Shattered Dreams: A Midnight Dragonfly Novel (19 page)

“They must have found something,” she speculated yet again. “Do you think—”

I cut her off with my eyes. “I don’t know.”

And I didn’t. I only knew that Detective LaSalle had taken me more seriously than he’d let on, alerting precincts around local airports to be on the lookout for anything strange involving a white truck.

Late in the day, shortly before the vigil, the call came in. An officer in Kenner had gotten a report from an older man about a white truck driving recklessly away from a field north of Louis Armstrong Airport. The truck had swerved, sideswiping the older man’s car …

But I did not know how to draw the connections for Victoria. Because without my dream, the dots were just dots, random and without consequence.

And I wasn’t ready to talk about my dream.

“Omigod, I swear I’m getting eaten alive,” she said, swatting at her neck and then her arm, as she’d been doing ever since we arrived. Situated between the Mississippi and Lake Pontchartrain, the field was essentially a marsh. “If I get West Nile—”

I glanced at her, struck by how beautiful she looked despite the heat and humidity and near-complete darkness. Her hair was loose, sticking to the sides of her face. Her eyes were agitated.

“I know,”
she whispered before I could say anything, then glanced back to where men both in and out of uniform searched for Jessica. “I’m sure Jess would much rather be standing here with the mosquitoes then out there…”

I felt something sharp and desperate flash through my eyes. “We don’t know that she’s out there.”

“No,” Victoria agreed. But her voice betrayed her doubt.

The red-orange glow faded, turning trees into specters. Shadows deepened until even they slipped into darkness. The crowd grew.

“I’ll be back,” Aunt Sara said, while on my other side, Victoria texted like crazy. “I’m going to see if I can find anything out.”

I looked up into her eyes, and felt the jolt of her conviction. “I’m okay,” I said, but she hesitated before taking off toward a few uniformed officers standing near the Morgenthals. We’d seen Detectives Jackson and LaSalle only once, right when we’d arrived. Since then, they’d been out with everyone else.

“Omigod,” Victoria said, continuing only when I turned to look at her. “He says it’s all over the news.”

My body ached from standing in one place. “Who says?”

“Zach,” she said as her fingers flew across her phone. “The guy from the mall I was telling you about.”

I almost smiled. It was completely inappropriate, but for just that one fraction in time, having something else to think about, something other than Jessica and the heat and the mosquitoes, how badly I wanted a sip of water, was kind of like stepping into a nice cool blast of air-conditioning. “
That’s
who you’re texting?”

“He’s watching right now,” she muttered, distracted. “But he says he hasn’t seen us or anything.”

I’d noticed the news lights and cameras off to my right, hadn’t realized it was already after ten.

“He says the detectives got a lead, but no one knows what or from whom.”

Swallowing, I glanced back toward the edge of the horizon, where searchlights were little more than a glow. Somehow, even the barking of the dogs seemed innocent and benign.

“Lucas doesn’t mind you two talking?” I asked, needing to focus on something, anything other than the endless drag of second to second.

“Are you kidding?” Victoria said. “Lucas doesn’t know.”

I shot her a look. “You need to just break up with him, you know that, don’t you?”

She frowned. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

Earlier in the evening her hair had been silky straight. Now it curled into damp ringlets against her face and neck. She shoved at them, went back to texting Zach. I didn’t know much about him, other than that she’d met him while at the mall last weekend and had not only walked away with four new pairs of jeans, including the totally awesome Miss Me pair she’d worn tonight, with the fleurs-de-lis on the back pocket, but also the sales guy’s phone number. And he had hers. And he’d been texting ever since.

And she was still technically with Lucas.

I’m not sure how much time passed before a fresh wave of lights cut in from behind us, followed by the sound of car engines. I turned as they went silent, stiffened as the doors opened and the guys poured out.

Apparently the football game was over.

“Victoria!”
I tried to keep my voice soft. “Lucas is here!”

She made a faint muffled sound, and I could only hope she had the sense to tell Zach she had to go, because one by one Lucas and Pitre and Drew slid from the 1970s T-bird belonging to Chase’s cousin. And then he was there, too, not in the same car, but emerging from his Camaro.

My heart kicked all on its own.

Instinctively I took a step back as he scanned the clearing. I would have sworn his limp was more pronounced.

“Chase!” I heard Bethany call, and then he was closing in on the Morgenthals and the breath was rushing out of me.

Until Lucas spotted us and started over.

“I missed you tonight,” he said the second he reached us, and while the words were sweet, the quick whiff of beer was anything but. He caught Victoria around the waist and hauled her against him, and while she didn’t exactly go willingly, she didn’t hold her ground, either. It was crazy how fast she went from gushing about Zach to making out with Lucas.

I didn’t get how tight a hold he had on her, just because whenever she tried to break up with him, he cried.

Not wanting to stare, I stepped away and tried not to listen. My options were limited. Aunt Sara was nowhere in sight. I could continue to stand and wait, or I could slip away and give Victoria and Lucas some privacy.

I hated how tight my chest got. I hated how hard it was for me to walk away, because walking away meant walking toward, and the thought of that, of seeing Chase—

It made no sense. I’d never been one to run. But the thought of walking toward Chase turned me to blown glass all over again.

I’d taken five steps when Lucas’s voice stopped me.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

I’m not sure what made me twist around. The edge to his voice, maybe, or just instinct, the kind that came from knowing too many secrets. Turning, two things struck me first: the fear in Victoria’s eyes.

And the accusation in Lucas’s.

“It’s nothing,” she said.

But he so did not believe her. He tracked her, taking a step forward for every one she took back. “Then answer it.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then let me.”

“Lucas—”

“Give me your fucking phone!” he roared.

“No, it’s not—”

“It’s that Zach guy, isn’t it?”

“W-what? I don’t know anyone—”

“You think I’m dumb?” he snarled. “You think I didn’t see your Facebook page?”

I moved the second he did, racing toward them as he snagged her wrist like it was one of Chase’s passes. His hand closed around her flesh and jerked her toward him, slamming her body against his chest.

“Stop it!” I shouted as her head snapped back and I saw the terror in her eyes. “Let go of her!”

As if in slow motion, he looked up, and his eyes met mine.

I felt the splinter of poison clear to my soul. “This is none of your business, bitch.”

So much for keeping a low profile.

My heart pounded like crazy. He was so much bigger than me, but Victoria was even smaller than I was. “Just let go of her,” I said as calmly as I could. “I’m sure we—”

With a horrible sound somewhere between a laugh and a snarl, he yanked her closer, sliding his free hand down to press her up against him.

My last two steps went by in a blur. I didn’t take time to think or plan, just closed in on him and reached for his arm. To stop him—pull him away. Something. To make him leave her alone.

He struck out hard, fast, the back of his hand catching me in the chest and sending me flying backward.

SEVENTEEN

Everything went white. I felt the impact before the pain registered, before the breath rushed out of me and my head snapped back against the tree. Then I was sinking, crumbling like a rag doll.

Maybe I screamed—or maybe that was Victoria. It all happened so fast I don’t know. I just knew that I crumpled into myself and tried to breathe, felt myself gasping instead. And then there was this low roar and Lucas charging me like some kind of crazy person. I tried to roll away, crawl away, but it was happening too fast.

Then it all just stopped, like someone hit pause. But just as quickly the moment ran forward and Lucas was flying back, Victoria was crying, and someone was there, crouching down on the ground in front of me, and everything else just fell away.

“Trinity.”

I blinked, focused on the voice.

“Trinity.”
This time firmer, stronger, and then I felt the hands on my body—strong, tender, firm, gentle—and blinked again and finally focus settled back into place, and I saw him. Maybe for the first time ever—I saw him. Really, really saw him. His face …

There was no way to describe his face, or the crazy rush that went through me. His eyes were dark and ravaged, his mouth a hard line. He looked like he wanted to scoop me into his arms and crush something with his bare hands all at the same time.

The roar had been his.

“Chase,” I whispered, and even that, just his name, hurt.

Slowly other things began to register, and beyond Chase’s shoulder I saw Pitre slam Lucas to the ground and Victoria huddled with Drew, shaking.

“Get. Him. Away,” she said.

Pitre flashed a tight look, then one back at me. “Is she okay?”

Sprawled beside me, Chase nudged me between his legs and against his body. “I got her,” he said.

That was all Pitre needed to hear. He yanked Lucas’s hands behind his back much like his brother the cop probably did when making an arrest, and shoved him toward the parking area.

And then it was Chase and me—
again
—sprawled in the damp grass. He held me tight, so tight that I could hear the insane riff of his heart, and for the craziest of moments, I wanted to stay that way, safe in his arms, forever.

His arms were strong, solid, his hands gentle as he ran them along my body, inspecting inch by inch. When at last he pulled back and tilted my face to his, when I saw the way he looked at me, I wanted to cry. It was tender and possessive and protective, all those things I’d dreamed of my whole life.

“You okay?” he asked.

Throat tight, I nodded.

He looked down and took my hands, turned them palms up.

There was no way to hide the renewed surge of the blood.

“Son of a bitch,” he snarled, but already I was shaking my head and trying to scoot away.

He wouldn’t let me.

“Chase,”
I said, driven by something I didn’t understand. Something dark, and unsure.

I was starting to think about him too much. I was starting to turn to him, reach for him. Depend on him.

Trust him.

And I knew,
I knew,
it was wrong. He wasn’t the one. He couldn’t be. There were too many dark corners in my mind, corners I did not know how to share. One day he’d realize that. One day he’d be gone, and I’d be left with this huge gaping hole in my heart, and then what?

Then
what
?

“What’s going on?” he said through clenched teeth, and the remains of that crazy beautiful moment shattered, and it was still us, but the us of before, the us of the courtyard. “Why are you avoiding me?”

An unwanted sense of hopelessness clawed at me. “Chase—”

“What?” he said before I could finish.
“What aren’t you telling me?”

The suspicion in his voice, the sharp glitter of blue in his eyes, froze me. I didn’t know how to make him understand. Actually I was pretty sure that was impossible.
Look, Chase … I … um, see things. Know things. I know you saw an empty room last night, but I saw an old lady and a clock, and this supernatural mirror …

Against my chest, my mother’s amulet throbbed.

“You should go,” I whispered.

His eyes met mine, burned even hotter. “You should tell me the truth.”

I swallowed, said nothing.

“Did you get my texts?”

I nodded, and his face fell. “And before?” he said. “At the vigil?” And I could see him retreating, more than just his body, but him. Pulling back. Away. Like a tide returning to sea. “You didn’t want to see me.”

Again, through the tangle of dark hair, I nodded.

That look he’d had a few minutes before, the one that made him appear as if he wanted to punch something, twisted his face all over again.

“Please,” I said as I saw my aunt finally, finally hurrying toward us. I made myself stand, even though the field around me tilted and my body rebelled. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

He stood, forcing me to lift my face to see him. And it was all I could do to keep from reaching up to brush the bangs from his forehead—and diving right back into his arms.

In that moment it was all I wanted.

“Just go,” I whispered, because that moment didn’t matter, couldn’t matter. Only the moments yet to come. The moments that I saw and knew and felt.

The moments nobody else could even imagine.

Without another word, he did. Chase did exactly what I asked him to do, turned and walked away, toward the parking area where Pitre held Lucas shoved up against the old T-bird.

It wasn’t until Aunt Sara convinced me there was no point just standing around and that I should go, when I pulled off the road a few miles away and sat alone in my car while the radio softly played, that I closed my eyes, and cried.

*   *   *

For a long time I just drove, turning down streets with neither names nor lights, staring at the ramshackle structures on either side of me. Cars occupied some driveways. Most houses sat dark. Every now and then soft white glowed through windows. In those houses there would be people, a home.

The word lodged like a horrible knot in my throat.

I wanted to go there, go home. But I no longer knew where home was. Wasn’t sure I had one. The only home I’d ever known was among the pine and aspen in the mountains of Colorado. In New Orleans I was a guest, a visitor, someone unknown drifting through lives that had not asked for the interruption.