Pushed (28 page)

Warm lips pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth, and whiskers tickled my skin. Half-asleep, I smiled.

At some point in the night, we’d rolled onto our sides facing each other. My hand pressed against his heart, and the rapid beat of it made me dizzy with relief. I didn’t have to scan him to see that he would be okay. I opened my eyes to Asher’s solemn gaze.

We stared at each other.

The sun had risen, and the soft light painted Asher’s skin. For weeks I had thought about him and dreamed about him. I’d wished for him to be alive so hard that the wishing had become a constant ache, a gaping wound that I dragged around with me. The impossibility of ever seeing him again had changed me.

Now, with him lying beside me, I could feel myself changing again.

Asher brushed the hair from my cheek and laid his palm over my neck.

“They told me you were dead,” he said, his voice rough like sandpaper. I realized he was feeling for my heartbeat, too, to convince himself that I wasn’t a ghost or a dream.

“They shot you in the head,” I said. “I saw you die.”

We fell silent again, each of us absorbing what that had done to the other. We’d both been tortured, but nothing had come close to the agony of losing each other. Asher’s eyes traced my face, and it felt like a touch, the way they lingered over each feature. Soon, his fingers followed, skimming over my skin in a barely there sensation. The quiet relief of having him beside me slid into something heated as my heart sped up.

I worried for a moment that he couldn’t hear my thoughts. With everything that had happened, had our bonding remained? It seemed too much to hope for.

Asher smiled. “You have no idea how good it is to hear you again.”

He rolled onto his back, and I propped myself up to see his face. A cut remained across his cheekbone. I laid a finger against it and closed my eyes. The
humming
began, and Asher stilled as I healed the last of his injuries. I wished the memories would fade as easily, but I knew that wouldn’t happen.

I opened my eyes again. Asher watched me with a worried expression as his injuries formed on my skin.

“You healed me?” he said.

He hated the idea. His eyes swept over me looking for evidence of his other injuries.

I nodded. “Gabe helped.”

Asher smiled ruefully. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him. What he did last night . . . And you . . .” He shook me a little. “Walking into a house with five Protectors. What were you thinking?”

I settled against his chest and let my finger trail up to the scar on his eyebrow. “Well, Gabe and I had a plan.”

Asher wrapped both arms around me. Heat whipped through me. I’d missed that. Missed his touch and how alive it made me feel.

“You had a plan?” Asher asked doubtfully. “Did it involve getting dead? Because that seemed to be where you were heading.”

I couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to his bare chest. “I didn’t say it was a good plan. But hey, it worked. You can’t argue with results.”

“No, I guess I can’t.”

His hand swept from my shoulder blade to my waist, and my breath skipped.

Fierce love for him had me squeezing my eyes closed on a new crop of tears. In that instant, I decided I would savor every moment with him. Every second I’d thought him dead had been lonely and terrifying. Getting him back was a gift. I would not let fear hold me back any longer.

“Hey,” Asher whispered. I lifted my head. “I love you. I don’t want to be afraid anymore, either.” My hair fell forward and brushed his face. He turned his nose into it and breathed. “I dreamed of you all the time, but every time I tried to remember your scent, my imagination fell short. I longed for this.”

His forest green eyes burned, and I said, “Asher?”

The hand on my back moved lower. “Hm?”

“Kiss me already.”

He did, and it felt like I’d come home at last.

 

By the time Gabe returned to our room, Asher and I had taken turns in the bathroom and dressed. We sat on the small sofa, talking about nothing, avoiding heavy topics. Neither of us felt ready to face what was ahead, or to discuss what had happened in the weeks we were apart. I’d put my guard up to have a little privacy, and Asher hadn’t mentioned it. Gabe’s gaze paused on both of our faces and then fell to our joined hands. He turned away quickly, but not before I saw pain flicker across his features. I was suddenly glad that Asher couldn’t read my mind at the moment.

Gabe pulled a chair over and sat, propping his legs on the coffee table and his hands on his stomach. He’d wiped all emotion from his face.

“So,” Gabe said. “What do we do now?”

They both looked at me.

“What? Why do I have to decide?”

“It’s your grandfather. We can stay and fight him.”

Asher picked up where Gabe had left off. “Or we can go home and get on with our lives.”

Home. I hadn’t thought we could ever return to Blackwell Falls or see my family again. The Protectors knew where the Blackwells lived, and they knew I’d helped Asher escape. But they’d all died at Yvette’s house. I’d watched the house burn. Everything had changed.

“Your grandfather was behind it all,” Gabe said. “There’s no reason now why you can’t go home.”

“What if the Protectors told him?” I asked.

“No,” Asher said. “I heard them talking about Franc sometimes. Trust me. They didn’t tell him anything.”

Shadows crossed his face, as if he couldn’t escape the memory of what had been happening to him while he’d overheard those conversations. I squeezed his hand, and he seemed to shake himself back to the present.

I pictured Lucy, Laura, and my father. Would they want me back after everything? What could I even say to earn their forgiveness for leaving the way I had? Maybe I should stay away to make things easier for them. Yet, I couldn’t deny a yearning to be with them again. It was selfish, but I wanted to put me first. I needed my family, and I wouldn’t give them up if I could help it.

And Asher . . . I looked up at him, clutching his hand. He needed this, too.

“I want to go home.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-EIGHT

I
didn’t call ahead. What would I have said?
Gee, Dad, so sorry I broke your heart and cut you off. Hey, Lucy, you’re the best sister I could have asked for, and I hope you forgive me for not even bothering to say good-bye when I ditched you.
No, a call wouldn’t have fixed anything. Some apologies had to be made in person.

We grabbed the first flight to Maine, which meant we’d cleared out of the motel and hit the airport within a few hours. I thought the worry would eat me alive during the six-hour flight, but I had plenty to distract me. Due to the last-minute booking, we couldn’t get three seats together. Asher, Gabe, and I found ourselves spread out across the plane, to my relief.

I longed to sit with Asher, but I didn’t know how long I could keep the truth from him. I had bonded with each brother. They could both read my mind. Except Asher didn’t know that, and I didn’t know how to tell him. How did you blurt out something like that? I had to say something soon, though. The way Gabe watched us made it too obvious that it hurt him to see Asher and me together. Soon Asher would notice it, too. I’d kept my guard up on the way to the airport, not ready to face what I’d soon have to confess.

If what Gabe said was true, I had caused this mess, but I had no idea how to undo it. I didn’t understand how I could bond with two men, so how could I make it stop?

In Portland, Maine, Gabe had arranged for a car to be waiting. We skipped the taxi lines and were on the road within a half hour of landing. Gabe drove, and I took the backseat, forcing Asher to sit in the front with his brother.

As we got closer to Blackwell Falls, giant beasts beat their wings against my insides. My family hated me. I’d made sure of that with that last call to my father. I imagined scenario after scenario of how they would react when they saw me. In every one, they rejected me. I couldn’t tell the truth about my grandfather or what had happened to me. In place of the truth, every useless lie would make things worse.

Then we arrived in town. Blackwell Falls had become part of me when I lived here. Seeing it again eased another bit of the ache that leaving my home had created. I’d thought never to see the forests and sea cliffs again. I opened a window and inhaled. The salty air had never tasted so good on my tongue.

It smelled like home. I’d been loved in Blackwell Falls. I’d met Asher here. I’d had a family and a place where I belonged, but I’d thrown those away. To keep them safe, yes, but how could that matter when they’d never know it?

The plan was to leave me at my house, while Asher and Gabe went home to Lottie. They would drop off my luggage tomorrow. I didn’t think my family would appreciate the Blackwells being there when we first saw each other. And Asher looked exhausted again after the flight. Those shadows wouldn’t let him loose long enough for him to rest.

At last we pulled up to my father’s house, and I stared at the cottage. I’d lived here. I wanted to run up to the front door, let myself in, and shout to everyone that I was home.
Would they want me?

“Remy?” Asher said.

I met his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“They’ll be angry and hurt, but don’t ever doubt they want you.”

Gabe was less gentle. “Get out of the damn car. The fear of the thing is worse than the thing.”

I snorted. Then I took a deep breath and got out of the damn car.

 

I knocked on the front door, but nobody answered. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed that there were no cars in the driveway. It was the middle of the day, which meant my dad was most likely at work. Laura and Lucy could be anywhere. I stood on the porch for a minute feeling stupid and regretting that I’d waved Asher and Gabe on their way. Now what?

I shrugged and used my house key.

“Hello?”

My voice echoed without response. I was alone. I wandered from room to room, an interloper in this place that I belonged to and yet didn’t. I’d changed since my father had brought me here. I wasn’t even the girl that had fought Dean to save Lucy. Maybe I no longer fit here.

I climbed the stairs and immediately faced my bedroom. I dreaded opening the door. Had they packed up my things and turned it into an office? A guest room? My steps faltered, and I pushed the door open.

Nothing had been moved. Papers, makeup, clothes . . . They were scattered about exactly where I’d tossed them the day they drove me to the airport.

My family had left my room untouched, ready and waiting for me to return.

I walked to the bed. It still smelled of the lavender that Laura washed into the sheets, and I couldn’t resist kicking off my shoes and sliding between them. My head hit the pillow, and my eyes grew heavy. The sun was setting outside my window, and orange light bathed everything in a familiar glow that hypnotized me.

I was home.

 

I woke in complete darkness, curled up on my side. Instantly, I was back in the room where I’d watched Asher die, and then waited to die myself. Something touched me, and I froze in terror when I heard light breathing. Someone lay in the bed with me. A hand touched my hair.

“Shh, Remy.”

My fight-or-flight response had kicked in, and I barely missed punching Lucy in the face. I flopped onto my back, trying to catch my breath as adrenaline flooded through me.

Lucy touched my hair again, this time more tentatively. “I didn’t mean to scare you. You were having a nightmare.”

“What time is it?”

My eyes adjusted to the dark, but I couldn’t make out her features. She dropped something on the bed between us and I heard a
click
. The screen of her phone lit up, and I could see her at last.

“Three twenty-four,” she said.

I rolled to face her, and she touched a button that turned her phone into a night-light. She pulled the covers over our heads, creating a cocoon where only the two of us existed.

“Hey, sis,” she said. “I missed you.”

And that was all it took to open the floodgates. I cried in silence, and we stared at each other.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” I confessed. “I’m so sorry, Luce. You must hate me.”

“Can I ask you one thing?”

I nodded and swiped my runny nose with my sleeve like a kid.

“Did you leave to keep us safe?”

I nodded again. I opened my mouth to tell her about it, but thinking about everything that had happened stole my ability to speak.

“Was it awful?” she asked, and she didn’t sound as calm.

“The worst.”

My voice cracked. Lucy used her own sleeve to wipe my cheeks. It didn’t escape me that our roles had reversed, and she’d become the one doing the comforting. I wasn’t the only one who had changed in these last months.

“Then we’ll talk about it when you’re ready. For now . . . how about I tell you what you missed this summer?”

I nodded eagerly, and she began whispering. She didn’t talk about what my leaving had done to her or our parents. If she blamed me, she hid it well. Instead, my sister told me about our friends and our town and Laura’s new hobby (learning to play the flute) and Dad’s old hobby (working on cars in the garage in an effort to escape beginner’s flute). The phone battery died, the sun rose, and eventually we heard our parents waking and heading downstairs.

“Do they know I’m here?” I asked.

Lucy shook her head. “Nah. Gabe called, or I wouldn’t have known you were home. Are you and Gabe friends now? He sounded worried.”

“It’s complicated.”

Her eyes gleamed. “I’m going to let that go because we need to tell our parents you’re here, but don’t think I’m going to forget you said that. I know a good story when I hear it.”

I hissed a laugh because that sounded like the sister I knew, intent on prying gossip out of me. “Understood.”

We took turns using the bathroom, and then I followed her down the stairs to the kitchen, trying to control my nerves. Lucy hadn’t given me any clues about what to expect. I didn’t see my father, but Laura stood in front of the coffeemaker in her robe and slippers, seemingly willing it to brew faster like she had many weekends before. My eyes welled up again. She’d taken me in as if I were her own daughter despite everything. Did she feel like I’d tossed that back in her face?

“Mom,” I said.

“Good morning. Coffee’s ready.” She didn’t look up as she poured herself a cup of coffee. “What are you doing up so early?” she asked as she rounded with her mug in hand. She froze when she spotted me, and the hot liquid sloshed dangerously when she shrieked.

Lucy plucked the cup from her before she spilled it, and I found myself crushed against Laura. She hugged me tight enough to suffocate me, but I didn’t care. Her welcome went far beyond anything I’d dreamed of. She pulled away to look at me, crying and smiling all at once. I smiled back, feeling wanted.

Then the smile faded, and she scowled. “Remy O’Malley, where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea what you put us through?” She lifted my hand and stared at it. “So your fingers aren’t broken. There goes that excuse for not bothering to call a single time to tell us you were alive.”

I’d never seen my stepmom so enraged. She launched into a tirade that blistered the air. She threatened to ground me and take away every privilege and belonging I owned, including my car. The fact that I’d gone over three months without these things didn’t faze her. She didn’t stop to let me speak, and I didn’t care. Because through all her recriminations and anger, she assumed I was home to stay.

And that felt better than heaven.

She had just begun to wind down when my father appeared in the doorway.

The world stopped spinning as he stared at me with hollow eyes. He didn’t come forward to hug me like Laura had, or tell me he’d missed me like Lucy had. I didn’t know what to do. His arms crossed over his chest; he looked unforgiving and unapproachable.

“Donuts,” Laura blurted out. We all turned to stare at her, and she said, “I want donuts for breakfast. Ben, why don’t you take Remy with you to get them?”

The Queen of Subtlety, that was my stepmom.

Nobody moved, and she glared at us and bellowed, “Get me some freaking donuts. Move!”

And we did.

 

We could have walked to the donut shop, but my father chose to drive. I wondered if that was so he could get the trip over with more quickly. We arrived at the bakery in minutes, ordered donuts and two coffees, and were on our way home without having said a word to each other. Laura’s plan to throw us together had crashed and burned.

But at the house, he pulled into the driveway and honked the horn. The front door opened and Lucy appeared. Ben waved to her and handed her the box of donuts when she ran over.

“We’re going for a drive,” he told her. “Let your mom know, okay?”

She nodded and sent me a worried glance.

Ben pulled back onto the road and headed for the shore. He stopped in the parking lot at the beach I’d found myself on that first morning I’d decided to stay in Blackwell Falls. It had also been the morning I’d met Asher. So much had happened since then.

My father shut off the engine, grabbed the coffees, and left the car. I followed more slowly, planting my feet into his vacated footprints in the sand as we plodded toward the water’s edge. He plunked down on the ground and handed me a coffee when I sat beside him. I couldn’t read him. Was he angry? Disappointed? Hateful? All of the above?

I waited.

Ben sipped his coffee in silence, watching a sailboat cut through the water.

I fiddled with my cup.

“I love you,” he said at last. “You are my daughter. I don’t understand why you left the way did because I’d thought we’d gone beyond that. But you are my daughter, and you are not deliberately cruel. So I believe that you’re keeping secrets about your mom and Dean and your grandfather, and I also believe that you’re protecting me by not telling me those secrets. You don’t trust me, and that hurts. And I’m angry at you. That good-bye you telephoned in was bullshit. I’ve been worried that Dean found you, or that something else happened to you, and you left me with no way to find you. And we’ve all missed you because you left a hole in our family when you didn’t come home. And I know better than to expect explanations from you. But I love you, and now I’m asking you to promise me that you won’t ever do that to us again.”

He stopped talking, and I realized it wasn’t so he could take a breath. He faced me with grim expectation for a moment. Waiting for me to answer. Duh.

“I promise,” I said.

His mouth pursed thoughtfully and he gave one stiff nod. Then he said, “Drink your coffee, Remy.”

I did, even though it tasted awful.

“I love you, too, Dad.”

He didn’t answer, but a moment later he put an arm around my shoulders and we watched the sailboat until it disappeared over the horizon.