“What’s the point of being a vampire if you don’t use all the cool powers that come with it?”
I paused, contemplating his question. There certainly were a lot of perks to being a vampire. We’d talked about this briefly while we’d been Ivy’s prisoners, but like everything else about that time, it had been fraught with too much of the unknown.
“You really like it, don’t you? Being a vampire, I mean,” I said.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “I’m not sure I could ever be human again.”
I’d asked Trent once if he’d become human for me, and he’d said yes. Now I knew what Jax’s answer would be, not that I had any reason to ask him that question. But it was a hard reminder of why Jax and I weren’t good for each other.
“Let’s go get some ice cream,” Jax said suddenly.
“I don’t like ice cream.”
He paused. “Liar.”
“Cheater.”
He draped his arm around my shoulders and turned my body into his. I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my head on his chest. His embrace was comforting and exactly what I hadn’t realized I needed right then.
He sighed with contentment, tightened his hold, and pressed his lips to the top of my head in a tender kiss. “You’re strong, Chloe, and whatever happens, you’ll be okay,” he whispered. “I’ll make sure of that.”
Closing my eyes, I stood there and let him hold me, which probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, but I needed the security he offered. I craved the intimacy that Trent had so abruptly taken when he’d broken up with me.
My phone buzzing in my pocket broke through the moment. I pulled my phone out.
Abby: WHAT ARE YOU THINKING GOING OUT ON A DATE WITH JAX?!?! AND DON’T DENY IT. GINA SAW YOU!
I groaned, and before I could even start typing a reply, Abby called. I answered and put her on speaker. This was as good a time as any to practice what Jax had taught me.
“Hey,” I answered.
“You have some serious explaining to do,” Abby said. “Why are you out with Jax?”
“Because he’s my friend, Abby, and friends are allowed to hang out,” I said firmly, my gaze wandering up to Jax’s.
He smiled, but it was tight, like hearing me say we were just friends was painful for him.
“He’s Trent’s brother!” she shrieked.
“So what? Wyatt is Whitney’s brother, and you’re making out with him every chance you get.”
“Totally not the same thing,” she snapped. “Whitney is cool with me and Wyatt. Is Trent okay with you hanging out with his brother?”
“Yes,” I lied.
At that, Jax’s smile morphed into something more genuine, and pride filled me, though I wasn’t sure why. Being a skilled liar really wasn’t an admirable trait, but knowing he was proud of me was a boost to my self-esteem.
“Where are you now?” Abby asked.
I glanced at Jax for an answer, because I really had no idea.
“The cliffs,” Jax answered.
“Oh, my God!” Abby said, her voice so high-pitched it hurt my ears. “The cliffs?”
And then I remembered what Jax had said earlier about how teens would come here to make out and have sex.
My eyes widened. “No, not like that,” I blurted. “I mean, we were just talking. Nothing like that happened.” My heart thrashed violently in my chest. She had to believe me.
“We’ll meet you at the ice cream stand,” Jax said, and then he plucked my phone from my hand and ended the call. “That was horrible.”
“But… I wasn’t lying,” I said.
“But you sounded like you were lying,” he said and headed for the car. “That’s what I meant when I said you have to remain calm and think fast when you’re put on the spot.”
“I wasn’t lying, though,” I said more forcefully.
Jax whipped around so fast I slammed into him. He grabbed my upper arms and steadied me. “But she doesn’t know that. All she heard was your voice and how you tripped over your words. To her, you are lying.”
“Right.” I nodded. Who knew lying could be so complicated? I had a whole new respect for people who could do it so easily.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of it.” He dropped his hands from my arms, and I involuntarily shivered from the lack of contact.
He hadn’t once tried to kiss me or convince me to be with him, and while I was beyond grateful for that, I couldn’t help but wonder why. Had he completely given up on having a relationship with me? That was what I’d wanted, right?
Then why did it feel like he’d dumped me, too?
CHAPTER FORTY:
Memory Lane
“SWEAR TO ME ON YOUR MOTHER’S ashes that nothing happened with Jax,” Abby said. She gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white. The sight of her hands like that made mine ache.
“I swear,” I said. “Why do you care anyway?”
She hadn’t stopped interrogating me since I’d gotten into her car.
“Because, Chloe, do you know how bad it looks? You go from one brother to the next. It’s not good.” Abby shook her head.
I clamped my mouth shut so I wouldn’t laugh. If she only knew the half of it.
“Besides, what if Trent decides he wants to get back together? How will he feel when he finds out you’ve been messing around with his brother?” She sliced a look at me, and I stared back at her, expressionless. Abby sighed. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”
Too late for that.
“Well, nothing happened, okay?” I crossed my arms and stared out the passenger window.
Thankfully, she pulled into the driveway a moment later. I was out of the car and halfway up the porch before she got out.
“You’re home earlier than I expected.” Uncle Dean laughed, and I smiled in return.
Abby entered behind me, kissed her dad on the cheek, then headed upstairs without another word. Good. I wouldn’t have to deal with her the rest of the night now.
“Where’s Aunt Beth?” I asked, glancing around.
“She had to run to the store. She should be back soon.” Uncle Dean reclined in his chair and tucked his hands behind his head, his gaze straight head.
I entered the living room and sat on the couch. Not that I particularly wanted to hang out with Uncle Dean, but if I went upstairs, Abby might ambush me. I turned my attention to the television. That was a mistake. Uncle Dean was watching Gone with the Wind.
I snatched the couch pillow and hugged it to my chest. “This was Mom’s favorite movie,” I said.
We used to watch it every year on her birthday, after we gorged ourselves on shrimp Lo Mein and fortune cookies, which Mom insisted were better than any birthday cake.
My breath caught at the memory, and my chest tightened painfully at the sudden surge of emotion. It had been so long since I’d thought of my mom like this, and it only served to remind me of how selfish I’d been lately.
“Do you want me to change it?” Uncle Dean asked.
I shook my head. “No, it’s okay. If I tried to avoid everything that reminded me of her, I’d have to live in a cave somewhere.” Which, right about now, wasn’t the worst idea I’d ever had.
We fell silent, and I stared at the television, although I wasn’t really watching it. I could recite every line from memory, and I could still see my mom curled up on the couch with her favorite afghan, trying to hide her tears. I never understood why, though, because I always cried right along with her.
“Sarah—your mom,” he amended, “always loved the classics.” He laughed. “I’m convinced she had an old soul.”
I smiled. “She used to love shopping at vintage stores, especially around Halloween. The last Halloween before her accident…” I swallowed around the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “We dressed up as girls from the eighties. We told people we were back-up dancers for Madonna.”
I laughed, remembering the strange looks we�
�d gotten. Neither of us had cared, though. We were together and having fun, and that’s all that had mattered. Life with Mom had always been so simple. I missed that. I missed her.
Uncle Dean nodded. “She used to insist on going school clothes shopping at secondhand stores. It drove our mother crazy, but Sarah had her own style, and she wouldn’t let anyone tell her it was wrong.”
“That sounds like Mom.” I sighed and returned my attention to the movie.
“She used to work at the Noon Mark Diner, you know?”
“No, I didn’t know that,” I said, shaking my head.
Mom never talked much about her childhood or her life here in Keene Valley, and when I tried to ask her about it, she’d change the subject. I couldn’t help but wonder what had been so bad that she refused to tell me even the smallest of details.
“Yup.” He nodded again. “She made good tips, too.” He smiled. “Every night when she’d come home, she’d talk about the people she met and where they came from. I think she liked the job so much because she got to experience new places vicariously through all the tourists.”
“She was so excited for me to start applying to colleges.” I shifted and stretched my legs on the couch. “She wanted me to apply everywhere so we’d have an excuse to travel to new places for all the college tours.”
Mom had her heart set on me going to college on the east coast because she wanted me to be able to experience all the seasons as they were meant to be—that had been the one thing she always missed about living in Keene Valley. The crisp fall air and the leaves changing colors. And the pureness of the first snowfall.
I couldn’t deny I was excited about getting to see snow for the first time. I only wished she were here with me.
“Did she like living around here? She never talked about it,” I said.
He shrugged. “She made the best of it, but your mom and small towns didn’t really go together. She was always destined for bigger things.”
I nodded in agreement, but I wasn’t completely satisfied with his answer. Her dislike of small towns didn’t really justify her reasons for not wanting to talk about her life here. A heavy silence fell over us, and I once again stared at the television.
“I wanted to be there, you know,” Uncle Dean said.
“What?” I jerked my head to look at him.
“When Sarah got into her accident, I’d made plans to go to Florida. I wanted to be there with her, but she wouldn’t let me.” He sighed and shook his head. “She said she would be fine and didn’t need me there acting like an annoying big brother.” He let out a sharp, forced laugh.
I smiled faintly. “When she made up her mind about something, there was no changing it.” I was exactly like her in that regard.
“I know. But when she fell into that coma…” He frowned. “I should’ve been there.”
What could I say to that? I agreed. He should have been there regardless of what Mom wanted, and I wasn’t going to tell him it was okay, because it wasn’t. Mom had needed him, even though she’d never admit it. I had needed him, too.
Aunt Beth had been a Godsend through the whole ordeal, and I wouldn’t have made it through everything that happened after if it hadn’t been for her. Then again, none of us knew Mom would never wake from that coma. Still, it wasn’t fair that Uncle Dean put all that responsibility on Aunt Beth.
“I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said. “I’ll never forgive myself.”
Tears stung my eyes. “You know Mom wouldn’t want that.”
She was the most forgiving person I’d ever known—she’d even found it within herself to forgive my father for walking out on us. Of course, she knew why he’d done it, and she’d allowed him to leave, so in her eyes, there wasn’t anything for her to forgive. It would torment her to know her brother was carrying around so much guilt and sorrow, especially when he’d been honoring her wishes.
“I know.” He nodded, a sad smile pulling at his mouth. “I only hope I can make it up to her by taking good care of you. She loved you so much, Chloe. You were her world.”
The first tear slipped down my cheek, and I wiped it away as I fought back the urge to sob. “I miss her so much.”
“So do I.” Uncle Dean sat beside me on the couch and pulled me into a hug.
I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as he stroked my hair and rubbed my back, exactly like my father had done the night before he’d left us.
Back then, I hadn’t known he was saying goodbye. But now I did, and I knew why, and that knowledge made the memory of that night twice as painful. I couldn’t hold back my tears a moment longer, and I cried—again—for my mother and for my father.
“Thank you,” I mumbled against his shoulder, then released him and wiped at my eyes.
He turned away quickly, but not fast enough—I’d seen the glean of tears in his eyes. My heart fractured.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your night,” he said, his voice strained.
“You didn’t. Even though I still cry a lot, it is getting easier to talk about her like this.”
Uncle Dean smiled and patted my leg. I stood, thanked him again, and started up to my room.
“Oh, Chloe. Wait.” Uncle Dean met me at the stairs and handed me an envelope. “This came for you today.”
I took the envelope—it was from my father. “Thanks.”
I raced to my room and tore open the envelope. A single sheet of paper was wrapped around a debit card. The note read:
Use wisely. Let me know if you need more. Dad.
How much was on the card? I’d have to call or get online and find out, but first, I needed to call my father.
I pulled up his name in my phone and pressed the green button. It rang half a dozen times before sending me to voicemail. I hung up and called right back.
This time, he answered. “Is something wrong?” he asked.
“Nope. I got the card you sent me, and I just wanted to say thanks.” I sank down onto my mattress and sniffled. My nose was stuffy from crying.
“Oh, you’re welcome. Is it enough?” He coughed, the sound getting distant, like he held the phone away from him.
“I don’t even know how much is on there. I haven’t checked yet.” I set the note and card on my nightstand. “I literally just opened it and then called you.”
“Three thousand dollars.”
“What?” I shouted and stood abruptly. “Are you serious?”
“Figured after everything you’d been through you probably needed a whole new wardrobe.” He coughed again, and I winced at how raw he sounded.
“Are you all right?” I asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Getting over a cold, that’s all.”
I returned to sit on the bed. “Thanks for the money.”
Shock still permeated my thoughts, though, and I couldn’t think of anything else to say. He’d sent me three thousand dollars. I couldn’t believe it. When I’d asked for money to buy clothes, I’d expected a couple hundred dollars, not a few thousand.
“How have you been? How’s school?” he asked. Ice rattled in a glass on his side of the phone.
“I’m good. School’s good. There’s actually a dance coming up that I’m going to.” I scooted into the center of my bed and rested against the headboard. “Me, Abby, and a couple other friends are going dress shopping tomorrow.”
“Sounds fun.”
I traced my finger along the designs in my comforter, the conversation I had with Uncle Dean playing on repeat in my head. “Do you remember the night before you left? How you came into my room and we made a blanket fort over my bed?”
“Yeah, why?” His voice cracked, and I wasn’t sure if it was from emotion or because he’d been coughing.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged even though he couldn’t see me. “I was just thinking about that today. We played Go Fish until I couldn’t keep my eyes open.” I smiled at the memory. “Then you read me
my favorite book.”
“And I stayed with you until you fell asleep.” He sighed.
“I know,” I whispered. “I remember.”
Dad was silent for a moment. “Leaving your room that night was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” His voice cracked again.
Silent tears slipped down my face. “It’s okay.” I swiped at my cheeks. “I know why you had to leave.”
Not that I’d ever fully forgive him for making me grow up without a father, but I understood his need to protect me.
“Sorry for bringing it up.” I took a deep breath. “Well, I gotta go. Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Have fun shopping tomorrow.”
“I will. Love you, Dad.” I smiled through my tears.
“Love you, too.”
Ending the call, I set my phone on the nightstand and rubbed my eyes. Who knew taking a stroll down memory lane would be so exhausting?
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE:
A Whole New Look
THE CAR RIDE SO FAR HAD been too silent, too tense, and all around uncomfortable, but I wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence. I hadn’t done anything wrong. Abby should be the one to speak up and apologize. So should Gina, but neither of them were saying a word.
“All right, what’s going on with you four?” Whitney asked, her gaze starting on me, then sweeping across Abby, Ellie, and Gina, who were seated in the backseat of Whitney’s car.
“Nothing,” Gina said, but she wouldn’t look at anyone when she spoke.
Ellie turned to glance out the back window.
Abby’s challenging gaze pinned me in place. “You haven’t told her? If you weren’t doing anything wrong, why are you hiding it?” she asked, accusation dripping from every word.
I remained silent, jaw clenched. Fuming. How dare Abby? I’d explained what happened with Jax—which was literally nothing—but she’d been on my case all last night and this morning. Of course, she refused to acknowledge that if she hadn’t lied to her mother and made me cover for her, I could have gone home instead.
“Chloe?” Whitney asked, brow raised.
Eternal Bond : (The Cursed Series, Book 3) Page 29