemed alien to him, like the many languages he couldn't understand.
“Baker was my mother's maiden name. I changed it once I turned eighteen in rebellion, and it made it harder for them to find me. And you know three main things about me that matter: I'm not like most people, I promised to protect you, even from myself, and that I'm in love with you. Everything else is gravy.”
The sound of the L word from his lips made my knees buckle, but I kept my resolve. I simply logged the sentiment away to review at a later date, a free time when people I cared about weren't in mortal peril.
Taking my hand back, I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. “I don't wanna talk about this now. I gotta go see my mom.”
He lowered his gaze to the floor and nodded. “But we will talk about it,” he vowed as I brushed past him to leave the room.
26
T
he sleepless night began once I entered the waiting room and caught the angry look on Dad's face.
With language that would get him banned from his church, he revealed how Mr. Peter Marshall, otherwise known as Mr. Absentee-Grandpa, had graced the hospital with his presence. Ignoring Dad, Grandpa had thrown his weight and money around, as if he had a right after seventeen years of abandonment. When he insisted that Mom stay at his house to recuperate, Dad just about hit the ceiling.
The two went into a long-awaited scrap, bringing up two decades of animosity and making their personal business available to staff members and patients. Security intervened before the two men came to blows. Grandpa shot a parting threat to enforce legal action and some crap about power of attorney.
I was thankful for missing the fallout. I haven't cussed anyone out in a good minute, and Grandpa was a perfect target to unleash my manner of hell. Once the nurse's back turned, I snuck inside Mom's room for five minutes, just to touch her and find physical evidence of her vitality.
She looked so fragile lying there, wrapped in tubes with monitors twittering away. The nurse had reported that Mom was coming in and out of consciousness, so I wasn't too surprised when her eyes fluttered open. Attempting a smile that looked painful, she asked if I was okay. Even now, she worried about her baby, which brought another bout of tears.
The medicine made her a bit loopy, but that didn't prepare me for the next question from her mouth. “Where's Nathan? Is he all right?”
I had to shake myself out of the daze and reel in all composure. There was no proper response to that question, none that would prevent my admission into the loony bin. Recalling her reaction when Caleb first came to my house, I knew it was a lost cause to pitch a fit about Mr. Ross. I assured her that he was fine, and insisted that she get her rest.
After leaving her room, I ate stale Cheetos and juggled phone calls from Mia, Nadine, and Caleb. The game of phone tag lasted for hours, resulting in several trips outside to use my cell, because my service provider doesn't like hospitals. Nadine and Caleb had searched over twenty hotels on the main strip and found not a whisper of Mr. Ross or Haden's whereabouts. The frustration and fatigue channeling through the phone were becoming contagious.
“Yes,” I said, assuring Caleb for the millionth time. “I promise I'm—”
A tall figure stood between the cars, watching me. The night masked his face, but not the chill of his presence. The man embodied a persistence that put Mia's stalker technique to shame, practically daring me to make a move.
“Sam?” Caleb called.
I tried to respond, but nothing came out.
“Sam?” Caleb said, his voice pitching a little. “Are you okay? What's happening?”
Two words managed to escape. “He's here.”
I ended the call and raced back inside. That probably scared Caleb into the next life, but I needed to find refuge and stand guard around Mom.
Peering out of the window, I did surveillance of the parking lot when a commotion by the entrance caught my eye. A team of doctors pulled a man under a sheet out of a car and loaded him on a gurney. Caleb and Nadine raced onto the scene, shoving their way toward the doors. Seeing the man under the sheet, Caleb grabbed at the sheet, almost pulling the man off the stretcher. Telling by how Caleb fought and reached for the victim, it couldn't have been Mr. Ross, but someone of more significance. A doctor pushed Caleb back, urging him to stay behind and let them work. After a few attempts at reason, Caleb complied and remained behind the procession.
I searched the parking lot and saw no sign of Mr. Ross, not that I expected him to remain at the scene. He may have disappeared from sight, but this wasn't over. The question was, could I fight him off? If what Nadine had said was true, if that draw could persuade me, how could I repel it? It was one thing to fight an outside force, but it was another thing to fight one's own mind.
Staring out to the waiting area, I took in the illusion of normal: the plastic chairs, florescent lights, and the dozing loved ones of the sick. All these things met the naked eye, so people had no reason to look any further. Even Dad, the strongest man I knew, was blind to what lurked in the dark.
A part of me envied it, wanting more than anything to go back to the first week of summer, a time where I could say in all confidence that the bogeyman wasn't real. But that dream had ended and there was no going back to sleep. There was nothing left to do now but find another insomniac to help me.
All arrows pointed to Caleb, which ticked me off even more. I didn't want to need him, but he was the only operative in my brigade, forcing me to break down and dry swallow that pill of pride.
As if thought alone conjured him there, Caleb rushed from the elevators, panic-stricken and out of breath. His sweaty brown hair was plastered to his forehead as he whipped around the hall. After spotting me, he stopped short and pulled me into his arms.
“You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered.
I knew he wasn't lying. His body shook as his heart pounded against my chest. Peering over his shoulder, I saw Nadine standing next to us.
A somber cloud darkened her features. “We found Haden unconscious in a car in the parking lot. His father must have brought him here. He's got a nasty knot on his head. The doctors are looking at him now downstairs.”
It wasn't what I expected, but at least one puzzle got solved. “Is he all right?”
“He's alive. That's all that matters.”
His response gave me a chill. “What happened to him? Was your dad holding him hostage the whole time?”
“Looks that way. He's wearing the same clothes he had on when he came to my house. I can only imagine what he's gone through.”
“You said you saw Mr. Ross?” Nadine broke in.
“Yeah, he was standing in the parking lot, just watching me.”
Nadine frowned with concern. “Did he make eye contact? Did you feel an urge to go to him?”
“No, I didn't stay long enough for his roommate to pull me in.”
She looked puzzled. “His roommate?”
“That's what she calls it,” Caleb joined in. “But anyway, we need to wait until Brodie and Michael get here to work up a plan. How's your mother?”
“She's doing pretty well, except for the fact that she asked for your dad.”
Nadine shook her head. “That's not good.”
“I'll say,” I said.
“No, that means she might still be under his draw.” Nadine looked around the waiting room. “We should be fine for now, but once she is strong enough, she might try to seek him out.”
My smile dropped. “Tell me you're kidding.”
“Trust me; we need to grab him before he does any more harm,” Caleb said grimly.
A deep voice behind me made me jump. “Excuse me.” “Dad!” I cried, whipping around to see him.
“Aren't you going to introduce me to your friends?” Dad asked, sizing up the man next to me.
“Um, yeah. Daddy, this is Nadine Petrovsky. She works with me at the café. And this is my boyfriend, Caleb Baker.” Stepping aside, I motioned for Caleb to walk toward his imminent demise.
When they shook hands, Caleb didn't even flinch at Dad's kung fu grip.
“Nice to meet you, young man. I hear you've taken an interest in my daughter?”
Caleb held his own, looking the big man square in the eye. “I have, sir. I care a lot about her.”
“I was wondering if I could take a moment of your time to talk.” Dad stretched his arm to point toward the chairs in the back, indicating that his statement wasn't a question.
Lifting his head high, Caleb began his death march toward the mother of all inquisitions.
“Want a Jolly Rancher?” Nadine held a bag of hard candy in front of me, a welcoming distraction. “I have feeling this will be a while. Let's sit and you can tell me how you'll make honest man out of Caleb.”
I fished out a cherry-flavored one, then took a seat. “It's a little too soon for that.”
“It is never too soon to plan, and the best ones require time.” Nadine sat next to me and sucked down her sour-apple treat.
“Since the beginning, you've been pushing me on Caleb. Why do you think I'm such a good match for him?” I popped the candy in my mouth.
“Because you're both stubborn and guarded, yet secretly crave passion. You both battle duality and war with your identity. You know what it's like to exist in two worlds, and you love sweets as much as he does.” She looked at me, her eyes twinkling with humor. “He speaks of you often. It is usually complaint, yet his eyes glow with desire. He loves the fight in you.”
Wow! It's hard being called out on so many issues at once. I wasn't ready to look into that mirror, so I steered the conversation elsewhere. “So, his spirit likes willful women?”
“No, is not that. Women constantly throw themselves at Caleb. To have one out of hundreds not give a damn if he lives or dies is refreshing. The human side of him gravitates to it; it is intriguing. In time, the spirit will recognize your presence and accept it,” she encouraged, but I wasn't getting my hopes up.
“I can't think about that right now. This is all new to me, and I need to get my mom squared away.”
“I understand, but those who know about us stay close to us. We have difficulty letting them go, hence the issue with Mr. Ross.” Nadine took a deep breath. “The torment of losing his wife drove him insane. We love very, very deeply, Sam, because we don't do it often. We cannot afford to, as you can see.”
“Caleb said that about me.”
“Maybe you two are meant for each other.”
I gave her a hard look. “Can we focus on Mr. Ross instead of playing matchmaker?”
“I call it like I see it. Caleb never acts this way around any woman. In fact, he has been distant these few years.”
“I should say so. His dad is a killer. When an animal is lame or ill, the humane thing to do is put it down,” I intoned.
“You sound like Caleb. You know real reason he's in the States? To flee his father and avoid temptation to kill him. He was determined to do what his brothers could not. Caleb tells me that he tried to kill Mr. Ross twice: once with poison, then tried to shoot him in his sleep.”
The reply was like a punch in the face. That didn't sound like the Caleb I knew. “Really? What happened?”
“Obviously, it didn't work. Caleb says he came close, but he couldn't do it.”
“Why?”
“Our spirits are connected to their source. Their instinct is self-preservation. The spirit will not harm itself, and it will not allow us to either.”
“So Caleb didn't kill him because Capone is still tight with Big Daddy's spirit.”
Nadine's lip twitched, fighting the urge to laugh.
“You have strange way of summing things up,” she said. “But yes, that is the problem. The deeper the bond to spirit, the less we can harm its source. Caleb is not close with his spirit. He ignored it for years, ignored our advice and teachings. His detachment is blessing and curse. I heard he shot Mr. Ross in the leg. Caleb has excellent shot, by the way. Have you seen his crossbow?”
Nadine boasted as though having a trigger-happy friend was run-of-the-mill. But at least it explained why Mr. Ross had a limp.
“So what do we do now?” I asked, steering the topic back to our present dilemma.
“You can tell me whether or not you love Caleb.”
I scowled. “Oh, so you gonna grill me now?”
“Better me than Caleb's brothers. They don't play nice.” She looked at me for a moment and repeated her question. “Do you love him?”
“If I do, I can't identify it. I have no source to draw from. I feel deeply, but that could mean anything. Plus, he's got enough baggage to sink a cruise liner. How could I possibly get past this?”
Nadine nodded. “Now you see why we can't love freely like others do? It takes a strong person to love who we are, and when we find that one person, it's impossible to let them go. I know the grief of lost love, a pain I wish on no one. So if you are not sure, you need to end it now before it's too late, before his spirit is used to having you around.”
“That sounds sinister.”
“It doesn't have to be if you feel the same. You must be sure. For your sake as well as Caleb's.”
“No pressure, Sam, really,” I sighed.
“No pressure at all,” Nadine returned with a wink.
 
When the Man Meeting adjourned, Dad dismissed Caleb with a handshake laced with fatal caveats. Seated in the corner, Dad flipped open his laptop as if pleased to know that my virtue was intact. Caleb reached our side of the room, looking exhausted and confused.

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