I headed upstairs with a pile of clean jeans and sweatshirts.
Before I made it to my room, the hair on the back of my neck stood up. The stench of urine overpowered me. I pushed open the door. Clothes littered every surface. My birthday books were shredded and wet. An unfamiliar black T-shirt draped over my pillow like a death garment. When I picked it up, my hands came away red with semi-dried blood.
Okay, so maybe Luna wasn’t so benign after all. With shaking hands, I snatched a duffel bag and filled it with clothes, not looking to see what they were. Not caring. I tore down the stairs, checking over my shoulder as I went. In the entry, I stuffed my feet into winter boots and pulled on my jacket. I scrounged around for a hat before remembering mine was still in my dad’s car along with my mittens. I settled for the gaudy turkey hat. In the few hours since Collin dropped me off, the wind had picked up. Blowing snow filled in my tracks on the driveway.
I turned on my phone to call Collin to let him know I’d be ready early.
My screen blinked. Thirty-seven texts from a restricted number. I scrolled through them.
We need to talk.
Where are you?
I need your help.
Why won’t you listen to me?
I’m going to hurt myself.
I want to die.
Where are you?
Please call me.
Help me.
I hate you.
If you don’t call me back I’ll hurt myself.
I’ve overdosed on pills.
I’m dying.
Please, please, please call me.
I was just kidding. I don’t do drugs.
I have a knife.
Where are you?
I’m coming for you.
Bile rose in my throat, and I punched in Collin’s number—tried to keep the panic out of my voice—and told him he could pick me up now. I waited, ready to run out the door when he got there, and read the last few texts.
I just slit my wrist. You’re to blame.
If I don’t die, you will.
I know where you are.
Chapter 14
Fear prickled my scalp. I snatched my bag and bolted outside to meet Collin at the end of the gravel road. Even in the dark, I preferred walking the mile to waiting around for Luna’s attack.
I pulled my hood tight against my chin and plowed through the building drifts. The wind howled and whipped snow in my face, obscuring my vision.
My phone vibrated in my jeans pocket. I fumbled it out with my left hand, leaving my injured one in my jacket to stay warm. No use ripping open my wound and leaving a trail of blood for Luna to follow.
Restricted number.
“Hello?”
Silence.
“Luna?”
Still nothing.
Something snapped. “Leave me alone, you sick freak. If you ever call me again, I’ll go to the police.”
I hit end and shoved my phone back into my jeans, pushing forward through the mounting blizzard. With such diminished visibility, I prayed Collin wouldn’t run me over when he turned onto the road. Or worse yet, drive right by and leave me stranded in the storm.
My phone vibrated again.
You can’t hide from me.
I threw my phone, watching it disappear into the clouds of snow. I slogged on for an eternity, turned onto the county road and continued my march. By the time a horn blared, I was convinced it was the Devil himself calling me to Hell. I welcomed his intrusion: at least it would be warm there.
Headlights blinded me as I turned to see Collin framed against the white snow. He pulled me into the vehicle on top of him. “You’re a lunatic. I told you we’d come get you.”
My stomach rolled. I never would have called if I’d known Collin had company. My teeth chattered, and I couldn’t form a coherent word. He turned the heater vent on my face and ran his palms against my thighs, lingering too long, but I was too cold to care.
The driver gunned the engine and took off into the swirling snow.
“Look, it’s Gemini,” a voice trilled from the back seat.
A girl from my freshman psych class wriggled like a puppy between two frat boys. Her baby face was painted with dark make-up, her hair pulled back into a knot at the nape of her neck, leaving her shoulders bare. Just looking at her exposed skin made me shiver uncontrollably. One boy snuck his hand under her skirt. The other wrapped his arm around her shoulder and bent his head toward her shirt’s plunging neckline.
Her condition seemed more pressing than my own. “You’re not hanging with these guys all alone, are you?”
She giggled. “You’re here, aintcha?”
The acrid taste of bile hit my tongue. I turned back to Collin. “This was our date?”
“Aw come on, baby. We were just pregrinding when you called. We’d a been done by eight.”
Disgusted, I pushed his hand off my thigh and scooted forward for as little contact as possible with his body. “I shouldn’t have called.”
And now that I did, I had nowhere to go. Collin’s breath already smelled like booze, making a trip to Medville out of the question. “Drop me off at the café.”
“Let me take you somewhere nice instead. Like my apartment.”
The girl—Chrissy?—squealed. Flesh smacked against flesh followed by a low moan. “Watchyerhands.”
Someone from the backseat passed up a bottle of peach schnapps. Collin accepted the offering and tipped it back. When he finished, he held it out to me. I shook my head, the cloying scent of nectar making my stomach roil. Shrugging, he handed it to the driver, who took a big slug and glared back at me.
I should have called Travis.
He wouldn’t have picked you up. Not after the way you treated him.
Sweet, innocent Angel chimed in. No need to place blame, Indie. It’s hard enough to make mistakes without someone rubbing your nose in it.
For God’s sake, it’s not like she piddled on the floor.
Goodness. Or gosh.
Nobody cares about your little God thing, Angel. She shit on her best friend. Brutus, his disgust palpable.
My head pounded from listening to the Dozen. It went way beyond Granny’s voice guiding me through her funeral or my retreat into the dream room during my fight with Travis. This time, I hadn’t invited them in. I pressed my hand against my forehead to ease the pain. When this brought a shred of relief, I jammed my thumbs against my temples. Harder until my mind cleared, and I heard nothing and felt even less.
The bottle came around again, and I watched my hand accept the glass, bring it to my lips and take a swig, the expected burn pleasantly absent. I took another drink and passed the bottle on. By the time we reached Collin’s apartment, we’d drained it, and I felt lighter than I ever had in my life—almost as good as sipping chai on a Sunday afternoon. I spilled out of the car into the snow. Collin scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder, carrying me the rest of the way.
When he rubbed his hands over my backside, the booze buzz intensified, and I melted into him. Travis had never touched me like that.
Indie laughed cruelly. You didn’t want him to.
Collin dumped me onto a plush couch next to Chrissy. The boys broke out a case of beer. Someone snapped a picture, sobering me just enough to realize Granny would turn over in her grave if she saw me here.
The Granny who lied to you? Luna whispered.
“Yeah, that one.”
Collin returned with two drinks, raised his eyebrows. “You okay, babe?”
“Never better.” I held out my hand for the bottle and lifted it in a mock toast. As the words spilled from my mouth, I savored the taste of irony. “To my parents.”
Collin nodded his approval and joined me on the couch. “What’s with the hat?”
My hand found the knit contraption on my head. The turkey. I flapped the wings and made my best attempt at a gobble.
Drunk. So freakin’ drunk. It felt surreal, like a dream. Like I could do anything. I twisted
a braided turkey leg around my finger. Flirting.
“Nice pad.” Unlike apartments on television shows, no posters hung on the walls and no junk filled the spaces. Not even a knickknack could be found. It looked like a talk show set with stylish furniture and video equipment lining one wall. Someone snapped another picture. I blinked, posed for the next one. “What’s with Mister Media?”
Collin waved the dude away. “It’s just my roomy. Ignore him.”
“And do what?” My voice coy. My head lolled to the side, too heavy for my neck to support. I took another swig.
That’s enough, Gemini.
I shooed Fell’s words away and turned back to Collin. “Do you ever hear voices?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like someone in your head telling you what you should and shouldn’t do?”
“It’s called your subconscious.”
I slapped him on the leg, let my hand linger. “Really, Dr. Psycho? Cuz I thought it was just some random people telling me things.”
“Your id, ego and super ego.”
“Hmmmm. They sound an awful lot like my grandma and Travis and all my other friends. They told me not to come here tonight. Well, some did anyway. Others thought I should. But that was just Indie, cuz she’s all about parties and guys and sex and stuff.”
Collin suckled on the bottle. “Are you all about guys and sex and stuff?”
I reached for the beer, pressing my chest against his arm. “But I knew Rae didn’t like it. And certainly not Angel. Oh my god. I think Angel is probably puking right now.”
The thought amused me, and I ran my hand along Collin’s leg. Higher than was prudent.
“It’s just you telling yourself how to behave.”
“Yeah, well sometimes they give me a headache.”
“Like when you do this?” Collin’s kiss fluttered against my neck. From somewhere deep inside I groaned my consent. He ran his tongue down my neck, in my ear. And then his hands were everywhere. Under my shirt, caressing my stomach. My breasts. He picked me up and carried me to the bedroom. The door shut on the noises from the living room. Excitement mixed with apprehension. I knew the outcome of being alone in his room—drunk—but somehow I couldn’t make myself care enough to stop.
Collin dropped me on the four poster bed and rolled on top of me. His body pressed against mine, crushing the air from my lungs.
He slid his tongue in my mouth, just in time for me to vomit.
Chapter 15
Luna sipped her lukewarm water, waiting for James to arrive and wishing she’d died instead, yet thankful enough to be alive to exact her revenge. With mild interest, she watched the waitress make her way to the table for the third time in as many minutes. “Look, kid. We have a no loitering policy. Either order or get out.”
Long ago, Luna learned that showing emotion incited an adult’s disgust and outrage. Already, her black clothes pegged her as a misfit. A troubled teen not worth an ounce of respect. Needing to stay for James, she combatted this stereotype with a calm voice. “I’m waiting for a friend.”
The waitress’s hard expression softened. She tucked a graying strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. “Five more minutes.”
Luna took the five minutes to feed the ache in her belly. The formation of the Dozen had given her hope for the first time in her life. Yet, it became obvious from the start that Gemini garnered everyone’s efforts and affections. She was easy to hate.
Gemini Baker, senior at Prairie Flats High School.
Straight-A student.
Part-time college student.
All-State Musician and grade-A bitch to Travis Stone.
Luna’d heard all about it. She’d even tried to be supportive of the girl who had everything, yet wanted none of it. A roof over her head, a great school career and the hottest guy alive at her beck and call.
Luna’s insides warmed at the thought of spending even one minute in Trav’s presence. A goal she planned on accomplishing in the very near future.
With Gemini out of the way, that became possible. Luna snatched onto this thought and focused on the prize. It was the reason she waited for James in this roadside dive. From the moment she met him online, she’d felt a kindred spirit. One who shared her pain, anger and frustration.
One who didn’t seem to fear acting on those feelings.
When she’d reached out to him in a private message, he’d been more than happy to track Gemini down for her.
* * *
I had lost time. A big chunk, I guessed, though I had no way of knowing for sure. The television didn’t work, my alarm clock sported a dead face, and my cell phone was gone.
There was nothing, then I was in my house, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror. Goose bumps covered every inch of my body. A huge band of bruises started at my right shoulder and ended across my belly on the left side. One set across my bicep formed four parallel lines. Ugly stitches closed a gash in my wrist. I leaned forward and examined my black eye. Not too bad. Makeup should cover that while clothes would hide the rest.
Vaguely I wondered where my parents were. They’d been known to disappear for days when the runs were good at the casino. Not that I needed them. I’d been picking up the pieces of their lives for years already and managed just fine alone. That I had lost enough time to ruin my body? Now, that scared me.
I crawled into the shower, needing the warmth to massage my battered muscles. While the water washed away some of my pain, I sifted through my memories, trying to find my last full day.
Collin in the library.
Travis taking me home, tearing out of my driveway in a hot rage I’d never seen before.
What precipitated that? I couldn’t remember. Oh Lord, my head hurt.
Bed. My parents downstairs. Or were they? Yes, because the next morning they left, sneaking out of the house with a duffel bag. The longest they’d disappeared was two weeks—please, God, not that much time.
I scrubbed the grease from my hair and wondered how long it had been since I’d last washed it. Wondered where I’d been.
My fingers found a lump the size of a golf ball on the side of my head. I pushed on it and electric pain scattered across my scalp.
Collin.
Simply thinking his name made me wince—and not just from the physical pain. I bit my tongue. Blood flooded the inside of my mouth. I spit it out. Red, turning pink at my feet.
Saw maggots. A mass of them between my toes.
Gagged, bent over to swipe them away and found rice, puffed up from the water.
Rice in the shower. I convulsed with laughter and fell forward, smashing my head on the tile.
I laid on the floor of the shower, massaging the goose egg on my head until long after the water turned cold and the bathroom fog dissipated, leaving a wet film over everything.
It was time to leave.
Once I made the decision, I embraced it. I’d stay at Granny’s and live off my paychecks. Between my nursing home pay and Granny’s car, I’d survive just fine. In five months I’d be eighteen and legally on my own.
It would only be a problem if my parents reported me missing. And since they weren’t around, I couldn’t imagine them putting up a stink. At least not until they found out about the inheritance.
The inheritance. Granny’s letter. More pieces slid into place. Maybe my parents already knew about the inheritance. Maybe that’s why they were gone, pillaging Granny’s house and stripping it of anything valuable.
I needed to call Travis, even though the thought of talking to him filled me with dread.
But first, I needed to prepare. After getting dressed, I emptied a few cardboard boxes of junk from the attic and used them to store my books. Next, I packed a suitcase with clothes I would need right away and shoved the others into plastic trash bags. That left my treasure boxes. They had always been sealed with brown packing tape. Trinkets of my past went in. Nothing ever came out. I gently nestled them in a plastic lawn bag with the homemade c
omforter from my bed.
I peeked out my window into the dark outside. Not evening dark—it was only noon—so much as cloud heavy. It would snow again. And before that happened, I had a lot to do.
One by one, I carted my boxes downstairs to the detached garage. The filthy windows let in just enough light to see through the shadows. A pile of junk Mom collected from flea markets nestled behind the bikes, the broken-down lawnmower and the wrecked Sunbird. I pushed aside the wrought-iron yard decorations and worn-out antiques that made up her resurrection pile.
Under it all, I found an old toy box resting on its back. I pulled it upright, tugged open the lid and set my treasure boxes inside. I stuffed the quilt on top. My books wouldn’t fit, so I stacked them beside the toy chest and carefully covered them with accumulated junk.
On my way back to the house, I swept my tracks, filling them in with snow to be more even with the drifts. I needed the forecasted fresh snow and gusty wind to hide all traces of my trip to the garage. I also needed a phone, which posed a new problem. My parents had never made peace with either set of farmers closest to us. Instead, they had kept to themselves and refused all social niceties. After assessing each farmer’s relationship with my parents, I decided on Old Man Parson. At least if he turned me down it’d be a shorter walk home, although there was nothing to come home to.
As far as I knew, my parents hadn’t filled the propane tank since fall. If it gave out, I’d have to haul wood in from behind the barn just to keep from freezing. My battered body wouldn’t be able to handle the labor, and I worried what would happen if Travis refused my call.
I followed the soft glow coming from Old Man Parson’s yard lights. Before I made it to the step of his farmhouse, his bent form pushed open the front door. “What are you doing out on a day like this?”
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