“When we get back, you mean.”
My gaze snapped to hers, as determination radiated from her. “You’re not going to give this up, are you?” She shook her head, her fingers tightening around the keys. “Fine. Get in,” I muttered finally, opening the car door. “We’ve got a long drive ahead of us and I plan to be back before they realize I was gone.”
***
“How much further?” She whined and I shot her an exasperated look. “When you said a long drive, I thought you meant the other side of town! Not three hours.”
“8 miles, 422 yards,” I replied, my lips twitching. “And next time, you should really check before forcing yourself along for the ride.”
“Where are we going? Are you at least going to tell me that now?” I strummed my fingers on the steering wheel, debating my answer. “I think I have a right to know,” she huffed. “It’s not like I won’t figure it out when we get there.” I shot her a sideways glance.
“The Nightingale Foundation,” I answered finally and felt her freeze. “Kendra told me where it was a long time ago. I think she wanted me to avoid it, but knowing what I know now….maybe there’s something there that will help us.”
“Or hurt you,” she screeched, pinching the hell out of my underarm. “You don’t waltz right back to the place she rescued you from.”
I rubbed the throbbing spot, as I shifted as far from her as I could get in the old car. “It was abandoned,” I gritted out, tempted to leave her somewhere and come back when I was finished, but the amount of trouble she could potentially get into warned me away from that idea.
“If it was abandoned, why do you think anything would still be there?”
“I don’t know,” I burst out, sparing her a glance. “I’m curious and a little desperate to save my sisters. It seemed like something I should check out.” My words silenced her…for about two seconds.
“Well, going alone was a terrible idea.”
“I’m not alone,” I reminded her and she nodded rapidly.
“Yeah, exactly, you should be thanking me. You can’t be going all lone wolf.”
“I’m used to doing things alone,” I muttered, the words sounding even more pathetic out loud then they did in my head.
“Well, now you have a family so you’re going to have to start acting like it.”
I gave up, strongly suspecting I would never win another argument again. I pulled Bessie off the road and put her in park, engine idling.
“What are you doing? I’m not getting out,” she huffed, crossing her arms under her chest, which lifted her boobs nicely.
“Good. I don’t want you too,” I murmured, glancing out the windshield to the nondescript building two blocks down. It was exactly as Kendra had described. Brick, two-story, nestled on the edge of an industrial area. “Stay here, keep an eye out,” I told her, opening the car door.
Lightning fast, her hand grabbed my arm as she asked in disbelief, “You aren’t leaving me here alone?”
“That was the plan,” I answered, tugging on my arm experimentally, but she had a helluva grip.
“I don’t think so,” she grumbled, holding onto me as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “I’ve seen this movie and it never ends well for the blonde cheerleader.”
“Are you kidding me?” I stared as she slid across the bench seat, still clinging to my arm. “You’re scared to stay in the car by yourself?”
“Not scared,” she answered tartly. “I’m making sure you don’t do anything stupid,” she left off the er, but I heard it anyway. “Besides, this place gives me the creeps.”
“Fine, come on.” I climbed out, dragging her with me as she continued to hang onto my arm. “Just stay quiet. Can you manage that?” My tone must have conveyed my doubt because I felt her twist the soft flesh by my armpit again. “And stop doing that,” I snapped, unable to reach the stinging skin to rub it.
“You act like I talk a lot,” she exclaimed.
“You talked the entire way here,” I commented, scanning the street as we strode across. The empty streets and a general air of abandonment did give the place a horror flick feel.
“I don’t like the silence,” she confessed in a small voice, bringing my attention back to her. “You didn’t seem like you minded.”
I sucked in a breath, exhaling as I said, “I didn’t mind. It was annoying,” she cast me a baleful stare and I grinned, “But also freeing.”
“Huh?”
I chuckled at her baffled expression. “It’s rare I listen to someone talking.” I tapped the Bluetooth headphones I kept around my neck like armor. “Listening and knowing where they’re going to die tends to be distracting so I tune them out. You’re the exception.”
“Am I supposed to feel privileged?” She grumbled, following my lead as I flattened against the wall, creeping to a back door.
“Yes,” I answered, keeping my voice low and felt her eyes burning holes in my back. I tested the door, unsurprised to find it locked. I pulled out my locksmith kit and made quick work of popping the lock.
“Okay, now I’m impressed,” she whispered and I glanced at her over my shoulder. She lifted one shoulder in a quick shrug. “That was hot.”
“Good to know,” I breathed, slipping through the door, her hand on the back of my jeans as we made our way down a corridor lit by security lights. The distant sound of people talking had me scanning the hall for a place to hide. A tug on my jeans caused me to stumble backwards, and I barely refrained from knocking us both to the ground as the door we’d just gone through shut behind us.
The darkness was absolute and as I extended my arms, I realized we were in a closet. A sniff told me it was probably a janitor’s closet. “I thought you said it was abandoned,” she hissed, her breath tickling the hair by my ear. “Someone is still here.”
“I noticed,” I bit out, a wave of betrayal crashing over me. “Kendra lied.”
Arms wrapped around my waist and I was surprised when Amber hugged me tightly. “It’s a good thing that bitch is already dead,” she whispered and a huff escaped me as my arms folded around her. “Now, aren’t you glad I came?”
“Yes,” I admitted, rubbing my hand over her back. “There’s no way I would have found this closet without you.”
A muffled ringing froze us both and then Amber started wiggling frantically. “My phone,” she moaned.
“Where?”
“Back pocket.”
I slid my hands down, patting her butt until I found the phone, and pressed the side button until it silenced, only a slight vibration telling us someone was still trying to reach her.
“Probably my mom or I guess it could be Hope,” she rambled, her chest rapidly rising and falling against mine as both our hearts recovered from the near miss. “Probably Hope now that I think about it. My mom thinks I’m in school so she’d never call unless it was an emergency.” She paused. “You think there’s been an emergency?”
I shook my head, smiling in the darkness. “I bet it was Hope checking on you,” I answered her finally and she nodded against my chest.
“Yeah, probably.” She twitched against me, our bodies sandwiched together in the small space. “Maybe I should check,” she mentioned, wiggling her hips and seeming to realize my hands were still cupping her butt. “You can probably move your hands now.”
“I could,” I agreed, keeping them right where they were. “But if I move them, your butt might start ringing again.”
“I will pinch you,” she threatened and I brought my hands to her hips. “Higher,” she demanded and I shifted them to her waist.
“Better?”
“I’d be better if we could get out of this claustrophobic broom closet,” she complained, reaching into her back pocket for her phone. “It was Hope,” she confirmed and scrolled for a second. “They’re meeting at Houston’s house after school and want you there so you can see where he dies.” She shook her head. “Why did she call? Why didn’t she just text it to start with?”
&
nbsp; “No idea,” I muttered, cracking the door to see if the hall was clear. I didn’t think I could handle much longer in the closet with her and not do something we’d both enjoy. “Come on, coast is clear.” I tugged her out, hanging a right to go further in the building and she dug her heels in.
“Why are we still going in? Clearly, the place isn’t abandoned.”
“To see what they’re doing,” I stated sharply. “If they’re still doing experiments, we need to know so we can stop them.” My hard stare had her nodding slowly, her grip loosening on my arm. “If you don’t want to go with me, I understand. You can wait by the car and if I don’t come out –”
“Don’t be stupid,” she barked, her nostrils flaring. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Ever?” I winked and she rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not sure how Frank will handle me having a houseguest so soon.”
“Move,” she hissed, poking my backside. “Before we both wind up on a MISSING poster.” She fished her phone out of her pocket and started typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Telling Hope where we are so they know where to start looking,” she answered without glancing up. “What we should have done to start with.”
“I don’t want her to know about this place,” I panicked, making a grab for her phone, but she already had it back in her pocket as I fisted air.
“Yeah, I understand that, but this is bigger than you.” She pushed me down the hall, her gaze darting everywhere. “You know why someone always dies in those save the world type movies?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “Because someone decides not to communicate a critical piece of information to the group. Let’s not be those people.”
Her words faded as we came to a door, the name Lillian Dubois lettered on it, and I stopped. She stared at the door and then me. “This is her,” I murmured, tracing the letters, the lined glass bumpy under my finger. “She ran the experiment.”
Amber twisted the door knob, but it was locked and her eyebrows dipped. “That’s weird. Why would her office be locked?” We traded glances and she gestured at me. “Do your thing.”
“Should I be worried at how eager you are for me to go around breaking and entering?” I teased, trying to hide the fact that my hands were shaking as I fumbled with the lock.
“Depends…how good are you with handcuffs?”
The lock clicked and I gave her a slow leer. “I’ll show you one day,” I promised, turning the knob, and gesturing her inside.
It wasn’t as dark in her office since the room faced outside and a window let in a little light. We didn’t want to chance the overhead light or a flashlight, in case the security guards came back on their rounds. I poked through her desk, careful not to disturb anything, horror growing as I realized she still used the office.
“Oh my God,” Amber gasped and my gaze swung toward her, stopping when I saw what she’d found. “Isn’t that….” her finger shook as she pointed at the wall and I straightened, moving toward where she stood.
“Me, Hope, and Joy.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Joy
I cast an anxious glance at Brandon. He’d been distracted most of the day and I wondered for the millionth time if this was a good idea. He reached over without taking his eyes off the road, and stilled my hands.
“What are you so worried about?” He asked, squeezing gently. “Afraid your folks won’t like me?” I heard the undercurrent in his voice and some of my own anxiety eased as I realized he was worried about me.
“I think they’ll love you,” I answered honestly and he gave me an incredulous look. “Really. You’re a symbol of normalcy.” I plucked at the gloves lying on the seat between us, hating the thought of having to put them on again when we got to my house. “They want me to have friends and a boyfriend.”
He snorted, “Yeah, but not some dumb jock.”
“You’re not dumb, Brandon. Dumb would be giving up and you try harder than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I don’t know,” he shook his head. “You might have me beat.”
“What do you mean?” Wrinkles formed on my forehead as I turned toward him.
“You don’t give up even though I know it’s hard for you to just walk down the hall at school. You put up with the comments and stares and you never let it get to you.” His gaze shifted to mine for a second. “I admire you for that.”
“I wish it could always be this way,” I whispered, staring at our fingers tangled together, nothing between them. “It’s freeing.”
“Might be the first time I’ve had a girl say that about holding hands, but I like it,” he joked, trying to ease the somber mood that had fallen over me. He tightened his fingers around mine. “I promise to always hold your hand.” He lifted our entwined hands to his mouth, pressing his lips to the back of my wrist.
“I want to explain why I wear the gloves,” I stated nervously, needing to tell him the truth even if it meant he disappeared from my life. I was tired of the secrets, and the peace his presence brought me didn’t deserve to be bought with lies.
“Can it wait?” He asked, his glance pleading. I nodded, startled by the request. “Meeting your parents is hard enough. I can tell this is difficult for you to talk about and honestly, I don’t care about the reason why you wear the gloves. It’s not a big deal to me.”
I ignored the spurt of relief at the tiny reprieve, knowing I still had to tell him. He couldn’t imagine the true reason I wore the gloves and every second I waited only drew the inevitable out, but I was selfish so I nodded, giving him a soft smile. “Of course. It can wait.”
I directed him to my house, seeing Houston’s truck already parked in the driveway. Bessie was nowhere around and I wondered if Mercy and Amber were coming. Hope had told us about the text she’d received from Amber about where they’d gone and we’d all been worried until Amber had texted saying they were on the way back with news.
Hope had tried calling but Amber ignored the calls, leaving us to wait until they arrived to find out what they knew. A sidelong glance at Brandon brought another wave of anxiety. Hope had verified his expiration date had changed to match Amber’s and the others, leading us to believe he was the cause of their deaths. We needed Mercy to verify where it would happen, and I needed to touch Amber. My skin grew tight at the thought, already prepared to experience a violent death.
Brandon rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand, glancing at me. “Ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I answered, forcing a smile as I grabbed my gloves and hopped out of his truck. I wiggled my fingers into the tight gloves, ignoring the impression that they were shrinking every time I pulled them on, and walked in the door with him.
Houston popped his head out of Gramps’ room. “Mom and Dad aren’t home yet. We were just talking to Gramps.”
“Would you like to meet my grandfather?” I asked Brandon and he nodded, following me curiously. “Gramps,” I said softly, seeing his eyes were closed. They flickered open and he gifted me with a small smile.
“My Joy,” he called and I walked over to him. “It’s always a joy to see you.”
“And you, Gramps.” I sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to touch him as Brandon trailed behind me.
“Who is this?”
“Brandon Hall, sir,” Brandon introduced himself, holding out his hand for Gramps to shake.
“I like him,” Gramps murmured to me. “Firm handshake and he’s got manners.” He winked. “This the one you’re going to marry?”
A blush heated my cheeks, but I gave Gramps a tiny nod, my mind already made up. That is if Brandon didn’t run away screaming when he found out what I could do.
“Always did admire your decisiveness, girl.” Gramps gestured weakly to the calendar on the wall, “Care to wager? Hope is winning by a long shot.”
Brandon glanced over, and I could see when he connected the dots. “Wow, she even has the time,” Brandon commented, picking up the pencil. “That’s confi
dence.”
“Or knowledge,” Gramps suggested, catching us all by surprise. He saw our looks and waved his hand. “When you get to be my age, you learn just how little you actually know about the world. The docs gave me two weeks and here I am, still kicking. Maybe Hope knows something they don’t.”
Brandon studied the calendar and I realized Gramps had less than a week left. I pressed my fingers to my mouth, torn between the grief I felt at losing him and the relief he’d feel upon his death. “Honestly, sir, I’d rather not,” Brandon said, setting the pencil back down as he gestured to the medal displayed on the nightstand. “Instead, would you tell me how you got that Purple Heart?”
Gramps laughed, the sound cutting off as he started to cough. He took a sip of water and then leaned back. “Son, that’s not mine. It belonged to my wife, Anna. Now, let me tell you, that was a woman.”
We listened as Gramps told the story of how he’d met Anna while they served in the Vietnam War, and how she’d saved his life, getting wounded in the process. “She never let me forget it either,” he declared, smiling. “She got a medal and I got her. I’d say I got the better deal.”
“She got you,” I reminded him. “She always said, “She didn’t meet the love of her life only to let him die.” My gaze went to Brandon and I understood my grandmother’s determination to save Gramps all those years ago. I was determined to do the same.
We heard a knock on the front door and Gramps waved us out. “Go, be with your friends and let an old man get his rest.” I patted his leg, careful to make sure there were layers between us.
Houston let Mercy and Amber in and we motioned them toward the kitchen. Mercy nodded to Brandon, holding out his hand as he said, “Brandon, right? Glad to see you alive and well, man.”
Brandon looked puzzled for a minute, shaking Mercy’s hand automatically. “Do I know you?”
“Not exactly,” Mercy hedged, as Amber poked him.
“Well, where does he die?”
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