Absolution

  “Yeah.”

  Dad sighed heavily into the phone. “Be careful, Zoe. Her father’s not someone to fool around with.”

  “Her dad is… well, were not sure where he is, but he’s not on the streets. She hit him in self defense.”

  “I can’t say I’m surprised. The man was out of control. Is she okay?”

  The extent of Krissy’s injuries was undeniably deep and scarring, even if they weren’t visible on the surface. “She’s hurt, yeah. She tried to run away. It was awful. I think she’s going to need some support.”

  “Does she have other family?” he asked.

  “Her mom. And an aunt. But Luke says her mom is clueless.”

  “Well,” Dad’s voice was stiff. “She won’t be clueless after today.” A moment ticked by in silence. “I’ll keep Krissy in my thoughts.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” I hung up.

  Neither Luke nor I spoke for a few minutes. Was he thinking what I was thinking? That he and I were lucky to have the parents we had? That, in spite of our family problems we weren’t mistreated, neglected, unloved or any other myriad of anomalies that can damage people?

  Luke’s countenance lightened a shade. “Everything’s going to be okay,”

  he finally said.

  Luke, Chase and I sat in the hospital waiting room. The place was empty except for a youngish couple. Both looked pregnant, but only the female was. They sat in their over sized t-shirts and hoodies staring at a plasma screen hoisted on one of the walls.

  “So, you see anything?” Chase swept the room with a curious gaze. “No guardians, no black spirits?”

  “Nope.” What a relief.

  Luke’s face was buried in his hands. I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “By the way, I’m sorry about earlier, yelling at you. I wasn’t really yelling at you.”

  His white-streaked, finger-scraped face lifted to mine. “Doesn’t matter any more.”

  “Yeah, it does. I tried to tell you, but…” I looked to Chase for support.

  His brown eyes brimmed with excitement behind his glasses. “I was talking to Matthias’ father.”

  Luke’s tired expression sharpened. I nodded. “His name is Albert—”

  “And he’s trying to destroy your family,” Chase piped.

  “Chase.” I tilted my head at him, my tone heavy with cut the drama.

  Luke bristled. “Are you serious?”

  “Unfortunately,” I said.

  “W—wait.” Luke shifted like he sat on hot coals. “How long has this been going on?”

  “A while.” I withdrew my arm from his shoulder, clutching my hands in my lap. “When Matthias and I… connected… Albert showed up. He’s trying to destroy Matthias, and he’s using every way he can to do it.”

  “Including your family,” Chase added.

  “Yes, thank you, Chase,” I deadpanned. “Albert shows up whenever somebody’s arguing or whatever. He’s got an open invitation, intentional or not.”

  “Serious?” Luke gulped. “Man.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And the dude’s not your average bad guy, either,” Chase interjected.

  “He’s, like, the quintessential bad guy.”

  “That’s trippy,” Luke mumbled. He eyed me. “I don’t envy you, Z.”

  “When Abria was in the hospital, you asked me what was going on? I wanted to tell you, so you’d know I wasn’t talking to air or was crazy.”

  “Z, nothing would surprise me about you any more,” Luke said with a light smirk. “Why you, you think? I mean, you’re deep and all, I told you that before. But, maybe you need to be exorcized or something.”

  I snorted. “I’m about ready.” In truth, though my ability to see spirits both good and evil was at times overwhelming, I knew to my core that seeing spirits was precious gift. I wouldn’t give it up for anything.

  Not when I could help people, like Krissy.

  “Wonder how she’s doing.” I looked around, hoping we’d get a chance to talk to her. See her. Show her we were there for her.

  There was no guarantee we would see Krissy. We weren’t family. “So, you’ve never seen her mom?” I asked Luke, my eyes trained on the arched opening that led to another wing of the hospital.

  He shook his head. “Never been inside her house. She said boys aren’t allowed.” He let out a sneer. “What alternate universe are her parents living in, anyway?”

  “Seriously,” Chase said. “And I thought my parents were weird.”

  “Like they can keep their kid caged up forever.” Luke shook his head.

  “She’s lucky to be free of them.”

  “Let’s hope her aunt is normal,” I said.

  “You think she’ll go live with her?” Chase asked.

  I shrugged. “Then again, if her mom just needs a wake-up call, maybe being at home is the best thing.”

  “Yeah,” Luke murmured.

  Heels clacked on the tile floor to our left, the sound echoing from the hall that led to the other wings of the hospital. A woman appeared, dressed in a black suit. I’d seen her at Brady’s funeral—in Krissy’s parents’ van. Two police officers accompanied her. Her hands were behind her back.

  Krissy’s mom. Her dark hair was slicked in a tight knot. Her empty eyes latched on us. Nerves fluttered in my stomach. Her face sharpened like a knife glinting under light. The officers glanced at us, but continued escorting her to the exit. What was going on? The answer was on the woman’s back in the form of a horde of inlaid black spirits, just like her husband’s.

  The sight caused me to gasp. Chase and Luke both looked at me.

  Chase’s gaze followed mine to Krissy’s mother, now disappearing with the officers through the double-door exit.

  “Krissy’s mom?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  “She was cuffed.” Luke shook his head, disbelief whitening his face.

  “I’ve got to talk to Krissy, see if she’s okay.”

  “I know, I know.” I wrapped an arm around his tense shoulders.

  Luke’s blue eyes turned to mine, struggling hope in them. “You said she has a guardian?”

  I nodded. “He’s with her, I saw him.”

  Luke’s gaze turned down the empty hall.

  y y y

  We didn’t get to see Krissy. When we asked about her, the hospital staffer only said she wasn’t privileged to give out any information. I asked the nurse to let her know we’d been there. We left not knowing anything more than what we’d known when we’d arrived.

  During the drive home, Luke asked me about Albert. I told him everything I knew, watching his blue eyes brighten with fascination. His gaze lingered on mine, his expression ponderous. The two of us were getting closer through these experiences, and nothing felt better. Stronger. If Albert was trying to tear apart our family weave, he’d have a harder time now that Luke was aware.

  “I want you to tell me next time this douche-bag shows up, k?” Luke pulled his car to the curb in front our house and parked. Overhead, the skies darkened with troubled clouds.

  “Yeah, okay.”

  He extinguished the engine. Didn’t move. I waited. Outside, the sounds of an impending storm brewed: rustling naked branches of nearby aspens.

  After long moments of quiet, Luke’s gaze shifted to me. In those wordless moments, unspoken feelings passed between us and I thought, oddly, about Albert. How wrong he was.

  Family wasn’t overrated.

  There’s no rest for the wicked, or so the saying goes. I think the saying should be: There’s no peace for the victims of the wicked. Luke and I barely walked inside the house to find another mêlée. At least I wasn’t completely alone in this battle any more.

  Sure Chase and Weston knew some things, Chase more than Weston.

  Mom and Dad knowing about Matthias also helped. But Luke knowing about Albert lightened my load, spread the armor and the battle strategy to the both of us rather than me hefting the heavy responsibility alone.

  Luke and
I paused in the entry, Luke tentatively closing the front door at our backs. We exchanged glances, our gazes then shifting to the closed French doors to our right, where the unmistakable, gut-wrenching tempest of our parents’ voices gusted from Dad’s office.

  “Okay, fine,” Dad hissed out a sigh. He stood on one side of his desk, Mom on the other. “You win.”

  “I win?” Mom sneered. “This is about all of us winning as you so democratically put it.”

  “Not when we can’t afford it, Deborah. A conference will cost us a couple thousand dollars between the flight, hotel and the conference itself. We can’t spare that right now.”

  “When will we ever be able to spare it, Joe? In five years when Abria’s lost developmental ground? She’s still young. She can still make headway if we do something now. I’ve heard the conferences are life-changing. They have experts in the field of autism and they talk about everything from diet to supplements to—”

  “I said fine, didn’t I?” Dad boomed.

  Luke swallowed, his eyes blinking fast. I laid my hand on his stiff arm.

  “You said it but you don’t want to do it.” Mom’s sharp tone sliced the fight in two: his and hers.

  Albert was here.

  The thought, so close to his last encounter, drained me.

  Torrential silence followed, drowning the air with implication, censure and blame.

  “He’s here,” I whispered. “Albert.”

  Luke’s head jerked my direction, though I couldn’t see Albert in the office, I was certain that’s where he was—smack in the thick of the fight.

  “Keep your cool,” I whispered to Luke. “He hates peace.”

  Mom and Dad hadn’t noticed our entrance, and Luke swung open the glass door. “Mom, Dad—” After entering the office, Luke looked around, but of course saw nothing.

  The tension bouncing between them notched up a level with Luke and me there. Albert sat like a king in the leather wing chair tucked in the corner, legs crossed in his sleek onyx suit. He looked ready to proclaim you’re fired.

  “Now’s not a good time,” Dad barked.

  “It’s never a good time,” I mumbled.

  “Maybe if you two respected our privacy, we could get some time alone,” Dad snapped.

  “Well, maybe if you two listened to each other instead of screaming at each other all the time, you’d want to talk,” Luke’s voice rose with agitation.

  “Bravo,” Albert laughed. “Bravo, young Luke.”

  I stepped close to Luke and took his sleeve. “Dad’s right. Let’s leave them alone.”

  Luke looked at me as if trying to read some quiet message I might be trying to share. Gradually, the frustration taut across his face, softened. His blue eyes swept the room. “Yeah, okay.” I was relieved he seemed to be letting go of his anger.

  Then Luke hemmed a moment longer. “I’ve got some money from unloading my stuff. You can have it. Maybe it’ll help with this conference thing.”

  No one spoke for a few minutes. I blocked any frustration and anger trying to surface, and kept a wary eye on Albert whose delighted face gradually drew into hard angles and planes. The air slowly began to shift from heavy and suffocating to clear and cleansing. Dad bowed his head.

  “That’s a nice gesture,” Mom’s voice broke. Her eyes glistened.

  “A hundred bucks,” Luke put in, hope in his tone. “I had a ton of stuff.”

  He looked at Dad. “The conference sounds important.”

  Dad nodded, his gaze on Luke’s, gratitude for the offer deepened his green eyes.

  The mood around us softened, gentle fingers of appreciation working each heart. Albert stiffened. He uncrossed his legs. His shoulders pressed against the tall back of the chair, his cocky demeanor gone. Annoyance brewed in its place.

  I wanted to smile at him. See what just happened here, Al? But his image started to break into zillions of microscopic specks, diffused by the eternal law that good can override evil.

  I awakened the following morning to my cell phone vibrating on the table next to my bed, the vibration disturbing as it rumbled through me. Grey streams of light peered through my shutters and the air in my bedroom was chilly. I reached for the phone. 6 a.m. Weston.

  u up?

  yeah

  i need u

  I sat up, pushed the hair out of my face with my left hand, texting with my right.

  what’s wrong?

  The phone rang and I clicked it on. “Hey.”

  A short silence caused my heart to trip, wondering what had happened.

  “My dad walked out last night.” His voice sounded hollow.

  “Oh, no. Weston, I’m sorry.”

  “They were screaming at each other all night. I tried to talk to them but it was like jumping into a bonfire. Then I got mad and we screamed at each other. This is my mom’s fault.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “She screwed that loser. She screwed my dad. She screwed Max.” His voice hitched. “I’m so—I’ve never wanted to kill anybody before, but I really think I could do it.”

  My heart skittered. Was Brady there, making things worse? “Calm down, Weston.”

  “I can’t. I’m going to find her.”

  “Weston, don’t—”

  Click. The phone was dead. My hands shook. I ripped back my covers and stood, my fingers pressing the redial button over and over, but Weston didn’t pick up.

  In a flash, I yanked on a white hoodie, green sweatpants, and tugged on some thick, fur-lined boots. I grabbed my bag and went out the door, passing Mom—still in her robe and on her way to Abria’s room—as I ran down the stairs. “Can I please borrow the van for a second? Please?”

  I tore through the family room and to the kitchen, making a grab for her keys, sitting on the counter.

  “Where are you going?” she called from upstairs.

  “Weston’s.”

  “This time of the morning?”

  “Mom, yes. Please?”

  “Be back soon.” Her words were eaten up by the door closing behind my back.

  “Hold on, Weston. Hold on.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  ____________________

  I started the engine and backed out, careful not to screech this close to the house. Right hand on the wheel, left hand on the keyboard, I tried Weston over and over. His masculine voice greeted me in his recorded message: “This is Wes. Say what you want.”

  After I was half a block away from home, I pressed on the gas pedal, flooring it. I cursed and threw my phone onto the passenger seat. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

  I sailed through the handful of residential streets it took for me to get to Weston’s sprawling brick estate. I parked in the circular drive, turned off the engine and threw open the door, flying across the yard to the porch. Snow dotted my face, lancing my eyes with thin flakes of ice.

  I pounded on the front door. “Weston!”

  Images of him being dragged to jail assaulted my mind and I continued to pound, until the door finally swung open and a woman with Weston’s dark hair and eyes glared at me. Her red-blotched face appeared swollen. She wore a blue satin robe with a furry collar.

  “Is Weston here?”

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I’m Zoe. I need to talk to Weston.” I swallowed. “Is he here?” I searched the darkened entry over her shoulder. She crossed her arms over her chest, tightening the silky robe.

  “Zoe?” Weston’s agitated voice came from the darkness behind his mother.

  Mrs. Larsen eyed me with renewed interest.

  Weston sneered at his mother and shouldered her aside.

  Mrs. Larsen pinned him in the doorway with a look meant to kill.

  “Watch it,” she growled.

  Weston advanced, and his mother jerked back. The two glared at each other for a long, sweaty moment before Mrs. Larsen swiveled around and took off down the hall. A black spirit rode her back.

  Weston’s fury filled the area l
ike a raging fire. “I hate her,” he hissed.

  At least he hadn’t killed her. “Can I come in?”

  He let me pass and slammed the door. When he turned, I saw Brady inlaid inside of him, his grinning face peering at me from the back of Weston’s head.

  I sucked in a gasp, covered my mouth with my hand to keep a roll of nausea from coming up my throat.

  “He’s where I want him, Zoe,” Brady laughed. “Soon, we’ll be even.”

  Weston paced in rigid silence. “Weston.” My voice shook. “Brady’s here.”

  He stopped. Shock flashed in his eyes. I hoped he would see this for what it was and let go of his anger. But the alarm slowly faded. “So what? I hate her.”

  “I know she hurt you, and you have every right to be angry. Just control your anger so Brady—”

  “I don’t care if Brady’s here. Bring it on.”

  I made a grab for Weston’s arms, hoping my touch would calm him, but he jerked away, eyes wild and ferocious. “Where is he?” he demanded.

  “Right here, buddy.” Brady’s image wafted in and out of Weston then began circling him fluidly, like black spirits did.

  Weston followed my eyes and began grabbing at the air. “As if that will do anything, loser,” Brady snickered, dancing in and out of him.

  Weston let out a growl.

  “Don’t you feel him?” I asked, goosebumps all over my body. I tried to reach for Weston again, but he was too caught up in chasing an invisible ghost to notice.

  “You’re letting him get to you, you have to stop,” I pled.

  “Is that the best you can do?” he shouted.

  Brady fumed. He slid inside of Weston and Weston swung around and faced me. My heart banged against my ribs. “You want me to be rough, like Britt did.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  Weston lurched forward and shoved me against the wall, pinning me.

  His hot breath seethed out between his clenched teeth. Brady’s ghosted image lifted through Weston’s, his face sneering.

  Weston’s hips ground into mine and he reached up, grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head against the wall, then dove for my lips. “Baby make it hurt so good, huh? You like it like this, don’t you? Britt did, too.”

  My lungs nearly collapsed from the pressure of his body against mine.