What Tomorrow May Bring

by Tony Bertauski

  “Have you found him?” I ask as Spud Rosenberg enters my living room unannounced, a second man behind him. Although I’m thankful to be out of the clinic, being in the house I share with Blake without him has been excruciatingly painful.

  “I’m afraid I can’t say,” Spud responds. “Our search and rescue operations are confidential. But you should prepare yourself for the worst.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “Are you kidding me? He’s my partner. I need him back and need to know that he’s alive. Why won’t you tell me?”

  “We’re not here to discuss Blake. My colleague, Ethan Darcton, requires a word with you—and I do believe you’ve been wanting a word with him, as well,” Spud says.

  “Ethan Darcton—as in related to Brad Darcton of the Ten? ” I ask, straining my neck to get a look at the guy who’s still obscured by Spud’s large head. My stomach lurches toward my throat as if I’ve just taken a plunge down a roller coaster. I instantly recognize the face. Striking. Magazine cover material. Young twenties. Dark hair. Twinkling sapphire eyes. Stubble from a couple-nights without shaving. And definitely not a ghost. Ethan. How could he show up now after all this time? He just now comes to see me? He walks towards me so I can get a better look, and I can finally confirm he’s as incredible as I remember. He’s a Darcton? The Ten was responsible for that explosion and Mr. Senior Ten’s son was there that night striking up a conversation with me? That can’t be a coincidence. Could hot college dude be a terrorist?

  “Yes, I’m his son. You and I have met previously,” he says it as if I might have forgotten him. Taking my hand in his, he sits down next to me on my couch, close enough that his knee touches mine. My heart races at his contact, but my brain is doing somersaults at the thought that Ethan may have been involved in the Goodington disaster.

  “I’ll leave the two of you to talk.” Spud ignores my icy glare, waving me off and exiting through the front door. My attention returns to the Darcton heir and I find his eyes transfixed on me.

  I sigh deeply and try to find my voice amidst my astonishment. “So, after all this time, you show up. At first I thought I lost my mind. I kept seeing you on Earth, or so I thought. And again at the scale version of the Headquarters meeting with… your father. I heard your voice at the clinic, but you wouldn’t open the door. And then Blake said he’d run into an Intern named Ethan with your description. Why wouldn’t you say something to me and let me know you were alive? Or perhaps you were purposefully avoiding me.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, as if to compose himself before addressing me.

  “I’m so sorry that Blake has gone missing.” Ethan ignores my questions. “He seems like a really nice guy and from what I understand, you two are close.”

  “How did you survive the explosion at the Goodington party? How are you here on Thera? You’re really Brad Darcton’s son?” I ask. To think that I obsessed over every word he spoke to me that night…wondering if he felt even a fraction of the connection I felt…wondering who his girlfriend was…and, ridiculously, wondering if he could forget her and want a forever with me.

  And then the fantasy fizzles. He’s a Darcton. “Why were you even there that night?” Heck, they can Exile me for all I care. “Did you cause the…” Ethan cuts me off as he firmly plants his hand over my lips but shakes his head “no” at my intended question.

  “I know you have a lot of questions. But, let me address one thing at a time. I was at the Goodington party because as part of the interview process, the SCI does a ‘spot check’ on the most promising Recruits to confirm they’re of the right kind of character to represent the Second Chance Institute. The Ten asked me to observe you and your friends. It was during my observation I happened upon an unfortunate incident,” he says, as if reciting a script. “It’s easier to show you. I brought a video that should…shed some light on the events of that night.”

  “Video?” He briskly leaves the couch, takes a memory card from his pocket, and plugs it into the side of my tablet. I follow him. A few moments later, images appear on the monitor, and I take a seat in my desk chair. Ethan is not acting at all like the flirty, sweet guy I remember. In fact, he’s awkward and seems nervous. His hands are shaking. The all business demeanor doesn’t suit him.

  “I apologize in advance for the content,” he warns. “I was directed to show you.”

  “By?” I ask.

  “The Ten,” he responds. “They have…concern about the time you’ve been spending with your former boyfriend, Tristan. Given your importance…as a Recruit…they want you to be fully informed as to his behavior leading up to the accident.” I clench my teeth to keep from correcting him. Accident? Don’t insult me.

  Mr. Darcton the Younger skips forward to the segment I’m to watch. Briella and Tristan fill the screen. They’re sprawled out on a bed, presumably within the former Goodington estate since they’re dressed in Winter Formal attire.

  Bri is speaking. “We need to tell her.”

  “Why now? If you haven’t told her about us after a year, what’s changed to make you want to come clean?” Tristan asks.

  “I love you,” she says. “I always have. Since our first time up at Mammoth, and that was before I stupidly introduced you to Kira and you blew me off for her.”

  “I didn’t blow you off at Mammoth. You were playing head games, and then you blew up at me after I spent the afternoon keeping Kira company in the lodge. I didn’t want to deal with your crap no matter how good of a time we’d had at that party,” he responds. “Besides, you said you were okay about it. That you wanted her to be happy, and I made her happy.”

  “I don’t think either of us have been making her happy lately. She has to know something’s up, and I don’t think she could handle finding out about it from someone else.” She almost looks like she feels guilty.

  Tristan does not look like he feels any remorse. “I thought we’d talked this through at iHop this morning and decided not to tell her. She’ll probably be leaving soon anyway to go do that stupid internship, and then I can use that as an excuse to break up. When she gets back we can tell her we hooked up while she was gone.”

  “No, it’s not enough. You can’t date my best friend while having me on the side. We need to tell her. Tonight,” she insists.

  “That’s crazy. You’re drunk.” He shoves some tongue down her throat.

  “You’re drunk. I’m just enough drunk to give you what you’ve been wanting all night.” She slips off her dress and begins to unbutton his tux shirt.

  “Please turn it off,” I say to the monster I assume filmed it. How could I have been so wrong about Ethan? I’d built a freaking pedestal so high to put him on, so I guess I shouldn’t be shocked to see how far he can fall. At least I’ve kept a perfect record in falling for only schmucks who disappoint.

  “Of course.” He closes out the file and slips the card back in his pocket. He turns to me, putting his hands on my shoulders and whispering in my ear, “I’m so sorry. Know that I had no choice in this matter and disagree with the Ten’s methods.” His touch sends shivers up and down my spine, attraction and repulsion converging.

  I pull back, step away from him, and practically spit out my words. “You followed me? Taped my friends? How did you survive the explosion? Why won’t you answer my questions? Why have you been avoiding me?” I ask, furious at his involvement with the Ten. Furious at the Ten for sending someone to spy on me and for killing my friends.

  “I followed you when you left the party and planned to offer you a ride home. But then the explosion happened and Blake carted you off in his truck,” he explains. “After that, well, I wasn’t purposefully trying to avoid you, I swear.” I look into his eyes for hints of sincerity. He appears to be telling me the truth, but I can’t possibly trust the son of a member of the Ten, no matter how attractive he is or how big of a fantasy I’ve built up in my head about him. His father and the other nine exterminated more than a hundred people to get me here. No good can come from that bloodlin
e.

  I retreat back to the couch, tuck my legs into my chest, and rock back and forth. My entire relationship with Tristan was a lie. And Bri? She loved Tristan the entire time we dated. Slept with him. Even before we’d met and started dating. We’d gone on a big group thing to Mammoth. I got carsick on the way up so she went to the party that night without me and must have hooked up with him. Then the next day, he’d come over to our table—probably to see her—and since I thought he was cute, I nervously monopolized the conversation. And told Bri afterwards I was interested in him. At that point, she decided not to tell me what had happened between them. And then he’d asked me out, and I was dumb enough to accept.

  At some point, though, they’d hooked up again. Or maybe they never stopped. But things shifted. I recognize that now. They both started pulling away. Right around when I told them I planned to take the Test. Tristan distanced himself after that. Started drinking more. When I left iHop the day of the Test, I saw them deep in conversation. Why couldn’t I see it? She thought I was onto them.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  I should get an award for my abject stupidity. And then I come here and get partnered with Blake. Our fake relationship starts to progress to something real, and he tells me he’s falling for me. I still can’t quite forgive him for letting go of that cactus and leaving me to fend for myself in a flash flood. Not to mention risking his own life just to chat with his father. And now he may be dead. Or joined up with the Exilers with no plans to return.

  Blake and I may be the unwilling parents of who knows how many offspring. There’s still that possibility weighing on me. My eggs. His sperm. Future of Thera. Blood of the Originals. Dark and Light reunited. Fantasy or fiction, I do not know. What I do know is that I’m not ready to parent a brood of crossovers—or Daynighters as they’re called. Why do they care so much about having people that can go back and forth? It’s not for Recruits, that’s for sure.

  And if all of that isn’t enough, the incredibly hot, sweet guy who I dreamed about spending my life with turns out to be the son of my worst nightmare. He’s not dead. He’s not with his girlfriend, if she was even real. Instead, he’s Brad Darcton’s son and errand boy for the Ten. His flirting was just another assignment, and my fantasy was just that. A fantasy. That stings most of all.

  My silence and mental breakdown lasts at least twenty minutes. Ethan stays put, silently watching and waiting for me to snap out of it. Finally, I speak.

  “I can’t…I can’t deal with this. Blake’s missing and may be dead. The whole Bri and Tristan thing. You…being here, not at all who I thought you were. I want to go home, Mr. Darcton.” I purposefully emphasize his family name.

  “Please call me Ethan. And, that’s just what we’re going to do. I’m going to take you home for a visit.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Ethan

  “Still moping over the pretty redhead?” The voice startles me from my daydream. I may or may not have been slacking on my job.

  “You scared the crap out of me, Jax. Can’t you ever ring the doorbell or something?” I jump out of my desk chair and turn to him. He’s in a white tank and athletic shorts. Hair’s rumpled and in its usual “needed a haircut a few weeks ago” state. His golden eyes are full of mischief.

  “And ruin the surprise? Never. Let’s go discuss your woes over some basketball,” he says. “I take it the moratorium’s still on.”

  “Yes on the moratorium. No on the basketball. Some of us have to work…harder than others.”

  “Ha. As if, Mr. ‘I’m too in love to have picked up my tablet in the last hour.’ Never fear, love-deprived boy. I doubt you’ll be stonewalled much longer now that Blake’s gone missing.”

  “What? Missing?”

  “Didn’t your daddy tell you. It happened during the flash flood. Blake floated right on out of Garden City, or so it would seem.”

  “I take it you know different?” I ask. With anyone else, I would worry about having this conversation listened to. But Jax has the ability to block any surveillance within a 50 foot radius. One of his many talents. I keep trying to get him to hook me up, but he tells me that although he can work miracles, he can’t (or won’t) work that one. Selfish bastard.

  “When will you get it through your thick skull that I know all?” He gives me a jovial shove. “Blake isn’t good enough for her. He has got a thing for that blonde named Bailey. And, he left Kira to die in the middle of the flood. All to meet up with…drumroll please…the Exilers.” He shows me what’s happening in a manner only Jax can. I can’t believe my eyes. “Blake’s daddy is head hauncho of the Militants. And they are plotting against Garden City’s own and quite dear Grand Council. Blake was sent here to play hero.” His tone is mocking. My parents love Jax and would never guess he isn’t a willing pawn in their Grand Cause. In the same way they don’t realize I’m not quite on their side. Dr. Christo made sure of that.

  I let Jax’s words and the images sink in. Blake’s a traitor? A plant from the Exilers? I knew something seemed off with him. Could Kira be in on it?

  “No, Kira’s not an Exiler plant. Only the boy. Though, he told her, and she hasn’t turned him in. Nor will you. It’s all meant to be played out.”

  “I don’t want her involved,” I say. “She could get hurt.”

  “Relax. I’m watching out for her.” His eyes are aglow. “And quite enjoying it.”

  “No. I don’t want you around her either,” I huff. The last thing I need is more competition. Between Blake, the Exiler and Tristan, the dead boyfriend, the situation is already barely manageable. I doubt Kira would be enough for Jax anyway. He’s even pickier than I am about the female race.

  “Alas, you’ll be with her soon. Don’t blow it. If you do, a real man will have to step in and take charge.” He straightens his shoulders and puffs out his chest. Did I just see him flex his bicep?

  “And who might that real man be, Jax? Surely not you,” I jest.

  “Indeed, indeed. I’m what they model the real men after,” he says with a smirk. “She’s quite unique, you know. More so than the Ten realizes. My dad’s been overseeing her medical treatment, and I’ve been tracking her progress.”

  “Why would your dad be involved in her medical care? Does she have a heart issue?”

  “You’re asking the wrong questions, Ethan. As usual. You’d be best to ask why my father was involved in your treatment. It’s not like there weren’t others brought to Thera to see to your care.” Jax understands that my parents like to take an occasional dip in the Sea of Depravity. But he has never been one to spout the family secrets.

  I’m used to Jax’s lures and refuse to bite. That doesn’t mean I can’t throw out my own barb. “I know plenty about your family’s business too. Did you so quickly forget we did all our schooling together?”

  My family may rule the Second Chancers, but his family is responsible for the Second Chancers being here. On the grand hierarchal pyramid, neither Dr. Christo or Jax ever let me forget that they’ve got the “better view,” a carefully guarded secret that no member of the Ten or Grand Council knows which is why I always wondered why Dr. Christo gifted me a “partial view” to his lifestyle. According to Dr. Christo, I’m well situated to help with his family business and so, like everyone else around me, he has appointed me to assist.

  “Some things can’t be learned. They must be.” He brushes off my dig with ease. “And I think you know better than to threaten me or my father. We’ve always been there for you, and you can’t say that about the others in your life.”

  “Jax, I wasn’t threatening you. I made a vow that I plan to keep. Forgive me for being frustrated. My parents. My Uncle. You and your father. I’m always at someone’s beck and call. I just wanted this one thing—one girl—for myself.”

  He slaps me on the back. “And so you will. The lovely Miss Kira Donovan fell prey to your spell that night and hasn’t forgotten. So relax and enjoy the ride while you can. I’ve got to be off. Duty cal
ls. Keep me posted.”

  He departs in a flash and I return to my desk and work, pondering the gift of hope Jax left me.

  The doorbell rings. Well, at least I know it isn’t Jax.

  I open the door to find a giant and rare smile on my father’s face. “Hello, son. I come bearing excellent news.”

  “And what would that be?” I assume he’s finally here to tell me about Blake’s disappearance nights after Jax filled me in.

  “How’d you like a little vacation to San Diego?” That’s not the news I was looking for. The last thing I want is to be a world away from Kira.

  “Uncle Henry needs me to escort some brainless bimbo to a fundraiser?” I thought Uncle Henry planned to be on the road all summer, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t slip back into town for a weekend to make a few bucks.

  “No fundraisers. I need you to escort one pretty Light Original back home for a visit. The girl’s distraught. Her boy toy disappeared, and she’s not taking it well. And Tristan, the girl’s ex, is trying to dig his claws into her. I want her far away from here for a spell,” he says. I get to take Kira home for an extended vacation? Now that sounds too good to be true.

  “Jax filled me in on Blake’s disappearance. His dad’s her doctor?” I try to get a reaction or a rise out of my father. “Since Blake’s out of the picture, does that mean I have the Ten’s approval to move forward? I get a chance with her?”

  “Jax should spend less time meddling. And yes, our plan can move forward. Though, not without conditions.” Of course. I would expect nothing less, even if it is his plan, not mine.