Vengeance Bound (27 page)

It doesn’t make any sense. They aren’t the type to care about high school antics. Unless They knew Amber was getting too close to my secrets. The thought leaves me cold.

I turn on the car and crank the heater up to high. I’ve been sitting here since lunchtime, turning it on intermittently to keep warm. With Carson still out, it was easy to get out of the building. I should have gone home, packed up my things, and left. I could have called Niko after I was on the road, told him I’d be back in a couple of weeks. But Niko said he would meet me after school, and the possibility of seeing him again is more than I can resist.

The final bell rings, and I watch people stream from the building. Tom and Jocelyn walk along deep in conversation, and Amber exits the building wrapped around Adam like a strangling vine. I hope he doesn’t regret it.

People continue to filter out of the building, and eventually the flood slows to a trickle. Just when I’ve given up hope of seeing Niko, he walks out, head bowed against the blustery wind that has come up. I watch his long strides to his Jeep, wondering if I should go talk to him after all. He said he’d see me after school, but I don’t want to seem all stalker-ish, waiting for him in the parking lot. I have to let him know what I’m planning, and that I’m leaving. While waiting, I rehearsed my speech, and I think I can be honest without sounding needy. I’m hoping he’ll come with me.

I’m even going to tell him the true nature of Their possession. Maybe. I’m still building up to that mentally.

I laugh softly at myself. I thought I was strong, but it turns out I’m just as weak as the people I hand down justice to. While they crave the violence of hurting others, I crave acceptance. Even if it’s based on a lie.

Niko reaches his Jeep, and I’ve just decided I won’t talk to him, when a white blur bounds across the parking lot and slams into him. My heart leaps into my chest, and I’m just about to get out of the car and run to his rescue when the person’s hood falls back. Mindi stands in front of Niko, and although I can’t see her face, I can tell by the irritation on Niko’s that he doesn’t want to hear whatever she’s saying. My heart pounds in my chest as I imagine her begging him to give her a chance. Niko shakes his head once, twice. The third time he says something to her that causes her shoulders to sag. I watch, mouth dry, and Niko gets into his car and leaves. The whine of the Jeep engine is an angry conclusion to the scene I just saw.

I start to follow him, but stop. Maybe I should give him some space after his confrontation with Mindi. Remorse claws at my chest anew. Why does my happiness have to be tied to Mindi’s misery? Why can’t we both be happy? What else can I give Mindi to make her whole, something besides Niko? A pony?

I rest my head on the steering wheel, taking deep breaths of the superheated air of the car. I focus on Niko and our future, instead of feeling bad about Mindi’s hurt feelings. My inheritance is more than enough to live on, and in a couple of weeks I’ll be eighteen. Then it’ll all be at my disposal. I think of Niko, and the way his face lit up when he talked about the possibility of traveling around the world. Maybe that’s something we could do together?

Would that be enough to convince him to come with me?

I’m startled out of my reverie by a sharp tap. Mindi’s angry tear-streaked face is pressed to the glass. I roll down the window, even though it’s the dumbest thing I could do. Still, I owe Mindi an explanation.

“You had to have him, didn’t you?” she demands, face twisted with a combination of anger and pain.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” I whisper, her pain affecting me as sharply as if it were my own. Maybe I could have fought my feelings a little more, worked harder to keep my distance. But I didn’t, and there’s no taking it back now. “I tried to avoid him.”

The hurt in her expression melts away, and rage scrunches her face instead. “Right, sure you did. You were just using me to get close to him, weren’t you? It was all a lie, even that day in the bathroom. You were never my friend.”

I shake my head, but my protests die on my lips. I’m not handling this right, but I don’t know what to do. I’ve never been in a situation like this before. I clear my throat and try again. “Mindi, let’s talk about this. Why don’t you get in and I’ll give you a ride home? I think it’s supposed to snow tonight.”

Mindi pushes away from my door and gives me the evil eye. “Are you serious? Do you really think I would go anywhere with you?”

I shrug, but it ends on a shiver. “No, but it’s freezing out, and the least I can do is give you a ride home.” Emotion clogs my throat, and I take a deep breath to talk around it. The disappointment on her face is heartrending, and all my earlier thoughts of Niko go out the window. “I really am sorry about the way things turned out. If it makes you feel any better, I turned in my paperwork to leave school today.”

Mindi crosses her arms and shakes her head. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t about how you feel, or what you do now. It’s about what you did. I thought you were my friend. I stuck up for you. I even got rid of Amber for you.”

The world gets eerily quiet, and I look at Mindi, really look at her for the first time. There is a shine to her eyes that is too familiar, the same glimmer I’ve seen once or twice in Tisiphone’s eyes. “You put the pot in Amber’s locker.”

“I was trying to give you a break from her. I saw how she messed with your car, the rumors she was spreading about you. You eventually would have gotten tired of it, and you would have left me. So I picked up the baggie the day we went sledding and held on to it until the day the dogs were supposed to show up. Tina’s mom coordinates the visits, and she always gives us a heads-up so none of us gets in trouble. But I shouldn’t have even bothered. You’re evil. You pretended to be my friend, and the moment you saw an opening, you took my boyfriend.”

“He wasn’t your boyfriend. Mindi, you need help.”
Hey, pot, this is kettle. How’s it going?

Mindi’s face goes from angry to pissed, her nostrils flaring and lips pressing into a fine line. “Whatever. You’re a fucking joke, and I hope you know there’s a special place in hell for people like you.” Her words strike me like rocks. She’s right.

Thinking the conversation is over, I roll up my window. Suddenly Mindi makes a sound like a wounded animal and lunges for me, sticking her arm through the gap. I lean toward the passenger door in surprise, and she yanks her hand back so the automatic window doesn’t crush it. She tries to open my door, but it’s locked, so she kicks it a couple of times with a booted foot, then pulls at the door handle again. Bits of foam fleck her lips and land on the window. My brain freezes as it tries to process what I’m seeing.

She wants to kill me.

I stare openmouthed until she tires herself out, planting one last fierce kick before she spins around on her heel and walks away. My hands, gripping the steering wheel, shake with shock. How did I miss how unstable she was? Mindi really does need serious professional help. I should know.

The worst part is, crazy as she might be, she’s right. I didn’t have any business going after Niko, even if there wasn’t anything between them. My first loyalty should’ve been to Mindi. She was my friend.

But if wanting Niko is so wrong, why do I still ache for him?

HONESTY IS OVERRATED

I drive home in a funk, wondering why They’re being so quiet when They could revel in my misery. This prolonged silence isn’t like Them, and that only worries me more.

Maybe it’s because I don’t need Them anymore, or maybe because They realized I’m strong enough that They’ll never take control. Either way, I’m hopeful that Their silence is a good sign, that I’m truly free. Maybe loving Niko has given me that strength. All I want to do is spend the rest of my life with him.

I smile as I round the corner toward my house. I’ve already dismissed the confrontation with Mindi, my thoughts tangling around Niko once again. I’m certain that we can be together. Perhaps we’ll go to California, either San Diego or LA. I’ve never been out West, and it sounds nice. I want to see if the Pacific matches Niko’s eyes.

I’m making plans in my head when I pull up to my apartment building. I park the car, and Niko walks down the steps. His head is down, his hands tucked into his pockets. His damp hair curls over his ears haphazardly. He looks like heaven itself.

“Hey!” I call breathlessly as I climb out of the car. He must have gone home and taken a shower and then come directly to see me. Now I’m glad I didn’t talk to him at school like some lovesick romance heroine. The afternoon is silent, and Niko’s head snaps up at the sound. He waves weakly, tension riding the breadth of his shoulders. I frown, wondering what’s wrong.

“We need to talk,” Niko says by way of introduction. I nod, dread plunking down into my stomach like heavy coins. I take a deep breath and inhale his ocean-rain scent. I want him to take me in his arms and kiss me until my head spins, but that’s not going to happen. His tone and body language are all wrong for this visit to be good.

“Okay. Do you want to come upstairs?”

Fear runs across Niko’s face, and he shakes his head. “How about the Greek diner?”

“Okay. Do I have time to check on something?”

Niko looks off into the distance and then gives a halfhearted shrug. “Sure. Why don’t you meet me there when you’re ready?”

Niko’s acting very strangely, but I want to know why, so I just nod and smile brightly. “Sure. Gimme, like, thirty minutes?”

He nods morosely and sets off. I watch him walk to the end of the block before I run upstairs to my apartment.

I throw everything I own into my trunk in record time, my stomach and mind both churning. I can’t imagine what would make Niko so sad. Did he talk to Amber? Does he think I put that bag of pot in her locker? I can just tell him that Mindi is more unstable than anyone knows. That actually is the truth, oddly enough.

I stop packing and stand completely still. What if it’s something more? What if he knows the parts of my past that I left out, the guilty that I helped Them kill in the name of justice? I told myself I was going to be honest with Niko before I go. So I need to tell him the truth. If he asks me about it, I’ll give him the entire story. No more half-truths.

But how would he have found out about that? It’s not like I’ve left a lot of witnesses.

I swallow my worry and shove the last of my clothes into the trunk. Anything that’s dirty I’ll just have to leave behind. I don’t have time for laundry.

I lug my trunk out of the apartment, sidestepping Odie as he meows at me. “I’ll come back for you after I talk to Niko,” I tell him, but I go back and fill up his food dish anyway. Odie ignores me in favor of the food, and I drag the trunk down the stairs and to the back of my car before walking the couple of blocks to the Greek diner.

Niko sits in a booth, cradling a cup of coffee, when I walk in. The Greek diner is actually called the Arch Street Diner, but at one time it was owned by a Greek family, and the name stuck. It’s a stereotypical restaurant with a black-and-white checkered floor and cracked red vinyl booths. The floor looks like it hasn’t been replaced in years, and Elvis posters in cheap plastic frames cover the walls, most of them sun-bleached. The place is pretty empty. The only other people in the diner are a frazzled waitress, a sweaty short-order cook watching a basketball game, and a homeless man nursing a cup of coffee at the counter.

I slide in opposite Niko with a wide smile, hoping he doesn’t see the worry in my eyes. Overhead, Elvis croons about some girl breaking his heart, and I grit my teeth. The music isn’t helping, and if anything, the sound makes me edgy.

“So, what’s up?” I ask, my voice entirely too chipper. The waitress appears before Niko can say anything, and I order coffee. She scurries off and comes back with a full mug that sloshes all over the table when she sets it down. I pull some napkins from the dispenser and blot up the extra liquid. Now that I’m sitting here, I can’t look Niko in the eyes. I’m afraid of what emotion I might find there. Disgust? Fear? Or maybe disappointment?

I should have just left without saying good-bye. In a couple of weeks I’ll probably forget all about him.

I wish I could believe that.

Niko takes the soggy napkins out of my hands and drops them near the salt shaker. He gently wraps his fingers in mine, and I can’t resist looking him in the eye any longer. His ocean gaze is filled with pain, and my stomach drops.

“Someone left this for me in my mailbox.” He reaches beneath the table and produces a manila folder, the kind you see in doctor’s offices. His name is written across the front in bold letters. He slides it across the table at me, and I hesitate before opening it. There’s nothing saying where it’s from or who left it, and the mystery makes me nauseous.

“What is it?”

“I think you’d better look at it yourself.” He says it so low that I have to guess at his words.

I flip open the cover without looking at Niko. A black-and-white photo of a kitchen is the first thing that I see. Roland Thomas’s kitchen. The cabinets, floor, and walls are covered with a substance that appears black in the photo. The blood would be more impressive in color.

I move past the photo and quickly skim the rest of the file. News clippings from my kidnapping. The terrible sketch of me that appeared in the newspaper after the incident in Charlotte. Kevin Eames’s medical report. Copies of my police record from Savannah, even though I was never brought to trial. And worst of all, my write-up from Brighter Day, where my parents went into explicit detail about why they were having me admitted, and later where Dr. Goodhart wrote up his diagnosis—multiple personality disorder, narcissism, amoral behavior stemming from a childhood assault.

Someone has compiled all of my secrets into one handy file. There’s only one person who had access to this much information. The world slips to the side and tilts a little. I hadn’t expected this. I flip over the folder and compare the handwriting to the photocopied notes from my medical file. It’s just as I thought. I close my eyes and try to push down my panic. “Dr. Goodhart left this for you.”