NOCTE (Nocte Trilogy #1) (27 page)

She’s fragile and scared and
alone, and now she’s broken.
 

He broke her.
 

Scowling, I pick up her phone,
making sure that he didn’t text again.
 
I deleted his answer before, the pitiful
I miss you too.

Fuck him.
 

Fuck anyone who wants to hurt
her.
 

I can’t save her if she keeps
getting hurt.
 

But the world is like that. The
world is ugly and painful and that’s how I’ll fix it.
 
The answer comes to me as clear as a
bell.
 
The world is too painful.
There’s only one way to stop it, to fix it.
 

Fix it.
 

I will.
 

I will.
 

Fix it.
 

Consider it done.
 

I tell that to the voices and it
seems to appease them because they’re silent for
a minute as
I bend and kiss my sister’s forehead, then crawl
in bed behind her.
 

There’s a way. Only one
Only
one Only one.
 

Fix it.
 

TRIGENTA
SEPTEM

Calla

Sunlight
floods my room and I wake up feeling… alive again.
 

I don’t know why.
 

Maybe it was Finn’s indignation last
night, his plea,
his
demand to get my ass out of bed
in the morning.
 

I’m not sure what it was that worked,
what broke through my self-pity, but here I am, sitting on the edge of my
bed.
 

It’s lunchtime and I’m up.

I smell food drifting through the house,
so I pad down the hall and find my father and Finn in the kitchen.

I sit down without saying a word.
 
I haven’t combed my
hair
,
I haven’t put clothes on
. But they both
pretend not to notice.
 

Finn makes a plate for me, sliding it
across the table.
 

“Are you feeling better?” he asks
carefully.

I nod, staring at my food, taking a
bite.
 

“You’ve been in bed for four days,” he
adds, his eyes trained on my face.
 

“Four?”
 
My gaze shoots up and meets his, then my
father’s.
 
My father nods, his face
carefully expressionless.
 

I look back down.
 

“I was tired.”
 
I pause, noting how white my hands look
holding the fork.
 
Pale, skinny,
listless.
 
I do need to get up.
 
I need some fresh air.
 
I need to stop being pathetic. But
first… “Did
Dare
call?” I can’t help but ask.
 

There’s a pause, then my dad nods.
 

“And?” I hear the hope in my voice and
hate it.
 

“And nothing,” he says firmly.
 
“He was just checking on you.
 
You’re not ready for this, Calla.
 
You’ve been through too much these past
couple of months. You’ve got to focus on yourself, not Dare.”

Pain shoots through me and I look away
from him, out the window, out at Dare’s empty Carriage House.
 

They don’t understand.
 
He’s what has kept my head afloat these
past few weeks.
 
I don’t know why
I’m depending on him so much, I just am. And then I sent him away, because
apparently, I’m a lunatic.

I take a second bite.
 
“Thanks for the plate,” I tell Finn.
 
He nods.
 

I chew and swallow, careful not to look
at my father.
 
I’m still pissed at
him.
 

I’m so pissed that my lungs feel hot and
my throat feels tight.

I take a third bite.
 
As I chew, it begins to feel like
sawdust in my mouth, like I’ll never be able to swallow it because my throat is
too hot, because I can’t breathe.
 

What
the hell?

Confused, I look at my plate.
 
Polish sausage,
sauerkraut, apples… and pecans.
 

Pecans.
 

My hands immediately fly to my throat
because after three bites, it’s already swelling shut.
 

I wheeze, trying to breathe.
 
Warmth spreads through my chest as all
the vessels in my lungs start to enlarge.
 
I can feel each individual one, pulsing in my ribcage, stretching,
swelling.

“Dad,” I manage to say, getting up from the
chair. He rushes to grab me, and I fall into his arms, trying to breathe with
stiff lungs.

I suck in a breath, but it won’t
come.
 
The air can’t get into the
swollen tissue of my throat.
 
It’s
like a vise, constricting and squeezing.

I’m a fish out of water, and everything
turns to noises, but I can’t understand the words.
 
The light blurs into one large color,
and I think of one last thing before there’s nothing more.
 

Someone just poisoned me.
 

***

Before
I open my eyes, I know where I am.
 
I also know why.
 

Someone fed me nuts.
  

Someone.

Finn.
 

That knowledge is dizzying, and so I
focus instead on where I am.

I recognize the sterile medicinal smell
of the hospital. I listen with my eyes closed, hearing the rubbery squeak of
the nurses’ shoes, the beeps of the machines, the low murmurings out in the
hallway.

I have a tube in my nose.
 
Oxygen.
  
The room spins, and I shift it
back into focus.
 

Concentrate,
Calla.

I open my eyes and the room spins. I
shift it back into focus.
 

“Calla?”

My dad’s voice is calm and low.
 
Shifting my gaze without moving my head,
I find him in the corner chair, watching me in concern.

“I’m not dead?”

He smiles.
 
“No. Thank God.”

My memory is blurry. “There were nuts,” I
recall.
 
“In my food.”

My father cringes. “Yes. I’m sorry,
Calla.
 
I didn’t see….”

“How long have I been here?” I ask.
 
My voice is scratchy, my throat
raw.
 
I know from experience that
they probably shoved a breathing tube down it.
  

“About four hours.
 
We called an ambulance.
 
You were out the whole time.
 
You’ll be fine now. By tomorrow, you’ll
be good as new, but they want to keep you overnight for observation.”

I nod.
 

I feel heavy, groggy,
slow
.
 

“What’s wrong with me?” I ask
slowly.
 

“They gave you something to calm you
down,” my father says hesitantly.
 
His eyes are on my
face,
like he’s worried I’m
going to fly off the handle.
 
Did I
before?

“Where’s Finn?”

My father looks away. “He can’t be in
here, honey.”

“Why?”

My father sighs, and looks back to me.
“You know why, Calla.”

I close my eyes.
 
Because Finn knows I’m allergic to
nuts.
 
He knew and he gave them to
me anyway.
 

Is that his version of saving me?
 
Saving me from what?
 
Sadness?
 
Was his plan to kill me, then himself?

Pain ripples through me, slow, then hard,
then unbearably, like a wave.
 

“I need to see him,” I say, the words
cutting my lungs.
 

“No.”
 
My father’s voice is firm.
 

I curl up on my side, looking away, out
at the clouds having over the parking lot.
 

“Where is he?” I ask without looking at
my father. He doesn’t answer, which sends chills down my spine.
 

“It’s my fault,” I tell him, turning over
so that I’m looking him in the eye now. “It’s not Finn’s fault.
 
It’s mine.
 
I read his journal, I knew he was
slipping and I should’ve told you, but I didn’t.
 
He wants to save me from pain, dad.
 
He wasn’t trying to hurt me. It’s not
his fault, it’s mine.”

My voice takes on a jagged, desperate
edge and my dad rubs my arm.
 
“Calm
down, sweetie.
 
Everything’s going
to be ok.”

“It’s not,” I insist, my voice
shrill.
 
“Don’t punish Finn. Don’t
put him in the hospital, dad.
 
It’s
my fault. Not his.
 
Not his.”

I’m practically screaming now, writhing
in the bed trying to get up, but my dad holds me down, pleading with me.
  
Before I know it, nurses have come
in, two of them, one for each side.
 
One injects something into my IV and then all of my agitation slips away.
 
My anger is gone, my frustration
non-existent.
 

“Please call Dare,” I whisper.
 
“Please.”

And then everything is black.
 

TRIGENTA
OCTO

Finn

“Let me go!” I shout, squirming to get away from the
nurses.
 
“I didn’t hurt her.
 
I didn’t! I just had to help her.
 
Don’t you see?”

No one can see and no one cares.
 
They just wrap my wrists with elastic
bands and fasten them to the bedframe.
 

I whimper into the pillow before
I bite it.
 
I’d never hurt
Calla.
 

Never.

I’m doing all of this
for her.

“Let me go,” I plead them.
 
“I can’t leave her by herself.
 
Please.
 
I’ll be good. I’ll be good!”

But they ignore me and when I
look up, I see my father’s face pressed against the glass.
 

I call out to him, but he
doesn’t answer.
 
In fact, his face
slips away and doesn’t come back.
 

“Come back,” I whisper.
 

But he doesn’t.

My tears are hot, as I think
about my sister, huddled somewhere in this hospital, alone and scared and thinking
that I tried to kill her.
 

I would never.
Would I?

YouDidYouDidYouDid.
 
Don’tYouRemember?
 
The voices are laughing at me, hissing
and shrieking.
 
YouDidYouDid.

I didn’t.
 

I couldn’t.

But my hands are handcuffed to
this bed and there is no arguing that.
 

I fed her the nuts.
 
There’s no denying that, either.
 

I close my eyes against the
chanting in my head, trying to block them out.
 
SisterKillerSisterKillerSisterKiller.
 
You’reaMonster. Monster. WeControlYou
WeControlYou.

Monster.

TRIGENTA
NOVEM

Calla

When
I open my eyes, I immediately focus on Dare sitting next to me.
 

He’s sprawled in the recliner, his eyes
closed, his hands gripping the armrests. He’s long and slender and lithe. He’s
beautiful and dark and
here.
 

He’s here.

I take a deep breath and blink to make
sure I wasn’t imagining it.
 

He’s still there.
 

“Dare,” my whisper is throaty and
raw.
 
I figure he won’t hear me, but
he does. His eyes fly open and meet mine.
 

And then he’s out of his chair and on his
knees next my bed, his forehead pressed to mine.
 

“Cal,” he says, his lips brushing my
skin.
 
“Thank God.”

“How are you here?” I ask in
confusion.
 
“Did my dad…”

Dare nods.
 
“You asked him to call me, and he did.”

Bless
him.
 
A surge of gratitude rushes through
me.
 
“Where is he? Is he with Finn?”

“I don’t know,” Dare answers.
 
“I told him I would sit with you until
he came back, though.”

I close my eyes and inhale him, his musky
outdoorsy smell. “Don’t leave me,” I tell him.
 
“Please.
 
You promised once, remember?”

He nods.
 
“I do.
 
And I won’t. Don’t tell me to again.”

I nod.
 
I
won’t.
 

He strokes my hand, his fingers smooth.
“What do you remember, Cal?”

“Finn made me a plate,” I tell him. “I
took three bites and then realized that there were nuts.
 
Pecans.”

Dare closes his eyes.
 
“You’re lucky to be here,” he tells me
without opening them.
 
“Your dad
said even one nut could kill you.
 
You barely made it to the ER.”

“But I did,” I remind him. “I’m here
now.
 
Please don’t let them keep
Finn.
 
He didn’t mean to hurt me. I
know he didn’t. He would never….”

But
Dare
sits up
and rocks back on his heels.
 
“I
don’t know what they’re going to do,” he says vaguely. “It’s not up to me.”

I close my eyes, pain ripping through my chest.
 
“Maybe you were right. Maybe I do need
to leave here.
 
Maybe I’m a crutch
for him… or maybe I’m even a worry for him.
 
He hates that I’m sad about mom.
 
Maybe he just wanted to end my
grief.
 
If I left, he could focus on
himself… not on me.”

“And you could focus on
yourself,”
Dare adds. I open my eyes and
his face is so tired, so drawn.
 
I
reach out and touch it, my blue hospital bracelet sliding down my forearm.
 
When did I lose weight?
 
My arms are so skinny.

“I trust you,” I blurt suddenly.
 
“I trust you to tell me about yourself
whenever you’re ready.”

Dare flinches now. “It’s not about me
being ready.
 
It’s just…
 
I can’t add to your burden, Cal.
 
After
this
, can’t you see that?”
 

This.
My burden.
 
My
brother trying to kill me.

Will it never end?

“I’m sorry for all of this,” I tell him
quietly as I stare at his tired face.
 
“I’m sorry that my life is crazy.”

He looks around and shudders. “You almost
died, Calla.”

“I was handling it,” I defend myself and
Finn.
 
“Finn needs me.
 
I was handling it.”

“Were you?” Dare raises an eyebrow.
 
I look away.
 

“His journal is in my bedroom.
 
As soon as I get out of here, I’ve got
to finish it.
 
I just feel, somehow,
that it’s the key.
 
I’ve got to read
it all.”

Dare stares at me, his gaze as dark as
night.
 

“Are you sure?”

I nod.
 
“I’m positive.
 
I’ve been reading it bits at a time, but
it’s time that I finish it.
 
Do you
know when they’re letting me out?”

Dare shakes his head.
 
“I don’t know.
 
I think they said maybe in the morning,
depending on how you’re doing.
 
You
were really upset last night.”

“Of course I was!” I snap. “They’re going
to lock my brother away.”

Dare stares at me, sympathetic.

“Do what they say today, and I’m sure
they’ll let you out in the morning.”

I nod and he holds my hand.
 

 
“What if I decide that I want to move to
Berkeley early?” I ask him before I go to sleep.

He squeezes my fingers.
 
“Then I’ll go with you.”

“And if I want to stay here?”

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.”

That’s all I need to hear.
 
Peace fills me up and I fall asleep. And
in the morning, they let me go.
 

“I want to ride with Dare,” I tell my
father.

Dad stares at me, his eyes at once sad
and resigned.

“Ok.”

“And if Dare wants to rent the Carriage
House again, I want you to let him.”

He nods.
 

“Anything else?”
 
His voice is brittle.
 

“Yes.
 
I love you.” I throw my arms around his
neck because even if he interfered where he shouldn’t have, he did it because
he loves me.
 
When he pulls away, his
eyes are misty.
 

“Go on, then.
 
I’ll be home after while.”

“Can I see Finn before I go?”

He stares at me regretfully.
 
“I’m afraid not.”

I nod, a lump forming in my throat.
 

“Will you bring him home with you?”

“I’ll try,” he promises.
 

That’ll have to be enough.
  

Dare walks me out of the hospital and to
his bike, handing me my helmet.
 
I
wrap myself around his waist and we ride with the wind in our faces.
 

Freedom has never felt so good.
 

LIVE
FREE.
 
I understand that phrase now more than I
thought I ever could.
 

When we get home,
Dare
pauses.

“I want to stay with you when you read
the journal.
 
Is that ok?”

He’s hesitant and sweet as he lingers on
the bottom step of my porch.
 
I’m
self-conscious that he thinks I’m so fragile, but I nod anyway.
 

“Ok.”

He follows me to my room and sits at my
desk while I curl up on my bed.

“Just pretend I’m not here,” he advises.

I shake my head, but that’s exactly what
I do.
 

I ignore the sexy British heartthrob
sitting two feet from me, and instead, focus on saving my brother.
 

To do that, I dive into his journal.
 
I’ve only got a quarter of it left to
read. I begin skimming through it, and it weaves its way back and forth between
being lucid and crazy.
 

Ignore her.

Ignore it all.

Deus adiuva me.
 
God help me.
Me. Me.

God help me.

Nocte liber sum.

By night I am free.

I have to protect my secret.
 
Have to have to have to.

This gibberish continues for pages, with
pictures and phrases and words, until I come to one particular page.
 
There’s a drawing of
me
and Finn, sitting on top of the cliffs
.
 
Finn is throwing his medallion over the
side.
 

She needs it now.
 
Not me not me not me.

Protect her from me.
 
Protect her from me.

Protect her from me.

Love is stronger than death than death than death.

Love is stronger than death.

End this end this end this.

End this all.

Please god.

Please.

“Protect her from me,” I whisper, ice
water pumping through my veins.
 
“Finn knew he was going to do something to me.
 
He was afraid of it.
 
He kept trying to give me his St.
Michael’s medallion to protect me. But I kept giving it back.”

I feel limp and shell-shocked as I stare
at Dare.
 

“He knew he was going to hurt me. He
couldn’t help it.”

Dare’s eyes are stormy. “So he gave you the
nuts to protect you?”

I nod, the knowledge cutting through me
to my heart.
 
“He’d never hurt
me.
 
He only wanted to help me.
 
It’s the only way he knew how in the
state he’s in.”

“Have you figured out his secret?”
 
Dare’s question is solemn.
 
I shake my head.
 

“No.
 
He keeps referencing it. He says
I
have to protect my secret.
 
But
he doesn’t say what it is.”

Dare opens his mouth to speak, but Finn’s
voice is louder, thunderous, coming from the door.

“What are you doing with my journal?” he
demands, his skin pale and his blue eyes paler. His expression is stormy
though, furious.
 
“You said you
couldn’t find my journal, Calla.
 
Did you have it all along?
 
Did you hide it from me?”

I stammer, trying to form a reply, but he
won’t let me.

“This is bullshit, Calla,” he snaps.
“I’ve been killing myself with guilt and trying to figure out a way to help
you, and you’ve been going behind my back all along.”

He stands still, so furious that he’s
shaking.
 
“You want to know my
secret?” he asks, icily calm now.
 
I nod, terrified.
 
“Then come find out.”