by Shae Mallak
"She never usually sees them in public," I noted with a frown. "I mean, Addis has seen her talk to them, but she's usually pretty private about it. Or they are," I shrugged. "I don't know."
"Addis seems awfully concerned about both you and Ava," Jonah said, stepping a little closer to me.
"He told me this morning he heard Ava arguing with them," Greg added.
"Did he mention what it was about?" Jonah asked, but Greg shook his head.
"That's strange," I scowled at the empty air Ava addressed. "She's never argued with them before. Wait—" I shifted to look at Greg again. "You don't seem fazed by any of this," I said a little accusingly.
"So?" he frowned at me in genuine confusion, not comprehending the problem.
"So," I sighed. "Most people...most people call her overly imaginative or odd or some other nice way of saying she's weird. But you didn't. You talk like you believe her." I narrowed my eyes at him like I was accusing him of a crime instead of supporting my sister.
"Don't you?" Greg returned, not a hint of anger on his face from my accusation.
"Well, yeah," I scoffed, "but she's my sister. I've known her a lot longer and seen a lot more evidence than you have," I remarked. "but you just accepted it like it was normal."
"What kind of evidence?" Greg asked curiously. "Have they caused her anxiety like this before?"
"Only once," I said quietly, glancing over at the twins. They were still out of earshot and distracted by other things—Ava by her friends and Addis by the bullies making fun of her. I pretended not to notice when he punched one of them in the stomach. "When Mom died," I admitted, looking back at Jonah and Greg. It wasn't like I needed more evidence of my impending death, but there it was. "Well, leading up to her death, I guess," I amended. I didn't go into further detail.
"That must have been hard for you all," Greg replied. "Such a burden on someone so young."
"She was only six," I sighed. "She was too young to be dealing with any of it."
"I was talking about you," Greg said softly. My head snapped up to gawk at him in surprise. He smiled gently at me. "You took on the care of the twins and a grieving father all while going through your own grief. That's a heavy burden for someone barely out of high school."
"I did what needed to be done," I said honestly. I didn’t even think twice about it. It was just the way it was.
"Taking care of everyone else but yourself," Greg smiled at me sadly, then broke into his usual goofy grin. "Say, did you like the pancakes we left for you?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes," I chuckled. "They were wonderful. Jonah said the moons were your idea."
"They were," he said proudly, puffing out his chest. "We left you a full lunar phase," he smirked. "In case you had a preference of moons for breakfast," he laughed.
"Hah, thank you," I laughed. "I think I ate my way through half of them just on my own! I have a weakness for peanut butter pancakes."
"So I was told," Greg smiled.
"So I witnessed," Jonah added with a smirk. "We really can't linger too long," Jonah said. "Go say goodbye to Addis and Ava," he prompted. "I have a few things to talk to Greg about."
I nodded, making my way over to the twins, half listening to the beginning of their conversation, curious what he had to say to him that he couldn't say in front of me. Was he telling Greg about the dragon comment? Or Kinney? Or was it something completely different—something I didn't even know about yet? Greg didn't seem to be a coworker or employee of Jonah's, so I didn't think it was a business conversation. Besides, Jonah didn't make any attempts to hide those kind of conversations from me before. So what was it? How did he and Greg connect?
"I gotta go, guys," I said as I approached Addis and Ava.
"You're going back to the mountain with Jonah?" Ava asked eagerly. I nodded. "Good," she said firmly. "That's where you're supposed to be; it's important."
"So I keep hearing," I replied a little resentfully. "What, you're not going to miss me at all?" I asked hopefully, holding out my arms in question. "I won't see you for a while probably," I told them both. Addis hurried over to me and wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug, hiding his face in my shirt. When he pulled away, the fabric was wet from his tears. Addis would miss me at least.
"Yeah," Ava replied. "But my friends said its more important for you to be on the mountain for the dragon," she said with a frown. "And Greg will be here with us," she added with a little smile. "We'll be okay, Evie." Well, one out of two wasn't bad.
"Alright," I sighed, pulling Ava into a brief, forced hug. "You two be good," I said. "I'll call you in the evenings to check on you," I added, remembering my phone in my backpack. "Around dinner time, probably."
"Okay," Addis nodded. "And maybe Greg can video with you guys, too," he added hopefully.
"That's a good idea," I grinned. "I'll make sure Jonah gets it set up, okay?" Addis nodded, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hand and his sister reached over to hold his other hand in a gesture of comfort. I glanced over my shoulder at Greg and Jonah, who were shaking hands again and exchanging their own farewells.
I hated that word. Farewell. It was too...final. Although, I guess, if—or when—I met my all-important fate with the dragon, it would be a final farewell. The thought sobered me and I wrapped both Addis and Ava in another quick big hug.
"I love you both," I whispered through tears of my own.
"I love you too, Evie," Addis said. Ava was quiet. Her silence was a knife in my heart.
"Bye, then," I said, reluctantly letting go. I walked slowly to join Jonah at the car, watching them both over my shoulder.
"You'll see them again," Jonah assured me, sweeping his thumb across my cheeks to wipe away the tears.
"Will I?" I whispered.
FIFTEEN
I couldn't stop crying during the drive back up the mountain. Jonah stopped attempting to comfort me after the first twenty minutes and handed me a handkerchief from his jacket pocket without another word. Who in the world still carried handkerchiefs?
I would've laughed at him if it wasn't for my inconsolable tears. I was being taken up a mountain to be handed over to a deathly beast. I was already given a life sentence with Jonah, wasn't that enough? Apparently not. Fate felt the need to toss in a fiery death along with it. Spending a lifetime with Jonah Carson was starting to look better and better. Hell, I'd even sleep with the guy if it meant I didn't have to die!
But what was worse was everyone's willingness to let it happen! Ava practically pushed me out the door and already replaced me with Greg, The Wonder Man. And Jonah! He was supposed to be protecting me! He spent the last twenty-four hours threatening anyone who came near me, yet he couldn't wait to get me back up to the glass cottage to meet my doom. What was that about? Why did it matter where? I would've preferred it if the damn dragon had just ended it the night before in the woods! The anticipation was killing me...a little too literally.
My one consolation was knowing my family really would be okay without me. It was a bittersweet sort of consolation. There was Greg now, and Jonah's financial help with my father was certainly a huge help! If Dad didn't ruin everything again after I died.
Would anyone miss me as much as Dad missed Mom? No one immediately came to mind. Addis maybe, but he was still pretty young for that sort of life-altering, missing-piece sort of sorrow. Familial love was different than romantic love. Family had to love you because you were related. But a romantic love—they loved you because they chose to do so. It meant more, somehow, that way, knowing they didn't have to but they did anyway.
Was that how Jonah felt about me? I tried to imagine what Jonah would do when I died. Would he mourn me as a lost love? Or would he be glad to be rid of the burden of protecting me? Part of me knew it was ridiculous—he orchestrated the whole contract situation in order to get me in the first place. While he didn't hide his feelings toward me, my family was another matter entirely. Well...my father, more specifically. Jonah seemed to genuinely like the
twins. Or at least cared about them because I did.
Maybe my father's troubles were too much for him to deal with after all and he was driving me back up the mountain in order to let the dragon dispose of me so he could be rid of me and my family without a technical breach of contract. It did sound like something he would do, manipulating the law for his own gain. If he decided he was better off without me and my family problems after all, maybe the dragon was his magical loophole.
Or maybe I was being ridiculous and paranoid. But really, could anyone blame me after the last few days I'd experienced?
I didn't reach any final conclusions with my thoughts before we arrived at the house, looking just as we left it. I followed Jonah inside, not stopping to stare at the cottage as before. Inside, I took my bag upstairs to the loft to put away my stash of underwear. The sole bed in the house made me uncomfortable with what it represented—Jonah getting what he wanted—and so I didn't linger long upstairs. I slid my book onto the shelf next to the few others and took my sketchpad and pencils with me outside.
"Where are you going?" Jonah asked as I pulled open the door.
"Outside," I said simply. Wasn't it obvious?
"I don't think—"
"I won't go far," I promised. "You'll see me the whole time," I gestured to the glass wall.
I could've just as easily sat inside to sketch and have the same view but I needed air and some space apart from Jonah for a bit to try and clear my head. Drawing always had a way of doing just that for me. Jonah stormed off to burn off steam. I drew.
He frowned, his mouth set in a firm, unhappy line, but he didn't try to stop me, for which I was grateful. My emotions were all over the place, ranging from hot anger to the cold, desperate tears I shed in the car, and everything in between. I was fairly certain if he refused me I was going to truly break. I was held together by string and glue as it was.
I settled in a spot on the grass somewhere between the house and the edge of the forest, my back to the cottage. I couldn't watch him watch me. It was bad enough I knew he was staring at me.
I flipped open to the first blank page, closed my eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. Several, actually. I cleared my mind, pushing away niggling thoughts and images until my mind was as blank as the page in my lap. I took another breath and opened my eyes, my pencil scratching over the page as lines became shapes and morphed into an image. The image that had been haunting me since I first laid eyes on it.
The graphite dragon in front of me was only a flawed shadow of the beast that I ran into in the woods, but its eyes stared back at me with a burning intensity that made me snap the notebook shut.
"It's just a drawing," I reminded myself quietly. "It's not the real thing. Pencil scratches can't hurt you." Slowly, I opened the sketchbook again and stared at the creature that was to be my fate. "Something is missing," I murmured, and started drawing again.
The small frame of a girl came into focus beside it, one hand stretched up to touch the dragon's face. She looked fearless—the opposite of how I felt in its presence—and seemed to stroke it like it was an old friend rather than a fearsome, terrifying, fire-breathing monster.
"Why didn't you kill me in the woods?" I asked the drawing pathetically. I wished it would defy logic and speak, providing me answers to questions I was too afraid to ask Jonah. "How is it possible you exist? Why do you want to hurt me? Why now—why here? Are there others like you? Or are you all alone? Do you feel as lonely as I do?" I whispered aloud. I received no reply.
I turned the page to start fresh, hoping something better would appear. I started sketching again, scowling at it like the paper personally did me wrong. But the more I drew the more I recognized the face staring back at me. I shaded the last curve of his lip before slamming it shut again and throwing it across the yard.
"Fuck you, Jonah," I muttered, scowling at the sketchpad. I tossed the pencil after it for good measure. He was everywhere! Even in my solitude, I couldn't escape him.
"I'm not sure what I did this time," Jonah said hesitantly behind me. I blushed bright red; I hadn't heard him come out of the house. "Didn't like the drawing?" he asked, nodding at the sketchpad several yards away from me. He eased down next to me on the grass, just close enough that I could feel his warmth but not near enough to be touching me. What a tease.
"Something like that," I murmured. "What do you want?" I grumbled.
"Make sure you're okay," he answered, undaunted by my foul mood. "Are you?" he prompted when I didn't respond. "Okay, I mean."
"No," I said honestly, glaring at the grass.
How could I be okay? I was stuck on a mountain waiting around for a dragon to kill me. My father was MIA and the twins had a new babysitter with a gun and a fun, goofy smile, effectively replacing me with a fancy new male upgrade. I was definitely not okay. Surely the constant crying on the drive up had clued him in to that fact.
"I know there's a lot going on," he said carefully. "And you're overwhelmed—"
"Hah! Overwhelmed is an understatement, I think," I interrupted. "Overwhelmed is a normal day for me, juggling five things at once and trying not to drop one of them. This—this is way past overwhelmed!"
Jonah sighed wearily. "I know," he replied. "Is there anything I can do to..I don't know, make it a little better?"
How about don't let me die? Let me go back home to my family? Make my father good again and my mom alive and the twins happy and cared for and...and...and a million other impossible things.
"Not really," I said instead. "It's just...just stuff I have to work through on my own."
"Alright," he nodded. "If you like, I can take you out to my favorite spot for lunch," he suggested.
I twisted and looked at him finally. His face was lit up in bright anticipation like a puppy eager to please its owner. If he had a tail I was sure it would be wagging. I couldn't refuse a puppy.
"Okay," I said hesitantly.
"Great!" he grinned widely. "I think you'll love it. You know, this mountain doesn't have to be an awful place. It can be beautiful and peaceful. I built it to be a retreat, not a prison. I want to be your friend, not your warden, Ev."
"We both know you want more than friends," I replied, shooting him a knowing look.
"Yeah," he shrugged, "but I have to start somewhere."
"So you're starting with lunch?"
"I believe I started with breakfast," he laughed. "But it never hurts to feed the person you're trying to woo."
"Best way to the heart is through the stomach," I chuckled. "My mom used to say that about my dad all the time. 'just you wait,' she always told me, 'you give a man a good meal and he'll stay with you forever.'"
"Do you like to cook?" Jonah asked with amusement.
"Eh," I shrugged. "I don't hate it. I don't pretend to be great at it, but I don't hate it. Mom could always whip stuff up and make it look marvelous as well as taste good! I've never been good with presentation, though it usually tastes fine. The last few years I've had to step up my game, cooking for the twins most every night. It's got to be cheap, easy, and edible. Luckily, the twins aren't super picky."
"Well, I'd love to cook with you sometime," Jonah suggested with a grin.
"Is this you trying to woo me again?" I gave him a mocking scolding.
"Is it working?" he replied hopefully. I laughed—there was that eager puppy face again.
"Maybe," I conceded reluctantly. "But let's just take it one date at a time, okay?"
"Date?" he beamed. I blushed bright red again. Damn my mouth. It had a mind of its own, I swear.
"I meant—I meant to say day," I murmured. "One day at a time."
"Uh-huh," he smirked. He stood up and extended his hand to help me to my feet. "Sure you did," he placated. I gave him my hand, my palm burning against his as I stood, the sizzling sensation working its way up my arm and around the back of my neck. He watched me closely, the look in his eyes when I met his gaze just as scalding. It made me want to slide closer to him and fi
nd out what the rest of him felt like.
I snatched my hand away in an effort to halt my wayward thoughts, but it did me no good. Instead of relief I felt oddly empty, like there was something missing.
Bereft, I gathered my discarded sketchbook and pencils, unable to look Jonah in the face anymore. The sketchbook was still turned to the last page with Jonah's face smirking up at me with a crooked smile and a glint in his eye.
There was no avoiding him up here. Nowhere to get away. I was going to have to get used to it—at least for the time being, until the dragon sealed my fate. Wasn't it better to play nice than to pick fights and make us both more miserable? But every time I let my guard down, he was touching me and making me want him—and not just as a friends either. No, it was definitely not friendship I was feeling. What was happening to me?