Accessory: The Scarab Beetle Series: #4 (The Academy) (3 page)

Despite my calling and leaving him a message, he never did call me back on my cell. I thought of a thousand reasons why, but now after Future admitted to getting my number from someone else, and the only other person she knew that knew me was Blake, I had to guess that Blake simply didn’t want to reach out to me. Maybe the boys had been right; he wanted to be left alone.

It surprised me how sad I was about that.

Marc studied me, his eyes tracing over my face. “Well, we can go find out, if you’d like.”

“Maybe now isn’t a good time,” Raven said, again in a low tone.

“You’re not scared, are you?” Marc asked, a smirk forming at his lips. “Come on, man, she’s been cooped up for weeks.”

Raven narrowed his eyes in a death glare at Marc. “Future was trouble last time.”

“
We
were trouble,” I said. “She was doing her job when she volunteered to help.”

Raven grumbled and then sat back in the driver’s seat, folding his arms. The ring in his lip stuck out far.

Marc shook his head and looked at me. “I still feel like we owe her, especially since she lost her job. It doesn’t hurt to check it out, especially with us there.”

“We can still say no,” I said, trying to show Raven some empathy, since he clearly didn’t want to do this. I didn’t really want to, either, in case it was something dangerous or stupid. “We should at least ask what she needs. Maybe she’s trying to hook up with someone at a party and needs a wing girl.”

“You’re not being a wing girl at a ritzy party,” Marc said.

“But then we can watch Future surprise some dude when she finally goes in for a hug or something and he finds her special package.”

Marc smirked, and the hair shifted away from his eyes, revealing a spark that leapt from his handsome face right into my soul. “That might be amusing.”

“We just watch?” Raven asked. “No wings?”

I nodded, liking the idea. I’d been cooped up for a while, and while crashing a boat party wasn’t exactly my flavor of fun, getting out of the house and paying back a friend at the same time might be worth it. “We’re just backup,” I said. “We’ll have paid up on our favor, and then we can go home.”

Raven hesitated, glancing at Marc again. There was a quiet question in his eyes. I whipped my head around, trying to catch Marc’s response, but his face changed the moment I looked.

Raven sighed. “Okay, okay. Let’s go.” He turned the keys and started up the SUV.

I gritted my teeth, afraid to say anything since he’d agreed, even if I was uncomfortable with his driving. I followed Marc around the vehicle, climbing into the middle seat next to Raven, Marc sliding in next to me and closing the door.

Raven hit the gas and turned the vehicle, spinning out in the gravel and tilting to one side on the end of the turn for a few seconds. He raced out of the driveway, hitting nearly every pothole along the way. I dug into Marc’s left arm while he hung on to the suicide bar with his right. We didn’t dare criticize Raven about his Russian driving skills.

The Isle of Palms wasn’t exactly known for an ample amount of palm trees. Most of them had been cleared for the tourist shops and restaurants. Every island around Charleston catered to a different crowd, and Isle of Palms was for the flashy, seen and be seen crowd.

In the fall, though, half of the island was in shut-down mode. Tourist shops were closed, some until March. The pastel painted large homes built on stilts were mostly quiet, more than likely not to be touched until next summer.

A couple of bars were still open now as we rolled off the main street and onto a beach-front road. Raven pulled the car into the parking lot of the main pier.

The lot was empty except for a handful of cars. There were medians planted sparsely with palm trees and grass, and at the end was a darkened guard house, abandoned possibly until summer. The pier was dark and wasn’t meant for boats, just a wood walking pier that stretched out into the ocean. There appeared to be a couple of people on it, even with the lights off overhead. Some people fished off the piers, even late at night when they weren’t supposed to.

“I forgot,” I said, gazing around at the dark cars. No Future. I had been in autopilot to go to the pier like she’d said. “She said
pier
, but she meant a boat dock. Is there one?”

“Maybe a dozen or more,” Marc said. He rolled down the window and stuck his head out, gazing at the street and the pier. The breeze from the ocean swept in, filling the SUV with a heavy scent of fresh salty air. “There’s a couple of big ones run by private associations or she could mean one outside one of these mansions for a private yacht. She didn’t mention an address?”

“No,” I said. I pulled my phone out, looking at the screen. “I just assumed. I’ll have to call her back.”

“I thought you were smart,” Marc said with a grin.

I elbowed him in the ribs at hit the redial button. Marc twisted his face in pain but didn’t move. I rolled my eyes at his reluctance to strike back. No fun.

“Kayli!” Future’s voice rose into a long shrill. “Did you make it?”

“Which boat dock did you mean?” I asked. “I went to the pier.”

“Pier, dock. Same thing,” she said. Someone spoke to her on the other end and she responded, but I couldn’t understand what they were talking about. “Okay,” she said. “Apparently there is a difference. I meant a dock.”

“Which dock?” I asked. “And who’s with you?”

“Surprise! You’ll see. If you’re at the pier, we’ll come meet you. It’ll be easier to show you.”

I gulped. Before I could ask, she hung up. Surprise? Was it going to be Blake? My skin prickled, and my instincts woke up. I had a sinking feeling that Marc and Raven would say no to anything that might involve Blake.

“Which way?” Raven asked.

“She’s coming to meet us and show us the way,” I said, putting the phone in my pocket.

Marc nodded and opened the car door. “Let’s get out so she can see us.”

Raven opened his door and slid out of the seat. I scrambled out behind him. The wind whipped around my hair, and I reached back to tuck the ponytail into the neck of my shirt to get it under control. Marc’s jacket kept me warm, but I was feeling like a slob in boy clothes. I wasn’t going to be much of a wing girl.

Maybe that would be good enough to let me off the hook. Future would realize I wasn’t glammed up and dismiss me as possible help.

Raven folded his arms over his stomach, looking up and down the street. “I don’t like it,” he said.

“It’s fine, Raven,” Marc said. “Don’t worry.”

“I don’t like not knowing where we’re going or what we’re doing.”

“We’re about to find out,” Marc said. “Future will meet us here and tell us what’s going on.” He stepped up next to Raven, putting an arm around his shoulders. “Relax. Doesn’t hurt to ask and check things out.”

Raven stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and frowned, still staring out at the street, aware and cautious. I sympathized with him. He was cautious and protective, and had been since Brandon and I had been kidnapped. I wanted to hug him and reassure him, but didn’t want to embarrass him in front of Marc.

We waited there together. I stretched and twisted my neck to pop it, enjoying the smell of the cool salty air. It made me remember that I hadn’t been out much. I was looking at stars and shadows, feeling a little scared being in a new place, but I didn’t want to believe it was residual fear from being kidnapped.

Still, I stood close to Raven, right at his elbow. No need to get carried away.

Raven leaned his arm into mine, the bulk of his bicep seeming massive next to my own. He knew how I was feeling without me having to say a word.

Up the road, a yellow sports car pulled onto the main street. There was a blue neon light underneath, causing the car to look green in the glow. It was an angular, low riding vehicle, zooming down the road toward us.

I squinted at it, a sinking feeling starting in the pit of my stomach, turning into slight nausea as the car slowed down at the curb near the street. It was a foreign brand, the logo I didn’t recognize—not that I knew anything about fancy cars.

Uh oh. I forced a toothy smile, forcing myself not to hop back into the SUV, claiming to be too sick for this.

The car stopped and the passenger door opened, coming close to scraping the sidewalk with how low the car sat.

Out stepped Future. She’d given up the yellow and blue Spandex and had stuffed in her amble faux breasts into a pink corset, shoulders bare. I wasn’t exactly sure how the bra part was hanging on. Maybe double sided tape and barely at that. She wore a frilly green skirt that fluffed as she walked and boots that went up to mid-calf. Her arms were stacked with bracelets, all the way up to her elbows. She had at least two rings on most of her fingers, many with large pink, green and blue stones. There were a dozen necklaces, gold, with additional pink and green stones. She had big dangling earrings, and a tiara in her straightened dark hair. Her dark skin sparkled, like she had dashes of glitter everywhere. Future was a walking jewelry counter.

She stepped forward, stopped, raised her hands above her head and posed. “Hello, Charleston!” Her voice was a mimic of smoky sexy tones, her feminine voice. “Ready to play--” Her eyes flashed in my direction. She stopped and her arms lowered quickly, her hands balling into fists. “What? What the fuck are you wearing?”

I grimaced. Whoops. Maybe I was going to get out of this tonight after all. “Sorry. I didn’t know,” I said. “I was out and came over when you called.”

“Out where? In a hobo’s ass? Who let you out wearing that?” Future asked.

“She’s fine,” Marc said, smirking.

“No,” Future said, and pointed a finger at him, a bright pink fingernail sparkled with glitter. “Fuck you for letting her out of the house in that. Not that you’re dressed any better.”

Marc raised his hands, looking down at his clothes. “What’s wrong with jeans?”

“Boys never know how to dress,” Future said. “You can barely see your butt in those jeans.”

“Isn’t that the point of wearing clothes?” he asked.

“Uh,” I said, “Future...can we just--”

“Oh no, honey-buns,” she said. She put her arms back up and posed again. “This isn’t Future anymore. No, this striking new girl in front of you? Say hello to Fancy.” With that, she tossed her hair and wiggled her butt to sway the frilly skirt and then froze.

Silence lingered, the only sound coming from the still running car behind her. I exchanged glances with Marc and Raven. I thought perhaps we were supposed to clap or something, but I didn’t want to assume and be rude.

“Fancy?” Marc asked.

She lowered her arms again, pouting. “What? You don’t like it?”

“I don’t even know what it is,” he said.

“It’s my new name,” she said. “Fancy.”

“What was wrong with your old name?”

She sliced her hand through the air. Her bracelets clanked with the movement. “Please. That old thing? Keeping the same name all the time is so cliché.”

“It’s cliché to have just one name?” Marc asked, the smirk building on the side of his mouth.

“Of course it is,” she said. “It’s like hanging on to the same look all the time. Sometimes you just have to reinvent yourself.”

“You were Future a month ago,” Marc said.

“Yeah,” she said. “Held on to that too long. Fancy’s so much better.”

“What was before Future?” His smirk lifted high, and I could tell he was just playing with her.

I stepped forward, wanting to stop this line of crazy questions and answers before we went as loopy as Fancy. “Okay,” I said. “Well, we’re here. You were talking about a favor? Something about a boat?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Fancy said. She waved to the yellow car. “Hop in. We’ll show you.”

“Who’s with you?” Marc asked.

“Avery,” she said.

I bent forward, looking through the open door, spotting Avery at the wheel of the car. Marc and Raven did the same, peering in at him.

Avery wore a shiny blue button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His brown hair was trimmed, brushed back away from his eyes. A touch of the tattoo across his chest was peeking out. He spotted us looking in on him and did a short wave. “Hi,” he said.

Avery? How? I tried to make a connection. Did Future...
Fancy
come to Charleston, get a cab, run into Avery and then start talking about me? It seemed like a stretch, but it was the only explanation I could come up with. It still didn’t explain the car. Had Fancy brought it up from Florida?

At the sight of Avery, Marc and Raven seemed to relax. I wondered if they, too, had suspected Blake was behind this. “Nice car, Avery,” Marc said. “Kind of an upgrade from what you had.”

Avery smiled, his thin lips parting to reveal teeth. “A little,” he said. “It’s not mine, though.”

Where’d you get it from?”

“Long story,” Avery said. “Tell you on the way?”

The secrecy was odd, but from Avery’s expression and Fancy’s grin, I suspected it was more surprise than dangerous.

Marc looked at me, seeming amused but then there was a hesitation, too. Silently, he was asking me if I was ready for this. Did I really want to know what was going on? If not, we’d head back to the apartment.

The red or blue pill, Kayli?

I hesitated, unsure. If I said I was still feeling sick, what would happen? I’d go home, be bored and restless for longer. Fancy wanted a favor. Avery was here, so it couldn’t be that bad of a thing.

My curiosity was getting the better of me, too. I shrugged. “We don’t have anything better to do.”

“We’re all not going to fit in there,” Marc said. “Raven’s butt is too big.”

Raven grunted. I grinned. Marc was enjoying this little get-together way too much. Maybe he’d been antsy to get out of the house, too.

Fancy moved forward between Marc and Raven, threading her arms through theirs. “Here’s what we can do,” she said. “Avery can drive with Kayli. I’ll go with you guys and point you in the right direction.”

“I’ll fit my butt in,” Raven said, starting to head toward the yellow car.

The car only had two seats. If I let him in, we’d be crushed together. That was too pretty of a car to try to squeeze us both into the seat, even with me sitting in his lap, when he had a perfectly good SUV to sit in. I also didn’t really want to sit in the SUV with Fancy.