The Rush (The Siren Series)

by Higginson, Rachel

Although our apartment building was not entirely full yet since it opened a few years ago, this floor was. However we didn’t know any of our neighbors. It was dangerous to get to know people where we lived, the curse was unpredictable and we preferred to live without the drama. Besides, my mother was a selfish creature and making friends was not necessarily a top priority for her.

  Her priorities started with making money and then only became variables of that.

  Because we didn’t know our neighbors and didn’t care to know them, I knew I was safe until the door shut behind me, but walking down the long hall with her eyes so hatefully turned on me was intimidating.

  To say the least.

  “Where have you been?” she snapped as the door clicked closed behind me.

  She hadn’t moved, except to allow us privacy. Still framed in the doorway, her hands had moved aggressively to her hips and her eyes narrowed into slits of fury.

  “I was out with Chase,” I lied. Blatantly.

  She seemed to chew that over for a minute before deciding that was an acceptable response. She forced a breath out and a wave of whisky hit me. Then she wobbled on her feet and I knew this was bad.

  She never drank whisky. Never.

  Lady’s only ever drink delicate drinks. Save the hard stuff for the boys.

  Still, when things went badly for her, she hit the sauce. And hard.

  “Are you Ok, mom?” I asked before thinking better of it.

  “Of course, I’m Ok,” she bit out, her relaxed eyes instantly tensing again. “Have you gained weight?”

  I opened my mouth, closed it again and then opened it. “Um, no, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh, well maybe you need to drop three pounds anyway, Ivy,” her tone was that pretending kind of care. A sick feeling washed over me and settled in my stomach. “You’re coming into womanhood and you don’t want that extra weight to settle in unflattering places.” I just nodded slowly. Three pounds felt like too much to me. I already barely ate. Ugh. But mom wasn’t finished, she continued with “Did you dye your hair again?”

  Her question caught me off guard. “Um, no, not since I dyed it back.” I touched the end of my golden red hair and then held it up to the light. Before Sam I had gone through this super rebellious phase and dyed it black. It wasn’t so much this desire to get in touch with myself as it was to send a big F you to Nix and my mom. Of course it backfired when Sam crashed his car into the streetlight. But at the time I had felt pretty badass.

  Now I knew better. Pissing off Nix and my mom only intensified their efforts to break me. The new game plan, to simply slip away in the dead of the night, was my only hope.

  “It looks darker. Oh, god, I hope this isn’t how it stays. You probably ruined it when you dumped all that black poison on it.” She took a step forward and grabbed a chunk full of my hair. Her fingers closed around a fistful of it, near the roots and she yanked it toward her. I winced a little when biting pain shot across the base of my neck and up to the crown of my head.

  “Ow, mom,” I whispered.

  “Oh, did I hurt you?” she let go of my hair with so much force I stumbled backward. “Did I hurt you Ivy? God, you’re so pathetically fragile,” she waved her arms around as if to demonstrate the whole of me. My heart constricted into a tight ball in my chest. This wasn’t the first time she made this speech, nor would it be the last. Still, the wounds were always fresh, always just as painful. And the worst part about everything she was saying, was that it was all true. “Do you know what I was doing at your age, Ivy? Do you have any clue? I wasn’t running off for six months of spa treatments, that’s for goddamn sure. I had my priorities straight. I believed in my future. I was loyal. I have no idea how you are even my child. I was Nix’s choice too once, his trophy. I’ve been where you have, but the difference between me and you is that I treated my responsibilities with respect. I became the person I was supposed to be. I embraced my destiny. I need to get your sister back, she will know better. She will be better.”

  Angry tears pricked at my eyes, hot and ready to spill over. “This? This is who you were supposed to be?” I gestured at her with my hands now, at her black silk pants, and lavender halter top, at her outrageously expensive shoes, to her Cartier necklace and earrings. “I don’t want your destiny; I don’t want your responsibility. It’s so sick and disgusting that I can’t even stomach what you do. And I hope to God, Honor never comes here, never has to live through what I’ve lived through. I hope she never sees what kind of monster you really are.” The words were out before I could stop them. Our faces registered the shock at the same time. And while I stood there staring at her dumbfounded, she recovered first by slapping me across the face.

  The sound of her palm hitting my face resounded loudly between us. My mouth kind of hung open stupidly, while the tears finally slipped out the corners of my eyes to my cheeks and then dripped carelessly off my chin. I brought a shaking hand up to my face and held it gently against the still stinging skin.

  “Don’t ever speak like that to me again,” she growled in a hoarse voice. “How dare you.”

  I closed my mouth with a clap of teeth hitting teeth, but I refused to apologize. This might be the dumbest thing I had ever done, but I wasn’t going to apologize.

  “Go to your room,” she snarled viciously at me. “I’m calling Nix. I’m sure he will be so happy to hear how his therapy worked out for you.”

  My chin trembled as her words hit me, the full realization of what I’d done finally settling over me. Damn it. So much for keeping my head down and just getting through this.

  “You think you are so much better than me? So much better than everyone else! I will make damned sure that this is a lesson you learn from Nix. He can show you your place because I have no more patience for you.” She didn’t even look like herself. Her eyes were crazed and psychotic, her face screwed up with rage. In the motion it took her to slap me her hair became wild and out of place, her shirt a little off center and her eye liner smudged in the corner. She was a mess and suddenly unwanted pangs of sympathy flooded my veins like ice. I didn’t think I was better than her; I just wanted a better life. “Go to your room, Ivy. I’ll call for you if I need you.”

  I didn’t say anything; I just turned on my heel and obeyed. Once the door was closed and locked behind me I collapsed on my bed in a heap of despair. The tears didn’t stop for a long time, they fell in relentless puddles mixed with snot and more emotions than I knew what to do with. Eventually I fell asleep with my mother’s threats and accusations rolling around in my head.

  And Ryder’s.

  And when I finally fell asleep it was only to dream of a troubled teen that couldn’t escape the ugly role life had dealt her. She never escaped. She never knew another life than slavery and submission.

  Worst of all she never knew love. Not from her family, not from a man.

  And not from herself.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  The next morning was a blur of emotional dysfunction. I didn’t want to stay home where my mother was lurking, but school seemed like not the answer. Still, I went.

  Even though I knew I could still sit with Chase and his friends, it seemed like such a heartless thing to do. I didn’t mind remaining friends with Chase, and I apparently couldn’t get rid of Ryder and Phoenix, but the day after we ended it, seemed a little sudden to flaunt that in his face.

  So after a morning of mindless classes I found myself wandering around the band room. I used to come here a lot, before Sam. Well, and during Sam. There are never any classes over the lunch period in this wing of the building, so it’s nice and quiet. But there is a hallway off the tiered band room filled with practice rooms and those are occupied a lot over lunch.

  I love the muffled sounds of all the different instruments colliding in the hallway. The sounds individually could be beautiful, or strained or awful, but together, in the hallway they were complete chaos. It’s how I pictured the definition of “cacophony.” Not that I s
aid that word often, but still, this hall was what a cacophony of sound…. sounded like.

  But today everything was silent and still. I was alone. Which seemed fitting, since in my head I was anything but alone.

  I walked all the way to the end of the hallway where it ran into a brick wall and entered the last small practice room without a sound. There was a piano set up on the far wall, and one extra chair besides the piano bench with a metal music stand in front of it.

  I contemplated calling Exie or Sloane and opening up about how unhinged my mom was, but they had their own maternal problems. Besides I wasn’t really sure what to do with it all. She had never been the most in-touch mom, especially lately. But she had never hit me before.

  I shivered in the damp room and let the silence wash over me. It was so loud, so deafeningly quiet that my ears rushed with the absence of sound and my skin felt physically oppressed by it.

  Suddenly I couldn’t take it anymore, the soundlessness, the thoughts in my head, none of it. I yanked the piano bench back and slammed my body down. My fingers were flying up and down the keyboard before I could catch my breath.

  Loud, pounding melodies that were meant to be sweet and slow, or fast, feverish classical pieces that I butchered until they were unrecognizable even to my ears. I pushed my fingers into aching numbness. My back stiff and my neck pained. Still I ferociously attacked the piano until I was sweating and exhausted.

  Finally, out of breath, I slumped back and dropped my hands to my lap.

  “Frustrated?” a gravelly voice came from behind me.

  I screamed in response, completely surprised. I whirled around on the bench, the smooth wood making it easy to spin around and face Ryder.

  “What are you doing here?” I gasped. My heart still beat frantically in my chest and my hands flew to my hair which I knew was disheveled and frizzy.

  “Looking for you,” he said simply. His eyes swept over me with something hidden in them. He made me nervous. There was something different about him today, even from last night. Something I couldn’t place. Like he was lighter today, weighed less or something. But not in pounds… like he wasn’t tied down to gravity today, like he would just float away at any given moment.

  And at the same time he was more intense, more…. intent with me.

  “So you had to scare the bejeezus out of me?” I demanded. I slipped my hands under my thighs and rocked forward so that my hair covered my flushed face.

  “I didn’t mean to scare you, Ivy,” he said patiently. “Sorry. It’s not like I snuck up on you or anything, you were just making a lot of noise.”

  I laughed a little hysterically. And then it turned into more laughter. Good grief, maybe I was the one that was unhinged.

  Ryder walked over to me and held out his hands. I retrieved mine from under my thighs and slipped them into his and let him pull me up. We were just inches apart when I was standing, our bodies so close together I could feel the heat from his chest and then his minty breath fan over my hairline.

  “Someone’s here to see you. They’re in the office,” he explained.

  “Is it my mom?” I asked in a small voice. I could just imagine what she was doing here trying to pull me out of school. And then panic set in, what if she was here to take me to Nix. What if I ran out of chances and last night was the final nail in my coffin?

  Oh, no.

  “No, it’s not your mom,” Ryder answered.

  “Is it Nix?” I whispered, full hysteria setting in.

  “No, it’s not. I’m not sure who it is. Tanner just caught me in the hall and asked me to find you since you weren’t in class yet.” Ryder must have seen something in my eyes because his grip on my hands tightened. “Ivy, are you Ok? Are you expecting someone?”

  “No, I’m not,” I tried to relax. If it wasn’t my mom or Nix, I had no idea who it could be, especially who would come visit me at school. But as long as it wasn’t one of them, I felt a little bit safer.

  “Ready then?” He asked, although he made no effort to move away from me.

  “Sure,” I nodded my head and he finally stepped back.

  As we left the still empty music hall I asked, “How did you know I would be back there?”

  “I didn’t. I looked everywhere else I could think of first and called your cell. I actually thought maybe you decided to ditch today. But then I remembered you took all that sheet music, so I thought maybe you went to practice, since you weren’t at lunch.”

  “Oh.”

  “But you weren’t… uh, practicing.” Ryder slanted his gaze at me, taking me in, all of me in, in just a quick sweeping gesture, but still my skin felt hot from his attention.

  “No, I forgot about the sheet music, honestly. I was, um, it’s like therapy,” I admitted. “I was expressing some frustrations.”

  “No kidding,” Ryder chuckled. “I hope they’re not all about the band. Because we’ll take this slow. I don’t expect you to play like next week. And seriously, Ivy, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.”

  “No, I want to,” I was surprised by my own conviction. My mom would kill me if she knew I was in Ryder’s band. It was Ok to spend time with any kind of boy. And technically it was Ok to go to concerts, although my mother might have disapproved of what I wore. But it was in no way Ok to associate myself with a boy band. Or any kind of band. My talents were strictly cultivated to enhance my beauty and nothing more.

  Gag.

  “I want you to, too,” Ryder admitted.

  “Hey are you alright?” I asked, intuition niggling in my stomach.

  “Why wouldn’t I be alright?” Ryder asked softly.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted with honest humor. “I just had this feeling that you needed to talk. But maybe I was wrong.”

  Ryder stopped in front of the office door and turned around to look at me. He ran a hand through his hair but paused half way through with his elbow suspended straight up in the air and his head dipped as if he were deep in thought.

  “Maybe I do need to talk,” he started and I could tell he was nervous.

  “Ok,” I whispered, probably more nervous than him.

  “Um, Ok,” Ryder took a deep breath, and then blew it out slowly. “Kenna and I, we, uh-“

  “Ivy, get in here,” Mrs. Tanner’s shrill voice broke through the spell Ryder placed on me. “They are waiting for you! What on Earth are you doing out here? Ryder Sutton, get to class right now before I write you up.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Ryder smiled dutifully, gave Mrs. Tanner a playful salute and then squeezed my bicep before leaving me alone with the wicked witch of the west.

  “Principal Costas is waiting for you in his office,” Mrs. Tanner explained with as much disgust and impatience as any one human being was capable of.

  “Thanks, T-dog.” Not because I thought I was clever, only because it would annoy the ever living hell out of her and that was one of my main goals in life.

  “And Ivy?” Mrs. Tanner called right before I reached Principal’s Costas’s office door.

  “Ryder’s a good kid, with a strong future ahead of him. He doesn’t need the likes of you poisoning his life.” When I remained calm and still, she pressed, “Do you understand?”

  “More than you know,” I mumbled, feeling the poison she referred to spreading from my heart out, to every living part of me.

  She made a feminine grunting sound but didn’t push the issue further. So I raised my hand and knocked on the Principal’s door. Antonio Costas was one of the youngest principals in Omaha. Early thirties with a young family and a reputation for being a hardass with heart, the parents of Central adored him.

  He in turn, being male and notwithstanding Ryder’s super powers, adored me. Where other students were asked to face their consequences head on, or make mature choices, I was disciplined with swats on the hand and threats to call my mother that he never followed through with.

  Not that he minded calling my mother. Please, he was male after all.
And she was…. my mother. But I tried to spare him the embarrassment of groveling at her feet since he had snot nosed toddlers and a high school sweetheart waiting for him at home every night.

  Not that he was an unfaithful man. It wasn’t his fault.

  He was actually a really good guy and because I couldn’t blame him for his reaction to my mom or me, I respected him.

  Principal Costas opened the door and greeted me with a huge smile. “Hi, Ivy, I’m glad you could finally join us.”

  “Thanks,” I returned the smile. My eyes fell immediately to the guest in his office, a woman I didn’t know.

  I followed Principal Costas into the office and swallowed back a lump of nerves when he closed the door behind him. He was a good looking guy for a teacher, young; in shape with tanned, golden skin by birth. But his most attractive feature was the confident happiness he evoked. He was always pleasant and kind, but there was an air about him that made you certain you never wanted to disappoint him.

  Principal Costas gestured to the remaining vacant chair in his dated, but well-maintained office. I sat down next to the mystery woman and shot her an uncertain glance.

  “Ivy, I’d like you to meet Mallory Hunter,” Costas explained.

  I smiled at the attractive blonde in her early thirties. She was wearing a sharp, black skirt suit and screamed polished hardass. Her returning smile was tight, but there was a soft pity about her expression I didn’t entirely understand.

  “Ms. Hunter is a lawyer on behalf of your father’s estate, as I understand,” Costas explained. “Smith Porter called earlier this morning to arrange this meeting. I am going to give you time to…. talk.”

  Principal Costas put a reassuring hand on my shoulder and then left his office quietly. I gulped back some awkward nervousness and then shifted so I could face Mallory Hunter head on.

  “Hi, Ivy,” she greeted soothingly. She held a folder in her lap, and there was an expensive brief case at her feet.

  “Hi,” I said simply and then curiosity got the better of me. “Do you work for Jared?” Jared T. Artero was the lawyer in charge of my father’s estate and my trust. We talked every year around Christmas time, he because he was my father’s friend as well as legal advice and he liked to make sure I was Ok, and me because I liked to make sure my money was Ok.