The Blood Between Us (6 page)

The drive to Wills was relatively short, and we sat in the car in the parking lot of my new dorm for a moment before getting out. A sudden, strange wave of nervousness washed over me. I was pretty sure Julian could tell, but I was grateful that he didn’t say anything. “I’ll be living in the tower, eh? I thought it was closed.”

“They refurbished it last summer. There are only four rooms up there, but they’re larger than the main-floor rooms.” Julian peered up out of the windshield, straining to see the top of the building. “With closets, even. So no more wardrobe and footlocker to worry about.”

I got out of the car. It was much easier to see the top of the tower from here. “Yeah, that’s great and all, but it looks like the trade-off is a whole lot of stairs.”

“The exercise will be good for your brain.” Julian grabbed the shopping bags from the backseat and pushed two of them across the roof to me.

“Yeah, but it’ll kill my thighs.”

As we walked into the main entrance of the dorm building, the familiar sights and sounds of move-in day flooded my senses. The bustle of people all trying to fit in the doors
at once. The high-pitched squeals from friends who hadn’t seen one another over the break. The
clackity-clack
of suitcases being pulled along the tile floor. New students and transfer students looking lost as they searched for their rooms. The scene had been the same in California as it was here, although in California we got to move in the full week before classes started. It sort of helped with the traffic, but really move-in day was move-in day everywhere.

Only, I wasn’t moving into some random new school somewhere in the country. I was back at the Wills Institute. Back at the place where I’d last lived with my parents. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t missed it, just a little bit.

When we finally reached the top of the tower stairs, I counted four doors on the floor. Which meant eight people would share the space, two to a room. When I’d left, there had been talk of making the dorms co-ed by room, but I couldn’t imagine that had been well received by parents. Wills had a relatively low teen pregnancy rate, and they probably wanted to keep it that way. “All guys up here?”

“Yes. And in case you’re curious, Grace is in a room two floors down, all the way on the other side of the building.” Julian led me to the farthest door on the left and dangled a key in front of my eyes. “Do you want to do the honors?”

I slid the key in the lock and turned it, twisting the
knob until the door swung open. The room was fairly small. Bare wooden beams crossed the ceiling. The walls were unpainted. It looked more like a storage room than a dorm room. All wood, no color, and just one small window. I raised an eyebrow as I looked around. “Are you sure they renovated it?”

“It’s not that bad. Actually, the architecture is quite charming.” Julian did have a point. If by “charming” he meant “prisonlike.”

“No offense, Julian, but you must annoy the crap out of Viktor with your unfailing optimism in all things.”

Julian walked through the door and set the bags on one of the beds. I reluctantly crossed the threshold and made my way into the room. I looked at the two identical beds, two identical dressers, two identical desks, and the small sink between the two identical closet doors. Considering how prisonlike it felt, I was both pleased and surprised not to find a metal toilet in the corner. Still, I had to glance back at the door behind me. I’d half expected to find iron bars blocking the opening.

Julian was happily removing clothes from the shopping bags, folding them, and putting them in one of the dressers. I set the rest of my bags, full of school supplies and toiletries, on the adjacent desk.

“Well then, that’ll do for now.” Julian surveyed his work with an air of accomplishment. “Why don’t we go collect your class schedule?”

Forty-five minutes later, I sat with Julian in the coffee shop just off campus looking over the classes for my senior year. Literature, chemistry, calculus, biology, economics, and . . . communication.

I bit the inside of my cheek, kind of bummed that I hadn’t been able to take forensics as well. “Looks like Viktor was able to get me into your class.”

“Oh good!” Julian shook a couple of sugar packets before tearing them open and pouring them into his steaming cup. “We’ll be spending our afternoons together.”

“Yeah.” I eyed the classes warily. Not that I found them intimidating. With such a small senior class, there was a fifty-fifty chance that I’d have at least one or two of them with Grace. I couldn’t imagine sitting in class with her every day. And I’d be damned if we were going to be lab partners.

Julian sipped his coffee, decided that it was still too hot, and returned the cup to the table. “You know you’re welcome to stay with us any time if you get sick of dorm life. No judgment. Just say the word.”

“Julian.” I placed my hand over his on the table and looked him in the eye. “I’ve got this.”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re happy.” He returned my pointed stare. “Are you, Adrien? Have you found happiness on the West Coast? Or whatever it is that you’re looking for out there?”

I sat back in my chair and sipped my latte. I wasn’t a huge fan of coffee, but a latte was a different story altogether. It was mostly milk and sweetener, with just enough coffee to make me seem mature, but without the bitter, nasty taste of actually drinking coffee. “Happy is a relative term. I’m okay. I keep busy. I laugh. I spend time with other people when the mood strikes me.”

“People? Hmm.” He raised an eyebrow at me as he took another sip from his cup. “A girlfriend, perhaps?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“A boyfriend, then?” I gave him a look—not to deny anything, but to ask him to back out of my personal life. He held up his palms defensively. “I just want to know that you’re talking to someone when you have a bad day.”

Boyfriends. Girlfriends. Aardvarks. Whatever I might be in to, it was my business and mine alone.

“I have friends. We talk sometimes.” I took another drink and glanced around the café. For the first time, it really hit me that I had left Connor and all my friends on the other side of the country. And even a month was a long time
to be away. Who
would
I talk to here when I had a bad day?

“What do you talk about? Your family? About what happened?” He was looking at me over the rim of his coffee cup in that way that adults do when they want you to know that they’re concerned about your well-being. That way that said,
I know I’m prying, but I’m only doing so because I care
.

“No. Never about that.” This was just what I needed. It wasn’t bad enough that I’d been dragged away from my life in California to spend time with Grace—now he wanted to talk about my dead parents. One of Viktor’s conditions of my moving out west was that I’d see a counselor to deal with my grief. I’d gone twice. As far as I was concerned, it had been enough to fulfill my obligation—especially considering I hadn’t wanted to go see the guy in the first place. “Why would I talk about that?”

“Because maybe talking about it will ease your pain.” I knew that he was only trying to help. I knew that he had the best of intentions. However, this was the one subject that I didn’t want to talk about. With anyone. Male. Female. Whatever. As far as I was concerned, the topic was off-limits.

“Julian.”

“I know. I know. I’m prying.” He returned his cup to the table. “Will you have one more dinner with us before we lose you to dorm life? It would make Viktor happy to have you for another night.”

When I hesitated to respond, he said, “Come on. I’ll make a pot roast.”

It was a tempting offer. Julian did make one hell of a pot roast. But I thought that I might be able to sweeten the deal. “And a cherry crumble?”

A smile settled on his lips. He knew exactly what I was doing. He also knew that Viktor was the whole reason I’d come back from California. There was no way I was going to say no to an evening with the two of them. “Of course.”

“When will you discuss things with Grace?” I had a feeling she would be invited to dinner as well, and I wanted to do my best to keep my promise. “Our arrangement?”

“Tonight.” Julian’s brow dropped. “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, I just . . .” A tension had settled at the base of my spine. “She may not agree. And then Viktor . . .”

“She’ll agree to keep the peace for Viktor’s sake, Adrien. You both care about him. There’s no reason she won’t.” He set his cup on the table and met my eyes. “Besides, I’m the one asking her, not you. She’ll say yes.”

After a quick run to the bookstore, we returned to my dorm room with a new leather messenger bag filled with all the books I’d need for the coming school year. The door swung open, revealing a thin boy in jeans and a short-sleeved plaid shirt. His hair was dirty blond and could have
used a comb. He looked surprised to see us, but quickly recovered and smiled. “Hey. I’m Quinn. You must be Adrien.”

“Yeah. I guess we’re roommates, eh?” I shook the newcomer’s hand.

“Looks that way. You all finished moving in?”

“I dropped some of my crap off earlier, but I won’t actually be here until tomorrow. Feel free to set up anything you want. Put your stuff wherever. I’m not picky.”

“Cool.” Quinn unzipped his suitcase as Julian and I headed for the door. “See you around.”

“Sure thing. See you tomorrow.”

Julian and I made our way down the stairs and out into the parking lot. We climbed into his car and started our journey back home.

“Julian, when can we get Maggie registered? I need to get her insured and grab a parking pass.”

“Maggie?” Much like Viktor, Julian didn’t look at me as he drove.

“You know what I’m talking about. Maggie. I want to get her back on the road.” Granted, the view from the passenger side of a Lexus was very nice, but it was nothing compared to the freedom of being in the driver’s seat. Especially being in the driver’s seat of a muscle car.

“Why would you want that old, beat-up relic?” He dared
a glance at me as he turned right out of campus. “I’m sure Viktor and I could help you find a newer car that’s in better shape.”

“There’s more to it than that, Julian.” It wasn’t a matter of want, really. That car was the last real connection I had to my father. “Dad always said that if anything ever happened to him, I got Maggie. Viktor gave her to me, and all she needs now are new tires, a tune-up, and a good handwash. Besides, you can’t say you really want to chauffeur me around all year, can you?”

Julian pulled his car into the garage and put it in park. “That car rolled off the assembly line seven years before I was born. It might not survive the school year.”

“Let me worry about that.” I grabbed Maggie’s key from the box in the hall and headed out the door. I could barely hear Julian as I rounded the end of the house.

“Please be careful, Adrien. Don’t get tetanus or anything.” His voice continued to trail off as I made my way across the grounds toward the barn. Toward my Maggie. “Dinner is at six.”

I pulled the hook from the latch and slid the barn door open. At one time, this barn had been used to house horses. But now it was storage for all sorts of items that Viktor didn’t want to throw away, but wanted never to see. Boxes were piled atop pallets along either side, next to several pieces of
furniture and old lamps that were covered by tarps. At the far end sat a large item, covered with a cloth tarp. Maggie. It had to be.

My feet moved soundlessly over the floor—slowly, even reverently, like I was in a place of worship. When I reached her, I placed my hand on the tarp that covered her and closed my eyes. A breath entered my lungs, deep and slow. With a longing that only a car guy could truly understand, I gripped a section of the tarp in my fist and pulled. The cloth moved over her back end, revealing that curvy black body I knew so well. Like a slinky dress unzipping and dropping to the floor, the tarp came free, revealing my sweet Maggie in all her glory.

“Well, don’t you look pretty, you sweet thang, you.” My lips lifted in a smile at the sight of her. She was the woman of my dreams, and we were together at last.

Despite the tarp, a thin layer of dust covered her, a few spots of it wiped away from where I’d removed the cloth. I wondered what she’d been up to in the past four years, my dirty girl, but the answer was obvious. Nothing. Nothing but waiting. Waiting for me.

As I stepped around to her driver’s side door, I could see that Viktor had been right about her tires. But when I slid the key into the lock and opened up her door, I found nothing but perfection inside. Black leather, clean gauges. She
looked ready to rock and roll. Pulling the hood lever, I got out and moved around to her front end. Her engine was just fine by the looks of it. She’d need a tune-up, of course. But she was in great shape, considering her long nap, and probably more than a little ready to get out of the barn. Girls like Maggie couldn’t be satisfied by quiet nights at home. She needed to go out and tear hell through the world, leaving nothing but a dust cloud and gaping mouths in her wake.

Slipping off my hoodie, I dropped it on her roof and headed to the front of the barn. In the shelves to the right of the door were an assortment of paints, thinners, cleaning supplies, and everything I’d need for an oil change. I’d have to pick up the rest of the stuff for a tune-up next time I was in town. The tires were another issue. I was going to need new ones, and that meant asking Viktor for a loan. Tires weren’t cheap, and I only had maybe ten bucks to my name. People always think that trust fund kids live high on the hog. So did I, until I became one. The way that my parents had set up my and Grace’s trust, our schooling and everyday expenses were covered, but there would be no disbursement of any real money to us until we each hit the age of twenty-one. Until then, it was Broke City. Not that I was complaining. They’d given me a good life. I had nothing to complain about, really. Except for Grace.

After I opened the barn door for ventilation, I picked
up the oil pan and headed back to Maggie. I slid inside the driver’s side door again, hoping like hell that she would start after such a long rest. When I slid the key into the ignition and turned it, her engine roared to life like it was nothing.