Run to You Part Six: Sixth Sense

by Clara Kensie

  “We’re leaving,” Logan said.

  “You don’t have to leave,” I said. “Dennis and Deirdre want you to stay. They’re out buying beds for you right now.”

  “We’re not just leaving this house, Tessa,” he said. “We’re leaving this town.”

  Leaving Lilybrook? “Why would you want to leave?” I said. “There’s people like us here. Psionic people. You don’t have to hide. You don’t have to lie. You can use your real names. You’re safe. For the first time in your lives, you’re safe. Everything is fine now.”

  “Nothing is fine now, Tessa,” Jillian said. Her ballet slipper shot into the air and stuffed itself into a pocket of her bag. “Mom told us to leave, and we don’t want to be anywhere near Mom and Dad anyway. That man, Kellan, is here. And that other guy, the one with the dreadlocks who said we’re infesting his town. And... that boy we hurt is here too. Aaron. I can’t... If I ever see him, I won’t be able to...” She looked at me, and her face crumpled with pain and guilt.

  “We’re not living here,” she said. “We can’t. We need to go somewhere far away, where no one knows who we are. It’s the only way we can get past what happened. The only way we can forget.”

  “You can’t leave. I just got you back.” I crossed my arms and blocked the doorway. “I won’t let you leave.”

  “We’re not leaving you,” Logan said. “We wouldn’t leave you behind.”

  Jillian flicked her fingers at my closet door, and it swung itself open. My jeans floated out. My sneakers. Sweaters from Deirdre that I’d never worn. Hoodies from Tristan that I wore every day. “Tessa, of course you’re coming with us,” she said. “How could you even consider not coming with us?”

  Us. The word hung in the air like a bubble about to burst.

  Us was Tristan and me.

  Tristan came upstairs with a pep in his stride I hadn’t seen since Twelve Lakes. “There you guys are,” he said. He saw the getaway bags and my clothes hovering behind me, and like a rock dropped from a skyscraper, his smile plummeted. “Clockwise? What’s going on?”

  “Jillian and Logan want to leave,” I said. “They want to leave.” It sounded just as foreign and alien the second time I said it. “We are leaving, Tristan,” Logan said. “Please don’t try to stop us. You wouldn’t be able to, anyway.”

  Slowly, so slowly, the color drained from Tristan’s face. “Tessa, you’re not going with them, are you?”

  Jillian gave him a swift nod. “She has to. She belongs with us.”

  No. I belonged with Tristan. We belonged together.

  But I also belonged with Jillian and Logan.

  I had to choose between my boyfriend and my siblings.

  Jillian came over and smoothed my hair. “Tristan’s your boyfriend, Babydoll. I understand that. It was nice of his family to take you in, but we’re together now. You don’t belong here. You belong with Logan and me. We’re your family. We’re your only family.”

  That wasn’t true. I had another family. The Connellys.

  But I still had to choose.

  Jillian and Logan, or Tristan, Dennis, Deirdre and Ember.

  Ember, who had given me a kitten and had lost her band mates because of me, but still remained my friend.

  Deirdre, who had so graciously taken me into her home and her heart and loved me like one of her own, and wanted to do the same for Jillian and Logan.

  Dennis, who had almost died when my parents attacked him, and who had spent eight years trying to rescue my siblings and me.

  Tristan, who had broad shoulders and blue eyes and brown hair that turned gold in the sun. Who was kind and supportive and endlessly patient and ceaselessly devoted. My boyfriend. My hero. My heart.

  How many times had he almost died for me? How much had he given up for me?

  I looked from Tristan, to Logan and Jillian, and back to Tristan.

  There was only one choice to make.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  I chose Jillian and Logan.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  My brother and sister stood by the open front door, getaway bags in hand, as I sat with Tristan on the couch in the family room. He scraped his hand through his hair. “Where are you going to go?” His voice was tight, strained, like it hurt to say every word.

  “We haven’t decided yet.” I’d wrapped myself in the thickest fog possible, but it wasn’t enough to numb my heartache. My lungs were rocks, and I could barely speak. “Maybe back home to Virginia. Maybe we’ll go somewhere south. Jillian likes the warmer states.”

  It took him a long time to speak again. “You said you were never running again.”

  “I’m not running,” I said. “I’m not hiding either. No more aliases. We’re using our real names.” I was wearing a soft white sweater that Deirdre had bought for me, not one of Tristan’s hoodies, and I was leaving my cell phone behind. Not that it would make a difference. If Tristan wanted to find us, he could. He wouldn’t even need the APR’s help. “Please don’t look for us. Not even if you have a warning premonition about me. You’ll be too far to stop anything from happening anyway. It’ll be easier that way.”

  He just shook his head. “Not for me.”

  “We left the money upstairs in the duffle bag,” I said. “We took a little. Just enough to last us a few days. We’ll pay it back as soon as we can. We don’t want any of that money. We want you to return it to the victims.” I swallowed hard. “The victims’ families, anyway.”

  “What will you do for money?”

  “Our mother used to clean motels in exchange for a room. We can do the same thing. I can cook at a diner.” But if I cooked, I’d be around the all those silver sparkling knives. “Or I could be a waitress.”

  His head was down, and he wouldn’t look at me. “You’re making a mistake.”

  “They’re my brother and sister, Tristan. I have to stay with them.” They were Killers’ Spawn, like me. No matter how much Tristan loved me, he never would have blood that burned through his veins like a disease. But maybe, hopefully, once we started a new, normal life somewhere else, the Nightmare Eyes would fade and my blood wouldn’t burn so much.

  Marmalade padded over, then climbed onto my lap and mewed.

  “What about Marmalade?” Tristan asked. “Are you leaving her too?”

  “She’s coming with me.” Ember would have taken good care of her, I knew, but Marmalade was my kitten. She’d already been abandoned by her mother, and I couldn’t abandon her too. And Jillian wanted her. Marmalade soothed her.

  Tristan took Marmalade and stood, pulling me up with him. “Fine. Then I’m coming too. We can take my car. I’ll go pack right now.”

  I wanted him to come with me. I wanted to say yes, come with me, keep your arm around my shoulders and crawl into bed with me and chase my nightmares away and kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.

  Instead, I looked around the cluttered family room, at the art projects and sports trophies and the dozens of family photos on the walls. I had to use all my strength to lift the fog, and I forced myself to watch the visions:

  The Connellys having a Netflix marathon during a blizzard.

  Tristan asking Dennis for advice about college.

  Deirdre giving him a hug for bringing her flowers.

  Ember squealing as Tristan messed up her hair in a display of brotherly affection.

  Aria and Lyric chasing Mac across the room.

  Tristan and the Lab Brats cheering at a Superbowl party.

  Tristan proudly announcing that he’d gotten an internship at the APR, the first step to the career he’s always wanted.

  Tristan kissing Melanie as she looks up at him like he’s her knight in shining armor.

  I couldn’t take that away from him. If he came with me, he’d be giving up everythin
g that made him happy. If he stayed, he’d keep his family. He could become an investigator for the APR. He’d get Melanie back. He could easily slay her dragons, and he would finally feel like a hero again.

  I had to do to him what my mother had done to me: set him free, so he could be happy.

  “You can’t come, Tristan. You need to stay here.”

  He hung his head, and when he spoke, his voice was strangled and aching and raw. “What about us? You and me?”

  My heart echoed in rhythm: Thump. Thump-th-thump.

  But that was the last time. Because there could be no more us. There could be no more you and me.

  My heart was bound in barbed wire and it squeezed, squeezed, squeezed.

  I took his face between my palms. Stroked his stubble. Ran my fingers through his tousled hair. Stared into his blue eyes, imprinting them into my mind, so when I slept, I would dream of them instead of the Nightmare Eyes.

  “I love you, Tristan.” I brought him down and kissed him one last time, his warm lips and soft breath—

  But he pushed away. “No. I won’t just sit here and let us end. We belong together, Tessa. You can leave, but I’m coming with you. Give me five minutes to grab my things. Wait for me. Five minutes.”

  “Tristan...” I started to protest, to argue, to tell him us was over. But the words wouldn’t come.

  I closed my eyes. Took a breath.

  Licked my lips, swallowed.

  But I still couldn’t say it.

  So instead I said, “Okay. Five minutes.”

  He lit up, kissed me hard, then sprinted upstairs.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I grabbed a notepad and pen from the coffee table. I could have written a million words, but I needed only eight.

  I took off my promise ring, placed it on the note, and scooped up Marmalade. Then Jillian, Logan and I slipped out the front door.

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  The white sedan that Jillian and Logan had driven here was purchased with the money our parents had stolen, so we didn’t want it. We drove it to the bus depot on Main Street and left it in the parking lot. Someone, Tristan probably, would find it and turn it in to the APR.

  The Nightmare Eyes hovered over me like a storm cloud as we stood in the shiny Plexiglas bus shelter. Jillian and Logan wanted to leave Lilybrook so we could forget everything, but I could never forget. The scars on my stomach were a permanent reminder of my parents, and I would never allow myself to forget Tristan—I owed him that much.

  Lilybrook was quiet on this cold weekday morning; almost everyone was at home or work or school or yoga class. Very few cars drove down Main Street, and except for a pair of speed walkers in matching Under Armour, there were no pedestrians. The only thing my siblings and I wanted to see coming down the street was the bus. We had a twenty-minute wait, so I kept Marmalade warm inside my jacket.

  A vehicle rolled down the street and pulled into the parking lot, but it was just a Jeep. The door opened, and Cole Gallagher stepped out in his black APR jacket.

  Great. We hadn’t even made it out of town before they sent someone after us.

  Jillian and Logan went rigid out of habit, and I went rigid out of determination. Tristan could beg, Dennis could demand, Deirdre could cry. We were still leaving Lilybrook. Our mother wanted us to leave. Except for the Connellys and a few select others, no one wanted us here. Tristan, eventually, would be happier without me. No matter how much it hurt, no matter how my lungs ached with every breath, no matter how many tears I had to blink away before they fell, leaving was the right thing to do.

  Cole lifted his cell phone to his ear. “I found them, Deirdre. At the bus depot on Main Street. No problem. I’ll tell them.” He snapped the phone shut and pocketed it as he jogged over.

  “You’re not bringing us back to the Connellys’, Cole,” I said.

  “That’s not why—” He flinched. “Wow, you’re upset. Just hit me hard.” He put his hand on his chest and took a shallow breath. “It’s like my lungs are rocks.”

  The fact that Cole felt my anguish made a tear fall, and I swiped it away. “I’ll be fine.”

  Jillian put her arm around me. “She may be upset now, but she understands why we have to leave.”

  “Please tell Deirdre and Dennis that I’m sorry,” I said. God, after everything they’d done for me, I hadn’t even left them a note. “And tell them I said thank you. For everything.”

  Cole sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his brows drawn together over his tawny brown eyes. “Tessa, I don’t know how to tell you this...”

  “What is it?” Something was wrong. He looked too distraught for something not to be wrong. “Is Tristan okay?”

  “It’s Dennis,” Cole said. “He was still tired from the trip to Star River, and when he and Deirdre got back from buying the beds and learned you were gone, I don’t know, maybe all of it was too much for him....”

  Oh no. “Cole, what happened?” I cried. “What happened to Dennis?”

  “He had a heart attack. It’s bad, Tessa.”

  A heart attack. The fog swooped in and my legs lost their strength and I sank to the bench, and Cole was talking, each word fainter and fainter, disappearing down a tunnel as my periphery narrowed. “Deirdre says if you want to say goodbye, you’d better come now.”

  * * *

  Say goodbye. I needed to say goodbye to Dennis. I’d left without saying goodbye, and now I had to say a real goodbye, a permanent goodbye, and it may be too late.

  “Please,” I begged my brother and sister. “Please let me say goodbye to him.”

  Perhaps out of respect for Dennis, or maybe because of the rasping sob that pushed its way from my throat, Jillian and Logan nodded grimly. They followed me as I stumbled through the fog, following Cole to his Jeep. They climbed into the back, and I held a squirming Marmalade against my chest and buckled myself in the passenger seat. “Hurry, Cole. Please.”

  Please don’t let it be too late.

  Cole pulled onto Main Street and sped off. I was going to see Tristan again, less than an hour after I’d left him. I could picture him in the APR’s clinic, sitting at his father’s bedside. Knees wide, head down, occasionally raking his hand through his hair. Devastated about his father. Devastated about me.

  I watched through the fog as Cole turned off Main Street, onto a smaller, woodsy road that wound around Lilybrook Lake. “We should be there in less than ten minutes,” he said.

  My mother had given Dennis his first heart attack, and now I had given him another. He went to Star River to help me. He came back and I’d left, breaking his heart, for real.

  I really was Killers’ Spawn.

  Ten minutes had never seemed so long.

  The Nightmare Eyes burned into me, yet I shivered. They hovered above me, dark as a starless night and black as cavern of coal. I lowered the fog but they wouldn’t go away. All I felt was my tainted blood pulsing through my veins.

  Cole glanced sideways at me, my anguish mirrored on his face, but he didn’t say anything. Agitated, Marmalade squeaked and jumped from my arms into the backseat.

  As Cole raced around the lake, the Nightmare Eyes burned through the fog. Hating me, accusing me. I squeezed my eyes closed, certain that if I looked up, I would see the Nightmare Eyes glowering down at me, full of grief and despair and shame and fury. But behind my closed lids, all I saw were images of all the people my family had hurt. Aaron Jacobs, burned and scarred. The college professor I’d contacted for help back in Twelve Lakes. Gavin, the only boy my sister had ever loved. The waitress at a Georgia truck stop, the one my mother had killed with a heart attack. The politicians and businessmen my parents had blackmailed and killed. Timothy Brunswick and Kip Gallagher. And the loved ones they’d left behind. Melanie. Nathan and Cole. Kellan.

 
Now Dennis was dying, and he would leave behind Deirdre, and Ember, and Tristan.

  So many victims. So much death. So much grief. So much pain.

  It was too much. I pried my lids open again, but it did nothing to relieve the ache.

  Behind me, Jillian and Logan jerked back and forth as we jostled down the poorly paved road.

  Next to me, Cole swerved around a fallen branch. Why were we driving around the lake? The APR was the other way, wasn’t it?

  Above me, the Nightmare Eyes continued to glower and burn, dark as a starless night and black as cavern of coal.

  Black as a cavern of coal.

  Black as a cavern of coal.

  Black as a cavern of...

  Cole.

  No.

  No, no, no, no, no!

  No. Please.

  But yes. My father. Lady Elke. They hadn’t gotten the Nightmare Eyes from me. They’d gotten the Nightmare Eyes from Cole.

  Slowly, I turned to see him watching me, his eyes black, deep, endless, eternal black, and filled with shame and grief and guilt and fury. “The Nightmare Eyes are yours?”

  “Oh, no, Tessa. The Nightmare Eyes have always been yours,” he said. “But I know exactly how you feel, so I took them and projected them into as many people as I could.”

  “Tessa?” Jillian said from the back. “What are Nightmare Eyes?”

  Cole raised a tranq gun, and in the space between heartbeats he fired once at Jillian, once at Logan, and once at me.

  I had just enough time to feel a sharp pinch in my neck and the instant spreading burn, and then the fog closed in, and there was nothing.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Foggy.

  Groggy.

  Muscles deadened.

  Pulled from the car.

  Tossed roughly over a shoulder.

  Heart pounding.

  Breath gone.

  Jillian and Logan. Where were they?

  I put all my strength into lifting my eyelids. Through my eyelashes, I saw something orange dash by—Marmalade? In the distance, through a snarl of leafless trees, I saw a sliver of Lilybrook Lake, its blue water shimmering peacefully in the sun.