The Collector (27 page)

Blackness floods over me in a thick blanket.

It smothers everything that’s left of my life.

And with Charlie’s smiling face in my mind and her name on my lips, I let go.

Chapter Fifty-three

Rebirth

Bright light stings in front of my eyes, and I think to myself,
Really? This is death?

Lame.

But then I hear something, and I’m certain that’s not right because A) There’s no noise after death, and B) I shouldn’t actually be thinking at all.

My eyes open, and I see Charlie’s big, goofy grin, and I decide if this is eternity, I’ll take it.

“He’s awake,” she squeals.

That squeal. Do it again.
Please
, do it again.

Imaginary Charlie grabs my hands, and I pull my imaginary ass up in bed and stare. She looks exactly the way she did the last time I saw her—covered in small battle wounds but otherwise perfectly beautiful.

“Careful,” she says. “Don’t overdo it.”

I glance around and notice this place is like Grams’s house, all floral and tackiness with a mild stench of poor people. I love it so much I could scream.

“Overdo it? He can’t overdo it. He’s Dante Walker, am I right?” Max strides into the room, beaming like a real live person.

“Is this happening?” I’m surprised to hear my own voice and decide right then and there that I have a positively perfect Man Voice.

“Damn right it is,” Valery says, stepping out from behind Max. She wraps her arms around her fiancé and smiles up at him, then back at me. “We saved your ugly ass. Though I must say, removing your cuff? Idiot move.”

“It was heroic.” Charlie leans over and kisses my cheek. “And yes, idiotic.”

“I don’t understand,” I say, shaking my head. “How am I here?”

Charlie and Max glance at Valery, and I realize there’s something big I’m missing.

Valery clears her throat. “Um, there’s someone here to see you, if you’re up for more visitors.”

I nod, and they turn to leave.

“No, wait, don’t go. Not yet,” I say, sitting up straighter.

Valery’s mouth tugs into a sympathetic smile. “You’re going to want a minute. Trust me.”

The three of them leave the room, and a few seconds later, someone else steps inside. When I see him, my heart thumps hard inside my chest, and my mouth drops open.

“Dad,” I whisper.

My dad rushes toward my bed and pulls me into a hug. He holds me against him for several seconds, then takes my face in his hands. “My son. My D.”

“You’re alive,” I gasp, not able to believe he’s really here.

He grins, and I suddenly remember how much I’ve missed his face. It opens something wonderful inside of me.

“Kind of,” he answers. Tossing his leg onto the bed, he pulls his pant leg up and shows off a gold cuff wrapped around his ankle.

I gasp.
“
You
’
re a liberator
?”

“Nah, I got this cuff on loan,” he says, sitting on the side of my bed. “I put in a special request to help with your…situation.”

I can’t get any other words out, can’t do anything but stare at my father.

“Listen, Dante, I can’t stay long. But I wanted to tell you something.” He takes my hand and pats it hard. His eyes stay on my hand as he speaks, like it’s too difficult to meet my eyes. “That night. It wasn’t your fault. And I’ve watched you carry it around for two years.” My dad lifts his head and looks me dead in the face. “Let it go.”

I swallow past a lump in my throat. Finally, I choke out, “But if I’d been paying attention to the road instead of bitching about you missing my birthday…” Hot tears burn behind my eyes, but I refuse to cry in front of him.

“It as an accident, son,” he says firmly.

I bite down and stare at his hand over mine.

“Dante Walker, you tell me right now that you’ll let it go.”

“Fine, Mom,” I say.

My dad lets out a single sharp laugh. “Good,” he says, a smile sweeping across his face. “Now I want you to take this opportunity to be the man I know you can be.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about, but I’m too stunned by everything that’s happened in the last few minutes to do anything but nod. My dad—
my dad!
—pulls me into another hug.

“I love you, kid,” he says.

“You too, Dad.” I slap the outside of my dad’s arm in a friendly gesture but find myself holding onto him. For several moments, I study him in awe: his thick, gray-streaked dark hair, his wide shoulders and warm smile. Then, slowly, a sense of dread drowns out any other thought. He said his cuff was a loaner, which means he’ll have to leave soon. But he can’t leave. Now that he’s in front of me, I don’t know how I could handle seeing him go.

Almost as if he senses what I’m thinking, he stands from the bed and moves toward the door. He turns as if it pains him to do so and gives me a soldier’s salute.

“Dad…” I say.

“I know this is hard, me leaving,” he answers, his smile faltering. “But it has to be this way. I need you…I need you to say good-bye and keep living any way you can. Understand?”

Because I can’t speak, because I’d break down if I did, I salute him back, my chest full of fireworks.

He walks out the door, and I have to bite down to keep from begging him to come back.

Charlie pokes her head back in and walks to my side, the limp gone from her step. Valery and Max trail in after her.

“Will I see him again?” I ask Valery, hoping she knows the answer. Hoping they don’t notice my voice shaking.

She shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Seeing my dad is like…” I breathe, and a laugh tumbles out. “Amazing,” I finish. Inside my head, I try to balance the agony of losing my dad again with the joy of seeing him. “I don’t understand why he had to go,” I mutter. “And I still don’t understand how I’m even here.”

Max opens his mouth to answer, but Valery lays a hand on his chest. “Please, allow me.” Then, turning to me, she says, “The first question I can’t help you with. But the other…” She walks to the end of my bed and pulls back the covers. “Have a look-see.”

I bend at the waist and can’t believe what I’m seeing. “No,” I say.

“Yes,” Valery says with obvious delight. She clinks her long red nail against the gold cuff around my ankle.

“You fixed my cuff?” I ask, the happiness draining from my body.

“Not exactly,” she replies.

Charlie pulls my arm into her lap, and I glance at her. “You’re one of them now,” she says.

My eyes widen, and Charlie nods to assure me it’s true.

“Oh, hell, no,” I say, leaning down and pulling on the cuff. “I ain’t no angel.”

“You are now,” Valery says. “Your father delivered the cuff, straight from Big Guy himself. He apparently thinks you can be useful on the home team. You best be happy. You’d be rotting in the ground if it wasn’t for him.”

Hearing her words
rotting in the ground
, I glance around the room, hoping by some miracle I’ll see him.

“Blue?” I ask quietly.

Tears fill Charlie’s eyes, and I brush my thumb beneath them.

“You’ve been out for a while,” Max says gently. “Blue’s funeral was a few days ago.”

My throat burns as I think about my fallen comrade—my friend. He was the real hero. The reason Charlie’s alive and here next to me. The reason she’s safe. Thinking about him and my dad at once is nearly unbearable.

“And Annabelle?” I manage. “Does she know?”

Charlie nods. “I told her.”

The look on Valery’s face says she doesn’t agree with involving anyone else, but she doesn’t understand Charlie’s loyalty to her friends.

“What now?” I glance at Valery. “I mean, I have her soul, right? Do we just go upstairs and turn it in or something? If we give it to Big Guy, will that be it? Will the collectors leave her alone?” I squeeze Charlie’s hand in hope. But even as I ask the questions, I know there will be more battles ahead. Even if Ex-Boss Man didn’t get her soul, he still won’t want to risk leaving her alive on earth to bring Trelvator.

Valery shifts like she’s uncomfortable. “Um, we’ll have to wait for word on what to do.” Almost like she’s changing the subject, she says, “How’d you like Kraven?”

“Dude!” Max interjects. “For the hundredth time, why can’t I have ninja wings? Black or white, I’ll take either.”

Valery laughs and kisses his chin. Then she turns to me.

“Yeah, what was up with that shiznit?” I say, feeling a strange stab of jealousy that Rector knew how to sprout wings and I didn’t. “Did you know collectors and liberators could do that?”

Valery bites her lip. “No, I didn’t, actually. Not anymore, anyway.”

Max steps forward. “Valery says Big Guy and Boss Man took away our abilities back in the day so we didn’t get too powerful, but now that shit’s hittin’ the fan, we might be able to awaken them.”

“Okay, yeah,” I say, excitement granting me a small reprieve from pain. “Let’s get on that.” In my head, I imagine sprouting superhero wings and being unstoppable. If Rector and that Kraven guy can do it, then I can, too. I wonder what other mad skills I can awaken. I vow to figure it as soon as possible.

Valery and Max suddenly get pushed aside, and Grams strolls in, wearing enough perfume to freshen a landfill.

“Out,” she says, shooing Valery and Max from the room. “Come on. Man Child has to sleep.”

“Later, dude,” Max yells as Valery waves over his shoulder. Watching them leave, I wonder how long Max can hide from Boss Man. He’s committed treason, and it’s only a matter of time before the collectors are ordered to bring him in.

With my friends gone, Grams turns to face me and Charlie. “Now,” she says, a serious tone to her voice, “I’m going to close this door, and I don’t want any funny business. Understand? No making it or snogging or whatever it is you kids call it.”

“Grandma,” Charlie pleads.

Grams winks and grins like a fox, closing the door behind her. She obviously doesn’t know we’re the living dead, because I’m pretty sure that’d categorize us as Friends to Not Associate With. I wonder briefly if she’s admitted to Charlie yet that she’s sick. I know Charlie realizes what’s going on, so they both need to just face the facts. But maybe now’s not the time, not when the pain of Blue’s death is so raw.

Charlie’s face is stretched into a wide smile, but I can see the anguish behind her eyes for the friend who’s not here.

“Come closer,” I say.

Charlie crawls into the bed with me and lays her head against my chest. I wrap my arm around her and pull her as close as I can. If I could, I’d pull her inside of me, where I could keep her safe forever. Charlie’s presence makes everything easier. It makes me feel certain I’ll see my dad again, and that Blue is at peace.

“My sweet girl,” I whisper. “You’ll change the world.”

She digs her head deeper against my chest. “No pressure or anything.”

I laugh lightly. Then I stop and press my mouth into her hair, closing my eyes. “I love you, Charlie,” I say. “And I’m so sorry I ever lied to you.”

Charlie raises her head. I want her to tell me she’s forgiven me, that she won’t ever leave. That we’re going to be okay. But she doesn’t say anything. Instead, she leans forward and kisses me.

My lips move against hers, and the kiss says everything I’d hoped to hear. It tells me she loves me, and that she’s in this forever.

Her faith reminds me that I can have a second chance.

That I can leave behind who I was.

And be what I am now.

Bad to the bone.

Acknowledgments

There are so many bomb people who have helped me during this journey. First, a fist bump for my girl, Trisha Wolfe. You loved Dante from the start, and yes, he’s totally yours. To Mary Lindsey, Wendy Higgins, Veronica Rossi, C.C. Hunter, Rachel Harris, Jenny Martin, Lindsay Cummings, and Mindee Arnett, thanks for reading an early version and giving me valuable feedback. I heart your faces.

A big thank you to Kevin Maus who has a big house and completely nailed the trailer for my book. To my publisher and editor, Don Liz Pelletier, thank you for believing in Dante’s story enough to buy it.
Look.
Heather Riccio and Jessica Estep, you two are my publicists, and you are big pimpin’. To my agent, Laurie McLean, who gave me a chance and has sold my books like the hustler she is. Onward!

Hugs
to my friends who have supported me through every step, especially Gianina Bailey, Eiffat Karp, and Angee Webb. Also, to my peeps at the Lincoln Park B&N Starbucks, thanks for all the (decaf) coffee.

Tyse Kimball, my big sis, you talked me down more times than I can count during this process. You also beat the crap out of me that one time on the way to Grandma’s. Let’s call it a wash. Jeremiah Kimball, thanks for making my sis happy. I bet if I tried, I could totally sing better than you. Taylor Stanley, thanks for getting into YA books because your sister writes them. Also, you totally rocked the Christmas play this year. To my grandma, who loves me so deeply I almost don’t know how to handle it; I love you back times a million. Thank you also to my grandparents who have moved on to be with Big Guy; you’d make excellent liberators.

To the entire Scott family, especially Linda and Royce, thank you for being so welcoming and for always asking about my books. Love you guys!

To my mom, Vicky Stanley, who introduced me to books at an early age, and who celebrates every publishing milestone with me. I love you, Mama. And to my dad, Mark Stanley, who I love beyond reason, and who is never surprised when I accomplish something big. Hey Dad, short version, huh? Look who’s laughing now.

My deepest gratitude for the V Mafia and ALL my readers, thank you for embracing Dante. He and I know how lucky we are to have you.

To my husband, Ryan, you are my reason for breathing. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made. You and me, babe. Forever.

Finally, to God, who has mad swagger just like D-Dub. Thank you for blessing me with everyone I just mentioned. Sorry Dante is so bad. He’s getting better.