Awaken (19 page)

I watched him go with frustration. I wanted to scream after him as the light and energy that made my world glow evaporated out of the room as the door swung shut behind him.

I expected the house to be dark when I got home and was surprised to see so many lights on in the downstairs windows. Baley greeted me at the door and I paused when I heard voices in the living room. Deep voices. My intuition kicked in and a cold chill crept over me. My dad called my name as I shut the door behind me.

Goose bumps rose up on my arms as I headed into the living room and I stopped abruptly in the doorway. Paul and Damon Thompson were inside, talking to my mom and dad. They all fell quiet when they saw me. All the wall screens in the house were turned off. There wasn’t a single noise, only loud silence. Even my mother’s face was sullen.

I was in trouble.

“Where have you been?” Dad asked. He sat next to my mom on the couch.

“I went out with Clare,” I said, and managed to keep my voice steady.

“I didn’t ask who you were with, I asked where you were,” he repeated.

I studied each face and tried to guess what I did wrong tonight. Leaving the house wasn’t against my probation terms. I took a deep breath to keep calm.

“Clare’s brother Noah is in a band and we went downtown to watch it,” I said plainly. “I don’t think the club has a name, it’s just on the Westside.”

Damon crossed his arms. “Noah and Clare Powell? These are your daughter’s friends?” he asked in my father’s direction with a patronizing tone. I pressed my hands against my hips.

“I think I’m old enough to choose my friends, Damon. I don’t need a babysitter.”

My dad stood up from the couch. “Watch your mouth,” he said. “I demand respect in this house.”

“You mean control?” I said.

“When you’re on your own, you can choose your friends,” he said.

I threw my hands up in the air. “Dad, I’m almost eighteen. What’s the difference? Am I going to wake up when I turn eighteen and magically make all the right decisions?”

“Not according to your track record,” he retorted.

Paul interjected, “We’re just looking out for you, Madeline.”

“Well, you don’t need to,” I snapped back at him. “I’m fine. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I’m meeting people that I actually want to spend time with, so don’t worry about me.”

My dad interrupted us. “Madeline, Damon came over tonight to discuss some options for you.”

I creased my eyebrows. “Options?”

My dad nodded. “It seems that having you on probation hasn’t been a serious enough consequence.” He paused for a moment and met my eyes. “We have no other choice.”

I stared between my dad and Damon.

“They’re sending you to a detention center, Maddie,” my mom said, her voice uneven. “In Iowa.”

“Iowa?”

“You’ll be disciplined there,” Dad added. “Something your mother and I haven’t adequately been able to do with you.”

I looked from my dad to my mom and saw her lips were pressed together firmly. She looked dazed as she listened to my father.

“Is anybody going to tell me what I did wrong?” I glared at my dad. “This is insane.”

His eyes were livid. “What’s insane is my daughter has pulled a three-sixty ever since she’s been interacting with a certain Justin Solvi.”

“Dad – ”

“And you broke your parole assisting him in the escape of a young man being held in custody in Toledo. A young man who broke the law and should suffer the consequences. He belonged in a detention center. People have to pay for their mistakes.”

I stared at my father in shock. “I didn’t do anything wrong, swear.”

He shook his head. “
DNA
testing is a great way to solve these kinds of mysteries, Maddie, although I am grateful your leg healed up okay,” he said and nodded at my scar.

I gulped and my throat felt tight.

“We heard from the police today. When your mom could testify that Justin came over and picked you up that night in the same car the police saw you three drive off in, after you gashed your leg on an exposed drainage pipe, well, they didn’t need much proof beyond that.”

I looked over at my mom. She refused to meet my eyes, her face unreadable.

My voice trembled when I spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mom, I didn’t mean to lie.” Tears pooled in my eyes. “I swear I didn’t assist in anything.”

Damon spoke up. “As far as we’re concerned, associating with someone like Justin Solvi and his friends is breaking your probation. You should have known better than to get mixed up with those kinds of people. They’re all DS protesters. Do you know who Justin’s parents are?”

I looked over and pleaded with my mom to step in. To believe me. My father spoke up.

“There’s nothing more to discuss. Damon and Paul will take you to the airport.”

I stared between my parents. “Can’t I explain my side of this?”

My dad took a step closer to me. “Didn’t I tell you not to see that young man?”

I nodded.

“Didn’t I warn you he wouldn’t be a good influence?” he asked, and I nodded again.

“Were you not the third person in that car in Toledo?”

I looked down at the ground.

My dad shook his head. “I can’t get you out of it this time, Maddie. I can’t afford to draw any more attention to this family. You knew all along that if there was the slightest evidence showing you were fighting DS, you’d go to a detention center.”

I stared back at him.

“You have to learn to deal with the repercussions of your actions. Actions are dangerous.”

“If you cooperate, you’ll be released in six months,” Damon a dded.

“Six months! Mom?” I cried. She followed behind me.

“There’s nothing we can do, Maddie. If the news finds out you were involved in the Toledo case and we didn’t give you the fair punishment, your father could lose his job. This time, there’s nothing we can do. You brought this one on yourself.”

Hot tears flooded my eyes. She bent down and picked up a pair of my tennis shoes and gripped me in a hug. So quietly, with her mouth pressed against my ear, she said, “In case you need to run.”

I blinked back at her with confusion and took the shoes out of her hands. I put them on and Damon gripped my arm so tightly I could feel my skin bruising under his fingers.

My mom handed me my purse, after she took out my phone and flipscreen.

I lifted the strap over my head and stared at my dad the way someone might stare at a puzzle they’ve worked years to put together and can’t solve. I didn’t even see my father then. I saw a man as distant to me as a stranger. All the light was gone from his dark eyes as he stared back at me.

Damon’s phone rang and he answered it and nodded into the receiver. “The driver just pulled up. Let’s go.”

My dad glanced out the front window and back at Damon. “You didn’t bring your squad car?”

Damon and Paul simultaneously shook their heads. “We don’t want to be obvious,” Damon insisted. My dad’s eyes flickered to me with concern.

“What do you mean obvious?” he asked.

Damon hesitated. “We’ve been having problems with interceptions lately and squad cars are a dead giveaway. We’ve had better luck using unmarked public service vehicles.”

There was a black car in the driveway with the words
Corvallis Airport Transfer
written across the side. My dad still looked skeptical and Damon put his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Kevin. I’m sure Paul and I can handle escorting your daughter to the airport. Besides, I don’t think she’s had too much training in car escapes.” Paul chuckled at this and I glared at him.

Damon pulled me outside and opened the door to the back seat. I climbed in next to Paul. I looked out the window and saw my mom standing on the front porch. She was trying to keep it together, trying to be strong for me. But I saw the devastation in her eyes and the way her hand clung to my dad’s arm. I looked at him and saw a brief expression change on his face. For a moment he looked as pained as my mom. Maybe I pretended to see it because just as quickly as it came it fled and was replaced by a scowl. I preferred the grimace to the look I saw on my dad’s face for that fleeting instant. It was as if someone dear to him died and I couldn’t help but wonder if that’s the way he saw me right now.

The driver, who was young, about my age, started the engine. As we pulled away I fought to keep my mind focused. I thought about what Justin had said. Think on my feet. Know my strengths. I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the situation to try and come up with a plan. There wasn’t time to cry.

The car headed down the street and picked up speed. I studied the door. There was no handle that I could see, as if I was already in some sort of a locked cell. I watched the road ahead and estimated I had about twenty minutes before we got to the airport.

Think, Madeline.

I looked at Paul; he was staring straight ahead and his chin was held high. His back was held straight against the seat and he clamped his hands tightly to his sides like he was some kind of soldier. He was acting so tough, but I knew him better than that. I remember when we were little and our families would get together for holidays. Paul was always so whiny. He complained if he got the tiniest scrape, he’d cry if he didn’t get his way. That’s when an idea came to mind.

The driver took a sharp turn and the tires squealed against the road.

My hands went to my stomach.

“I get carsick really easily,” I whispered to Paul. He glared back at me as the car pulled another fast turn. I held one hand against the window and the other one I kept on my stomach. I pretended to concentrate on my breathing. Paul watched me skeptically.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

I held my hands against my stomach and grimaced. “Can he slow down a little? I feel like I’m going to throw up,” I said. Paul’s eyes widened, like he was remembering the same memory I did. He hesitated and looked at the driver and back at me. The car swerved between lanes, passing a ZipShuttle and a light-rail train. I groaned from the movements.

“Can you at least roll the window down?” I pleaded as the driver swerved again. “Maybe some air will help.”

“Slow it down a little,” Paul said to the driver as he scooted away from me. The driver glanced over his shoulder at Paul for a second and swerved out of the lane. He almost hit a ZipShuttle and quickly jerked the car to avoid it.

“Oh, god,” I muttered, and started to cough. I leaned my head between my legs.

“Dad!” Paul yelled.

Damon swore with disgust and rolled down my window halfway.

I slowly lifted my head and took a deep breath of fresh air. I glanced at the window but it wasn’t wide enough for me to squeeze through if they ever did happen to slow down. I could try and shatter the glass, but if it was bulletproof it would probably take more than my elbow to break it. I lowered my head between my legs again and stuck my finger down my throat until I could taste acid creep up the back of my mouth. If I did throw up, it might actually get them to pull over.

Paul moved as far away from me as he could. “Hey, pull over. She really is sick.”

“We’re not pulling over,” Damon shot back. “She’ll puke in your lap before she escapes.”

I whimpered with the realization that I was royally screwed. Just as I accepted my fate, the driver spoke up.

“You might be okay with her puking, but you’re not the one that’ll have to clean it up,” he said, and pulled the car off the highway onto an exit ramp. Damon swore at the driver as he pulled in to a rest stop.

“Dad, she’s just using the bathroom,” Paul said. I sat up too fast and almost did feel queasy as the car slammed to a stop. Damon looked back at me, his face red with stress.

“You get two minutes,” he said. He told the driver to unlock the car and ordered Paul to go with me. I stumbled out of the car and headed for the front door while Paul argued with his dad. When I got inside, I ran toward the bathroom and kept going when I noticed an exit sign at the end of the hall. I heard someone shout behind me as I bolted through a metal doorway. The dark, fresh air greeted me like open arms. All I needed was a head start. I could find somewhere to hide. I could wait until morning and try to find Justin. I could do it.

I mentally thanked my mom for making me put on tennis shoes. There’s no way I’d manage a sprint escape in heels.

I heard the metal door swing open and Paul yelled after me. He wasn’t far behind. I ran harder down the alley, the breeze scattering my hair and my eyes watering from the wind in my eyes. I pumped my arms from side to side to gain momentum. Paul yelled out for me to stop.

“There’s no point, Maddie,” he shouted. “You’re only making this worse.”

My legs sprang harder off the cement and I cut through a yard filled with trees to help shade me from the street. I leaned against the side of a house to catch my breath and try to think of a plan. As soon as I leaned against it, a security siren wailed. I jumped away from the house and outside lights snapped on, flooding the entire yard with bright spotlights.

I sprinted away from the house and saw, in the distance, headlights coming down the street. I ran into another yard and this one also had motion-detecting alarms. Ground lights blinked off and on to warn the family inside and another siren pierced the air. I continued to run, setting off security alarms with each yard I passed. Not quite the inconspicuous plan I had in mind. I saw a park across the street at the end of the block. As I set off another yard security system, Paul grabbed my arms and jerked me roughly against him. I pulled away and fell down onto the turf, taking Paul with me. We struggled on the ground as he tried to hold my wrists down. I kicked out at him.

He finally caught ahold of my flailing wrists and pinned them together against my chest.

“There’s no point in fighting me,” he said, his face close to mine. He was straddling me and just as I opened my mouth to shout at him, a deep voice boomed over us.

“What the hell is going on here?” a man yelled. The next thing I knew, Paul was yanked off me and dragged to his feet. I sat up and stared at a middle-aged man, tall and stocky, who held Paul’s arms behind his back. His son stood next to him in the yard and had a similar build. They both looked down at me and noticed my messy hair and shirt that was balled halfway up my waist. I tugged it down.