Laiken

“Listen,” Dominic says into the phone. “It's over with. Joseph doesn't want to be found.” He shoots a glance at me. “Not by anyone.”

I keep my face emotionless. I don't want to be affected by his blunt words. Dad wants nothing to do with me. I need to get ready to move on. I only wish I knew what I was moving on to. All this time spent fretting over my father coming to rescue me. Bringing me back home. Fixing everything.

The night he fled without me wasn't an accident. He never planned to take me with him. Not me, not Kara.

Kara.

I chance a quick look at Dominic as he talks on the phone. We've been driving for a few hours, stopping once for gas. He said we'd be back to the estate by late tonight at this pace. I know now that Kara's hate for him is misplaced. I hope he'll come clean and tell her, and everyone else, what really happened to Bernard. I'm doubtful, though.

He only broke his promise because I admitted I loved him. He loves me, too, I remind myself, my heart strumming like the strings on a guitar. It warms me to my core. It makes colors brighter and the air itself taste better.

And it makes every worry I have sharper.

“Well,” he sighs, ending the call. “Dad didn't sound happy with the news.”

“What did he say?” I ask.

He parts his fingers through his hair then grips the wheel. “He kept asking me if I was sure. My gut says he believes me, though. At the end there he sounded . . .” he trails off, frowning thoughtfully. “Tired. Really tired, almost like he'd been defeated and was accepting it.”

I don't know how to feel about that. Sliding deeper in my seat, I play with the radio until I find some music I like. Dominic let's me blast it for a few minutes, before he pulls us off the road and parks the car. “Hey,” I say, sitting up to squint at him. “What's wrong?”

“That's what I want to ask you. Laiken, are you okay?”

I start to answer then stop myself. “I don't know,” I whisper. “I have this gnawing sensation in my stomach. I'm worried something awful is going to happen.”

Dominic curls one large hand around both of mine. He's trying to comfort me, but he can't quell this sense of foreboding. “Nothing bad is going to happen to you or your sister,” he says firmly.

My hands twitch in his. I can't meet his eyes. “How do you know? Dominic, how can you possibly know?” I'm unraveling the longer we talk. I wish we'd just kept driving, it made it easier not to think but now, holding still, I'm too aware of the rest of the world around us. Something inevitable is going to happen once the safety of my limbo, of this journey, is over with.

When he slides closer, blocking out the clouded light through the windshield, I'm reminded of the trees by the brook again. He's large and sturdy and he'll live forever, sheltering me. That's how I feel as he embraces me in his car.

“I know nothing bad will happen,” he says into my ear, “because I'll stop it. No matter how frightening or dangerous something is, I'm bigger than it. I'm better than it. The sky could fall right now, and somehow, I promise I'd find a way to keep you safe, Laiken.”

Dominic wears a light smile. But in his burnt-molasses eyes, I spot how serious he is. He's not a man who backs down. Not when he wants something. He really would find a way to keep me safe if the world crumbled around our heads.

He brushes my hair from my eyebrow. “I love you, Laiken Laurel.”

I stiffen when he says my full name. He never has before.  I've probably only said it once in front of him. It's such a silly, little thing, but it turns my head into mush. “I love you too, Dominic Bradley.”

His last name has a different impact on us both. I tense up, and he frowns so hard he pulls his eyes shut. “I spent my whole life trying to be one of them,” he mutters. “It was the only thing I wanted. I didn't know I could want something else, something more, until you came into my life.”

Gripping his jaw, I make him kiss me. His mouth is hard. He doesn't open his eyes. “Run away with me,” I say, kissing him again. His lips become softer. “We'll sneak Kara out with us, and we'll just go.”

“Go where?” he asks, staring at me curiously.

“Home.” It pops out, surprising us both. “The cabin,” I say, making sense of my thoughts as they roll out of me. Even after everything my father did, I still think of that place as my home. If I can get back there, this time, it won't be to search for clues about him.

It will be to stay.

“Home,” he says, testing the word out. His eyebrows dip lower, his smile bittersweet. “I thought I knew what that word meant before all of this.”

All of this? He means me. What we've done together. What we want to do.

I go to kiss him again, but he grabs me first, pushing me on the passenger window. He doesn't let me talk, barely lets me breathe. My brain doesn't fire right when he does this. All my fibers are spending their energy trying to handle the waves of pleasure he sends through me.

It's wonderful. And I love it.

So why do I still feel like Death himself is on his way to my door?

****

IT'S LATE WHEN WE PULL up to the estate.

Security guards stand like sentinels around the gate as we roll past. A German shepherd barks, watching me through the window. I don't know what it is, but I get the impression everyone, even the dogs, are on edge. Dominic parks his Jaguar in the first empty spot at the end of the long driveway. The air is strained without the engine's constant rumble to cut through it.

In the dark car, he sighs loudly. “I'll have to talk to them in person.” He means his parents. “Do you want to be part of the conversation?”

He's never asked me that before. I face him, my belt still buckling me in. I'm not eager to get out of the car. “I'm definitely not ready to talk to Silas or Annie,” I say, laughing humorlessly. I'm not even ready to talk to Kara. I keep that last part to myself, but my frown slips free.

Dominic isn't suspicious.  He thinks the frown has to do with his parents. “It's okay. I can handle them myself.”

“Are you sure?” I ask, eyeing the ominous mansion. Light glows through the windows, but a few have their curtains drawn. Are his parents sitting in a room, or are they right behind the front door, waiting for us? I glance through the windshield towards the silhouettes of trees in the distance.

Bending towards me, he wraps a fist in my seat belt, holding it against me, trapping me, as his mouth hunts for mine. My eyes flutter shut, a pleased moan drifting from my lips.

Pulling away, he lets me see the fire waving in his eyes. It reminds me of the one we built in the cabin. “Remember what I said earlier,” he whispers. “I'll keep you safe. Got it?”

My nod is sluggish. “Got it.”

He unclicks my belt for me then opens the door to climb out. I sit there a moment longer, because even with him gone, I can still feel his presence. The car smells like him, his fingerprints are on my skin, and my tongue remembers the shape of his kisses.

Regretfully, I exit the car after him. “I might walk around, get some air. Sitting in the car for hours makes my whole body stiff.”

Dominic pulls his jacket up his throat, eyeing me doubtfully. “You're sure you want to stay out here? It's freezing.”

“It's nice,” I argue with a coy smile. Shrugging, I wrap my hair around my throat like it's a scarf. “I've got plenty to keep me warm. Talk to you after, okay?”

He nods, freeing me from our moment. My heel inches backwards, separating us so I feel okay enough to turn and run. I don't want him to think I'm running from him.

I have so many times before, but never again.

My hair uncoils from my neck as I sprint. It flies behind me like a comet's tail, my breath a steamy warning that I'm crashing towards my goal. It takes me eyes a bit to adjust, but I recognize the preserve as it rises in front of me. I slow when I notice the gate is propped open. Wyatt never forgets to close it.

Tiny hairs on the nape of my neck rise. They wave in the air, as jagged as my nerves. Creeping closer on the balls of my feet, I slip through the gap and into the mini forest. There's no real light here—only what the moon and stars provide. The clouds have cleared, giving me better visuals than normal.

Up ahead, along the path, I hear sounds. My pulse quickens. Someone is here, in my private sanctuary . . . but who? I brush aside some bushes and see Annie.

She crouches in the grass. Her hair is loose. It’s the first time I've seen it like that. It's always been snapped back in a tight bun. She's looking at something in her hand. I move closer to get a better look. Is that wine? Why would she pick here, of all places, to drink?

Annie lets her head dip forward. It slings between her shoulders, giving her the stature of a grim gargoyle. I can't discern what she's mumbling to herself, but she is talking; gravely, slurring whispers that make no sense. Then she tilts the bottle back, sucking it down until it drips down her jaw and throat in crimson rivulets.

My instincts are firing warning after warning. I crouch low and start to back away, but my heel crunches on a pinecone. Annie's head jerks up.  She stares at me like she's seeing a ghost. Then, bit by bit, her eyes narrow. “You. What, couldn't leave me alone to wallow in peace?”

My mouth moves, but nothing comes out.

“Stand up,” she snaps.

Jumping to my feet, I keep my hands at my sides awkwardly. I feel like a toy soldier. I hope she doesn't plan to break me like one.

Swaying as she rises from the grass, she faces me fully. “Well, answer me. Here to rub it all in?”

“I—what? No, I just . . .”

“Why are you here?”

“It's my favorite place,” I finish lamely. Annie blinks owlishly. “I come here sometimes to be alone, or to work in the dirt with Wyatt.” I couldn't speak before, now I can't shut up. “I've never seen anyone else here. Not once.”

“You like it here,” she mumbles. She scans the trees overhead. “I'm glad someone does. I thought he'd like it, too. That's why I built it.”

My mind is spinning like a top. It has no hope of slowing down. “You're the one that made the preserve?” She never struck me as someone who enjoys nature.

Annie takes a swig from the bottle. “I hoped it'd be as beautiful as the spots she took him on their private little hiking trips.”

Him? I wonder.

“But every time he visited here, he only wanted to see you. He refused to let me show him this place.”

I cover my mouth in shock. No, she can't be talking about my father. But she is, she definitely is. Fuck, my brain is twitching from the revelation just below the surface that I'm struggling to fight against. It can't be true. Because if it is, if she did all this for him, that must mean . . .

She shuts her eyes, tilting her head back so far I expect her to tip backwards. “I'm so, so stupid. How else do you explain holding out hope for someone after all these years?”

I reach out and grab a tree. I need something to keep me on my feet. “You're in love with my father?” I ask, my voice cracking. All this time I'd been certain she hated him. But the source of her grief is obvious now. It makes her become less frightening, the drinking alone in the dark taking on a depressing aspect.

She glances at me, then back to the branches above us. “I never understood why he fell in love with Violet. Was I not good enough, not pretty enough? You really do look like her,” she says, squinting my way. “That must be why Dominic is obsessed with you.”

My heart presses against my ribs. I can barely talk. “He told you that?”

Her tone changes; it makes my blood run cold, especially when she stands up, walking towards me. “Of course not. He didn't have to.” The dullness in her eyes morphs to cruel interest.  “Can't you tell when you're being insulted? Dominic wants you because he's weak, like your father. Violet was a nobody. She sold backpacks at a sporting goods store! I had money, connections, intelligence! I was better!”

“Stay away from me!” I shout, holding up my hands, retreating carefully over the uneven ground.

She doesn't slow her approach, the whites of her eyes bloodshot. “He would have never left me if he hadn't knocked her up. When I overheard her telling him . . .” she doesn't finish; instead she throws the bottle at a tree, the glass shattering everywhere.

I scream in shock, shielding myself with my arms. Is she insane?

Annie takes another step and stumbles on some slippery leaves. “I was drunk like this that night, too. After I found out about Violet, I didn't know what to do. I had to distract myself. Find something to soothe the wound.”

Her words remind me of my own inner thoughts after what happened with Franklin, and that's terrifying. “Annie,” I whisper. “Calm down.”

She talks over me. “Silas didn't turn me down. He'd always flirted with me at work. I fucked him, and I barely remember any of it. Just that I didn't feel better the next morning.” Her eyes focus on me again. There's some clarity there. “I loved Joseph, not Silas. I made a mistake sleeping with him. And that mistake haunts me to this day, all six feet and whatever inches of him.”

I inhale sharply. “Dominic isn't a mistake. How can you say that about your own son?”

She throws her head to the side; her hair gets in her eyes. “I know he loves you, but you can't possibly love him. He's a violent, useless brute. He killed my nephew, surely you know that?”

I'm sorely tempted to reveal the truth to her. But I can't. That's Dominic's secret, not mine. “I do love him,” I say proudly. “I love him in a way you never have. And I'm sad for you, knowing that.”

She laughs into her hand, covering her mouth while barely muffling the awful sound. “You love him? Do you really?” Her eyes are wild, they look at me, but they see someone else. “Joseph and the rest of you have brought me nothing but pain. I never harmed you—seriously harmed you—because of my feelings for him. I even prepared a nice room for you, those lovely clothes, hoping you'd appreciate my efforts. Tell him how kind I was, how special.” A gloss spreads over her eyes then evaporates as her fantasy goes up in smoke. “But what's the point anymore? He doesn't care what I do. He doesn't care what happens to you, either, or why else would he vanish into thin air and leave you behind?”

The danger in her glare sends my pulse into an erratic spasm. I've never seen such a horrific smile on someone's face before. “Annie . . .” I croak, unsure what she's planning.

Her hands clench; she takes another step towards me. “As much as I hate my son, he's more useful than Kara. She's just a copy of you. I don't need two of Joseph's daughters around here. Do you think you love him more than you love her?”

No. She wouldn't hurt her!

But the madness in her eyes says she would. She definitely would, and happily so. Annie's nearly on me, and I'm saved by the alcohol that makes her sluggish. Dodging her attempt to grab my arm, I turn and flee. She's drunk—that'll give me a sliver of extra time to get out of the preserve before she does. I need that head start.

I have to do what I can before it's too late.

I won't let anyone take my sister away from me.