by Megan Linski
“Your dad didn’t step up to the plate after your mom died?” Cairo’s eyebrows furrow.
“I don’t know anything about my father.” I lean against Cairo again. “I don’t even remember what he looks like. It was a long time ago.”
There’s a silence between us. Then Cairo shatters it.
“You know you have to go back, right? Isolde’s probably worried about you,” Cairo says. My stomach tightens.
“I know. It was a stupid idea, running away.” I sigh. “But I’m standing my ground. I won’t go back to Ann Arbor. I won’t see him again.”
“If you really don’t want to go Isolde won’t make you. That woman’s a force to be reckoned with.” Cairo smiles as he gets to his feet. He holds out a hand to help me up, and I take it.
“We’ll borrow Thames’ truck,” Cairo says. “He won’t mind.”
“He seemed really mad at me.” I drop my head.
“He was just worried. He’s not really that mad,” Cairo says, but I’m not convinced. He smiles as he buttons my jacket… which is actually his jacket. “I see you took my letter man with you.”
“I wanted to have something to remember you by, if I was really leaving,” I say. His fingers are near my own… I play with them. “I didn’t want to forget you.”
Cairo hitches a breath. He bends down and leans in close, so that his face is next to mine. His lips are mere inches away from my own. I can feel his soft breath caress my skin as it passes by. I can practically count his eyelashes as they slowly close. For the first time, I notice the nearly invisible freckles dotting his cheekbones. By instinct, my eyes shut and I wait on a precipice for him to catch me.
My eyes snap open as the porch door slams against the wall. Cairo rears back, as if burned.
“That’s Thames,” Cairo whispers. “We’d better go.”
“Right.” I follow Cairo to the truck outside, using the back door so we can avoid Thames. After such an intimate moment with Cairo, it would feel weird for his brother, and my best friend, to infringe on it.
My mind’s whirling. Was Cairo actually going to kiss me before Thames interrupted? Or am I just imagining things?
The ride back to my house is quiet. Cairo’s right hand is lying uselessly on his lap as he drives. I long to reach out and grab it, test out how he feels, but I’m a coward, so I don’t.
Isolde is waiting in the living room when I get inside. Cairo walked me in, to make sure I don’t leave again or just because it’s a habit of his, I don’t know. Her eyes are red from crying when I shut the door.
“Cassia!” The woman practically tackles me against the wall in a tight hug. “I was worried sick! Where did you go?”
I return the hug awkwardly. Cairo stares at me in an I-told-you-so manner, and I say, “I um… went for a walk.”
“In a blizzard?” she shrieks.
“Cairo found me. It’s all good,” I say. I pull away from the hug, because I don’t like it and it’s too close.
Only Thames and Cairo can touch me like that. No one else.
“Oh, Cairo, thank you.” Isolde seizes Cairo’s face and plants a wet, sloppy kiss upon it.
“It wasn’t anything,” Cairo says. He doesn’t seem bothered by Isolde’s kiss. He nods to me, and turns to leave. “See you Monday, Cassia.”
The door that shuts quietly behind him reminds me I’m all alone in this. I look at Isolde, and say, “I’m sorry for running off like that. It was a childish thing to do.”
“It’s all right, dear.” Isolde squeezes my arm. “We shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that. If you don’t want to testify, you don’t have to. There must be a way to convince the courts otherwise. We’ll figure something out. I promise”
She hugs me again. This time, I don’t pull away. I know Isolde’s heart is in the right place. But the fact of the matter is, I have no choice. More likely than not, I’ll probably have to see Eric again, and I don’t know what’s going to happen to my sanity once I do.
Unlike everyone else, I’m eager to get back to school Monday. Not because I want to be there, but because I want to see Cairo. I didn’t expect to miss him over the weekend as much as I did, and it bothers me. Not seeing him is driving me crazy. I’ve got to talk to him for at least five minutes. Maybe it’ll ward off the irritating longing I feel when he’s not beside me. It’s enough to make a girl go crazy.
What happened on Friday totally uprooted everything. I was feeling secure, like I could move on, until Oltry showed up with her crappy news. The trial won’t be until springtime, so at least I’ve got a few months to prepare myself.
It doesn’t feel like enough time at all, but I could have years and it wouldn’t be enough for me to face Eric again.
It makes me wonder if that’s why I’m reaching out to Cairo now. I need a rock, some sort of stability. I trust him, even though I don’t know his secrets. I feel safe around him. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me, would he?
School is half empty when I walk through the halls, though Thames is leaning against my locker like usual. He doesn’t say anything about what happened over the weekend, thank God, but I can tell that it’s bothering him. He’s more distant than normal.
“Where is everyone?” I ask, looking around.
“There’s a nasty cold virus going around,” Thames says. “Almost everyone in town has it.”
“Is Cairo sick?” I notice he’s not standing with his usual collection of jocks and cheerleader groupies by the water fountain.
“No. He’s got work,” Thames says.
“It was so important that he had to miss school?” I ask.
“They’ve been having some trouble lately. They’re understaffed,” he says.
I smile coyly. “Where’s he at?”
“Up at the mansion,” Thames lets slip. He cringes when he realizes what he’s done. My smile gets bigger, and he says, “Not fair, Cass. We agreed you wouldn’t ask.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I was just curious. Didn’t mean to.”
“Yes you did,” he mumbles. Thames’ scowls as we walk to class. He’s already in a bad mood.
“I didn’t know it was a crime to know where Cairo lives,” I say.
“It’s not, he just doesn’t invite anyone. Shit.” Thames’ smacks himself in the head. “You didn’t ask me if he lived there, did you? Dammit, Cass, why’d you do that?”
“You fell for it.” I snicker.
“This isn’t a game!” Thames halts, and rounds on me. “You have no idea how serious all of this is!”
“I would if you’d just tell me!” I snap, losing my temper myself.
“We agreed weeks ago you wouldn’t ask anymore! Can’t you just let it go?” Thames shakes his head and proceeds to class. I follow without saying a word. He’s thinking I’m giving him the silent treatment, but in all reality I’m busy thinking.
I sit through Chemistry and History with Thames, so he doesn’t suspect anything. But when the bell rings afterwards, instead of going to my next class, I head to the library. I use the town website to look up mansions around Heaven, and find only one. Cross Estate.
“Bingo,” I whisper. I write down the address and tuck it into my pocket before I walk out the front door, to the school parking lot. I have about an hour before Thames figures out I’m missing and comes looking for me, so that means I can’t walk.
“Sorry, buddy,” I whisper as I open the door to Thames’ vehicle. It’s unlocked and the keys are in the ignition, just like always. He doesn’t believe anyone around here has the balls to steal it. He should’ve thought of me and known better.
I snap my seatbelt on and start up the engine. He’s going to be so pissed I took his truck.
Whatever. If he’s anything like Cairo, and I bet he is, he doesn’t really need it to travel anyway.
I don’t have a lot of experience driving in snow, so I’ll just take it easy. I creep the truck around turns at thirty miles per hour until I come to a gated driveway.
I pa
use. Is this really a good idea? I promised the boys I’d stay ignorant for their safety as well as my own.
Doesn’t matter. I have to know.
I park the truck, get out, and climb up on the hood. I jump off the hood and grab the top of the gate, pulling myself upward and over.
The snow on the other side breaks my landing. I hop back up and start down the long pathway.
The driveway is made of bricks, and forms a winding path through the trees. I follow it cautiously, ready to hide if a car comes down. I don’t really know what my plan is. I’m here to see Cairo, but I don’t know if I want to alert him that I’m around. He could get mad that Thames accidentally told me where he lived. If Cairo wasn’t so secretive about everything I’d believe that everyone would know where his house is, being the star quarterback and all, but I doubt he lets anyone come here.
When I near the end of the driveway, I come to a screeching halt. My mouth drops open as I gaze up at the mammoth mansion before me. It stands four stories tall, with towers that shoot upward into the skyline and windows larger than doors. Cairo’s place makes Isolde’s residence seem like a camper. It almost looks more like a castle than a house. His parents must be loaded.
“Okay, now we know Thames definitely didn’t move out over lack of closet space,” I mutter. Whatever happened between him and Cairo must’ve been a big deal for Thames to give all this up and move into his tiny shack in the middle of the woods, though I still don’t see the reasoning. Thames probably could’ve moved his stuff to one side of the house and given Cairo the other, and the two of them would’ve never seen each other. I’m guessing it has at least ten bedrooms, and that’s me just looking from the outside.
I wonder if I should go knock on the door and see if Alfred answers before something else catches my attention. A large flat roof hidden within the trees and behind the mansion catches my attention. I submerge myself in the forest and creep toward it, wondering what I’ll find. Finally, the forest breaks and I’m faced with a large square building, with windows surrounding the outer perimeter near the roof. It’s a giant warehouse. But for what purpose?
It’s probably got something to do with Cairo’s work. Curiosity nags at me. The warehouse is surrounded by a chain link fence, but fences have never stopped me, so I climb it easily and drop down the other side. I tip toe toward the warehouse, but instead of going to the giant sliding door, I circle round the back.
There’s a ladder leading up to one of the windows. That’s pretty damn convenient. Going against my better judgement I climb up it, and peer inside.
I gasp. My breath fogs up the window as I witness the scene below. Dozens of people in the warehouse are fighting each other on thick gym mats, wrestling each other to the ground or dueling with knives. A few of them box with punching bags, while others stab dummies repetitively with swords.
On the other side of the warehouse… no, not a warehouse, a compound… people boxed into shooting ranges fire off guns and shoot bows. The areas must be soundproofed, because you can’t hear the guns when they go off. They go in cycles, spending a few minutes or so at one station before going on to the next.
They’re training. But for what?
It’s got to be some secret government facility. Is the army training mutants or something here? Is that what Cairo is?
Cairo isn’t here. He must be out in the field, looking for something. But what could Cairo be looking for in the middle of the north 49th parallel? We’re only 1,300 or so miles from the Arctic Circle. Nothing lives up here.
This is way too weird. I’ve got to get out of here. I go to leave, but my foot slips and I have to scrabble to get a good hold on the ladder. My hand, flailing for a grip, slams against the thin window.
Several heads look up when my hand hits. A collection of them notice me staring at them from the outside.
I duck down to hide, but it’s too late. I’ve been caught.
I’ve got to get out of here.
I quickly slide down the ladder and make a run for it. I hear the door of the compound open, and voices as a group of people head out. Their boots crunch on the snow.
“This way!” one of them cries. I pick up the pace, running as fast as my legs can take me.
The snow is leaving tracks behind me, to show them where I’ve gone. I can’t outrun these guys, but there’s no way I’m going to let them catch me. I saw what those people could do to a dummy. They’ll carve me up like a fruitcake.
The voices grow closer and closer. I look around for a hiding spot, until I see that there’s nowhere to go. Getting a last second idea, I fling myself off a local ravine and slide down it to an embankment below. I run a couple more yards before I squeeze into a pine tree and hide within its thick branches. The jarring pokes of its needles are nothing compared to the terror that’s pounding inside my chest.
Snow skids down beside my feet as the group above pauses at the top of the ravine.
“Where did she go?” one of them says. “We almost had her.”
“The tracks stop here. It looks like she just flew off,” one of them says. I imagine him stooping down, to investigate.
“Do you think she’s one of us?” a boy asks.
“No. She wouldn’t have run.” Crunching footsteps in the snow. “Come on. Let’s split up. We’ll find her that way.”
My heart leaps into my throat as I wait for one of them to go down the embankment and find me, but no one does. I wait for fifteen minutes, expecting to hear footprints on the snow drifts, but there’s nothing. Only complete silence.
I finally manage to get the courage to come out. I climb back up the embankment and see that all the footprints stop here. The group ran after me, paused, and then appeared to go nowhere. It’s like they vanished. Disappeared. Just like Cairo.
I should’ve listened to Thames. I have no business messing around with this stuff. I just can’t keep myself away.
I’m getting a headache. At first I think it’s just a fluke, until I notice how achy and sore my body’s become.
“Great,” I say, only to find that my throat has gone scratchy and raw. I’ve got that virus Thames was talking about earlier. Just what I need.
My phone rings. Not in the mood, I check my phone, then answer it.
“Thanks for stealing my truck, asshole.” It’s Thames.
“Sorry.” I cough, then wipe my nose. It’s snotty, which is gross. “You know I had to.”
“You sound like you’re getting a cold.”
“Yeah,” I say. Already, I can feel my nose stuffing up. “Can you come pick me up?”
“I’m getting my truck. Someone else is already on that,” Thames says. He sounds absolutely gleeful. “Have fun.”
He hangs up. “Have fun…” I say, confused. There’s a crunching sound behind me. I turn around. Towering over me is Cairo.
I yelp, and drop my phone. Cairo stoops down and picks it up for me, though he’s scowling. He’s definitely not happy.
“What are you doing out here?” his voice is low and thick.
“You came out of nowhere!” I say. “Give a girl a heart attack, will you?”
This launches me into a coughing fit. Cairo walks forward, takes off his glove and puts a hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up, Cassia.”
“Stay away. I don’t want to get you sick.” I sniff rather unattractively.
“You aren’t going to get me sick.” Cairo notices I’m swaying on the spot. Without asking, again, he bends down and picks me up.
“Where are we going?” I don’t even have the energy to object.
“My house,” he says. “You can stay there until Isolde picks you up. I’ll tell her I took you home after I saw you were getting sick, so she doesn’t know you skipped.”
“Thank you.” I lean my head against his chest. He doesn’t reply.
Cairo’s giant mansion comes into view. He puts me down on the front steps, and opens the door. Inside are marble floors, and a crystal chandelier that gleams in
the light of the two-story window. My god, it looks like Pottery Barn went wild in here. They most definitely have a butler. Cairo takes my hand and leads me to a large living room, with a TV that’s probably bigger than the screen at the movie theater. I sit down on the massive couch. Cairo begins covering me up with a multitude of blankets, expensive ones like silk and cashmere.
He leaves for a minute, then comes back with a mug of hot tea and a couple pills. I take them, noticing the tea has been mixed with honey. He turns on the TV and asks, “What do you like?”
“I don’t know.” You can barely understand me with how congested I’ve become. This cold really came out of nowhere. “I don’t watch much.”
“Here.” Cairo settles on a nature show, which is fine. “You allergic to anything?”
“No. Why?” I look up.
“I’m going to make you some soup,” he says. “It always helps when you’re sick.”
“You don’t have to,” I object.
“My mom’s a doctor. If there’s anything I know how to make, it’s chicken noodle soup.” He puts his hands on his hips firmly, like he means it.
A man who takes care of you when you’re sick and cooks? I’ve run straight into a romance novel. “No, I’m not allergic to anything,” I say. “Knock yourself out.”
He leaves. I try to pay attention to the show, but I’m more distracted by the way the house is decorated. Every piece of furniture is gorgeous, priceless. They’ve got to have servants. There’s just no way.
Forty minutes later Cairo comes back with a bowl of homemade chicken noodle. It’s thick, full of carrots, celery, and bits of chicken mixed together in a flavorful broth.
“Good?” he asks when I take a bite. I nod, and devour the rest of the soup. I sit back, looking around for something to blow my nose with, but Cairo’s already handing me a box of tissues.