“I’m sorry. It was stupid and dumb and I’m a total idiot,” I admitted. I apologized from behind him, so I wouldn’t have to look him in the eye.
Connor didn’t reply. His footsteps were loud as he continued to cross the room and stood in front of a painting. Her painting. He lifted a finger and tapped it.
“Emma painted this.”
I opened my mouth but didn’t speak. I was afraid to tell him I knew this already, so I didn’t.
“It’s our house. The one I tried to burn down.” He moved his finger. “This is my room and hers is the one next to it. With the pink curtains.” The painting was good. This was the first time I saw it up close. Emma was talented.
“I tried to burn the whole house down. This painting would have been there. I could’ve destroyed this if I’d been successful.” His hands tightened into fists by his side. “I could have hurt her. What if she’d been there? Or any of them?”
“Connor,” I said, reaching for his arm. “They weren’t there.”
“But they could have been, Jane! It was so stupid. So, so dumb.” My hand slid down his arm, anchoring on his wrist. He looked at me under his lashes, tears brimming at the edges and my heart broke. “You shouldn’t have gone there. Not alone. Not ever.” His voice was deep and rough.
“I’m sorry, but I needed to do something. I can’t sit back anymore when I know Evan’s mom and sisters need help.”
“Not that,” he said, shaking his head and capturing my hand with his. “This guy is dangerous! I understand wanting it to go away—risking it all for the voices and images to stop. Trust me, I know, but what were you trying to accomplish?”
I shuddered, thinking about Ellen’s boyfriend. He was dangerous. “I just wanted to talk to Evan’s mother. To make sure she was okay. I’m trying to do what you told me to! I’m trying to help him and let him go!” I yelled, my wavering voice echoing off the high ceilings. Connor’s eyes grew wide at my outburst, but he reacted by dropping my hand and wrapping his arms around my shoulders.
“I know,” he said, his own voice shaking. His arms tightened and I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his warmth and scent.
“I’m sorry.”
I felt his head nod over mine. “I know.”
Tightening my arms around his waist I wanted to feel him and nothing else. I wanted to forget that scary moment at the house. We were crossing a line here, but I wanted to. I was ready.
After a minute, Connor stepped back and lifted my head up. “No more solo work, okay?”
Yeah, no. That would not happen again. ”I won’t. Trust me.”
With regret, I dropped my arms from around his back and stepped away from his protective arms and warm body.
“How did you find me?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t just huffing his shirt in public. Pretending I didn’t love the weight of his arms around my shoulders. Frightening experiences must make me pathetic.
“Evan.”
“Evan?” I wasn’t sure how I felt about that; my two worlds colliding.
“He found me after I called you. He showed up in my Spanish class and wouldn’t leave until I got a pass and met him outside. That’s one persistent ghost you got there.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. “So he knew where I was?”
“Yeah, he knew. I don’t think he was aware ahead of time, though. He seemed distracted, but yeah, he told me how to find you. He was worried.” He gave me a hard stare. “As he should’ve been.”
I grimaced at the thought of everyone messing up their day to come and save me. I was a bit shocked Evan had gone to him. The idea he could go around me and through Connor was intriguing. What else could he do?
“So you didn’t know when you called me?” I wondered.
“No. I was just worried when you weren’t in class.”
My heart and face warmed. “Did Evan say anything else?”
The corner of his eyes tightened. “No. Not really. He just told me how important it was to get here. That his mother’s boyfriend wasn’t someone to play around with.” His comment made me feel stupid and immature. Going off on my own and having to be saved by the two—apparently more capable—boys around me. What a moron.
“He cares for you. It’s the total opposite of any experience I’ve had. All mine have wanted something specific and harassed me to no end to get it. Evan just wants the best for you,” he said, his tone thoughtful. “He’s very protective of you.”
“Is he still the only ghost you can see right now?” I lowered my voice on the word ‘ghost.’
“Yeah. I think it’s the meds. It seems weird that we can both see him, but maybe Evan’s problem is big enough for the two of us.”
I considered this. It could be true. I hadn’t done well on my own. Either by passively letting Evan exist around me or diving in head deep, endangering myself. I hated to admit it, but I needed help.
“I think I should get home now. It’s getting late.” I knew I should call or text my mom and reached into my bag for my phone.
“Ouch.” I withdrew my hand and inspecting my bruised finger.
“You okay?”
I held it up to show him and ignored the way my stomach tightened when he touched the swollen spot where the skin had been mashed between the metal latch on the fence. “It’s okay, just bruised I think.”
Anger flashed on his face and he opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again abruptly. Instead he wove his fingers through mine carefully and directed me down the stairs and out into the cool afternoon air.
ON THE LESS AGGRESSIVE drive home, we talked about what happened at Evan’s mother’s house. We both agreed to no more Nancy Drew or Hardy Boy moments, especially not without telling the other first.
It was dark when Connor drove his car up to my curb. I knew I was in trouble at home. I’d never gone all afternoon without calling and I’d forgotten back at the museum. Plus, I didn’t want to get into a fight with my mom while Connor stood by. Thanks, but no thanks.
Sure enough, when I looked up to the porch through the car window, my mother had already opened the door and was waiting for me. If looks could kill, I would be dead already.
“You want me to come with you?”
I laughed darkly and shook my head. “No.”
He offered me a sympathetic smile. “Sure?”
“Positive.” I gathered my things and unlatched the door. “See you tomorrow. And thanks.”
He gave me a little wave and waited until I got to the top of the steps before he drove off. There was a loud screech of tires and I looked back to see Connor slam on his breaks in an effort not to hit a truck barreling down the street. Once clear, he pulled out and I turned to face my mother who stood in the open door.
“I’m sorry.” It was all I could offer, and at this point all I knew was that she was mad about me not calling—not about skipping school.
“You’re late. Is your phone working?” she asked, her steel gray eyes were narrowed and tight. I did not want to cross my mother when she was angry.
“Yes. I just…I lost track of time,” I said, feeling safe that she didn’t know about school. It would have been the first thing she said.
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me in response. Crap. She wanted a full confession.
As I dropped my bag and hung up my coat, I concocted a believable story. “Connor asked me to the museum.” I peeled the sticker off my chest as evidence. In an attempt for honesty, I added, “I was excited and forgot everything else.”
The lines on the side of her eyes softened a bit. “Connor, huh?”
I blushed at her tone, and wished I could melt into the floor. “Yeah.”
Her arms were crossed over her chest, but I could see the curiosity brimming under the anger. “Are you two dating? Because if you are, you know the rules—he needs to meet me and Dad.”
“No. It’s not like that.”
Another stare. I groaned at her ability to read me. “It’s not. We�
��re friends and he’s in my art class and he has a pass to the museum. He offered to take me—that’s all.” That wasn’t it by a long shot, but I didn’t know how to define it and I wasn’t about to try.
She studied me for a long moment, I guess trying to decide where to go next. I prayed it wasn’t a repeat of the sex education speech she gave me and Grace when we were ten. PleaseGodno.
My mother touched my hand. “What happened to your finger?”
I allowed her to look at it. “I smashed it. In Connor’s door.” I rolled my eyes playfully. “You saw how beat up that thing is, right?”
Concern flashed on her face. “I don’t want you riding with him if it’s not safe.”
“No, he’s a safe driver.” The lie rolled easily off my lips. Connor was, in fact, a terrifying driver. “It was my fault, being clumsy.”
She seemed satisfied. “We’ll talk about this more later, but right now I need help with dinner.”
Relieved I had not been caught skipping and across town on my own, I agreed and followed her into the kitchen, glad this day was coming to an end.
I MANAGED TO SURVIVE a very awkward and quiet family dinner before I escaped to my room. My parents, not in the mood to be around me either, suggested I go right up and start my homework—they’d do the dishes alone. My father turned on the radio, which is essentially code in our house for, ‘we want to talk about Jane, but don’t want her to hear’. I had no interest in what they had to say under the loud music either, so I ran as fast as I could up to my room and closed the door tight behind me. If I could, I’d possibly stay in here forever.
The instant the door clicked, I heard my name and turned to see Evan in the corner. I walked past him and dropped my stuff on the desk.
“Hey.”
He didn’t reply I glanced at him and saw the anger and hurt visible on his face. I could handle my mom being upset and even Connor, but not this. Not Evan.
“I’m sorry.” I pressed my fingers into my eyes, trying to keep the tears back. I needed to stop crying. I was such a girl.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why’d you do it? I told you he was dangerous.” His voice was clipped and angry.
I sighed and sat in the desk chair. “Because this isn’t right, Evan. You, me…this can’t go on forever. I thought maybe if I found your mom and told you she was okay or helped her or something you could move on.”
We sat in heavy silence. The tension grew between us as time passed. If he wasn’t going to change his position on this, I had nothing else to say. Picking up my book, I flipped it open to my assignment.
Three passages into the Korean War, he broke the silence. “Did you see her?”
“I did.”
“How did she look?” His concern was palpable. “Was she okay?”
“I guess, I mean, nothing was wrong that I could see. He wouldn’t let me talk to her.” I suppressed a shiver at the thought of him. “I tried.”
Something flashed behind Evan’s eyes and he muttered under his breath so low I couldn’t make out the words. “Were the girls there?”
I shook my head. “Not that I could see. But it was a school day.”
“Good. I’m glad they’re still in school. Things can’t be that bad if he’s letting them go.”
He didn’t sound convinced.
I swallowed and tapped my pen on the desk. “Thanks for sending Connor after me.”
He looked surprised. “He told you?”
“Yeah, after I asked how he found me.”
“He’s a good guy, Jane,” he said.
“I know.”
“Can you tell me about him? John? I’ve never met someone so scary before.”
“Okay,” he said, brushing the hair away from his eyes.
Evan sat down on the floor beneath my chair. He crossed his legs and I could see the frayed edges of his jeans, worn down from use in his past life and the smooth soles of his sneakers. “My dad wasn’t a great guy. He pretty much abandoned us, but my memories of him aren’t bad. He just wasn’t cut out to be a dad, I guess. Three kids and a wife weren’t in his plan. My mother didn’t make the best choice in men, but John,” he said, fingering the peeling leather of his shoes, “he was awful.”
He stopped, gaining courage, I suspected, to continue. He grasped my foot and messed with the laces of my shoe, tying and untying them with precision. It was a difficult task for him. When he was ready he said, “He always made me feel uneasy. It was like there was an unspoken competition between us, like he was challenging me for my mother’s affections. I always knew she loved me and my sisters—that was never the issue. The problem was more how she saw herself. She just seemed to feel like she didn’t deserve better, when really, she did.”
I wanted to touch him and make him feel better, but I couldn’t. Our weird, confusing, double standard of contact was annoying, but there was nothing I could do.
“The last time he beat her…it was horrible,” he said, dropping his head even lower. “I took the girls to their room and we turned up their little kid music and read books. We pretended like we couldn’t hear the noises from the other room. I never, ever want to hear something like that again.”
“What happened? What did you do then?” I asked, feeling horrible for even assuming he should or could do something.
He shrugged. “She was alive, but he crossed a line that time. She had bruises everywhere, all over her face and neck. Later, when he was done, I heard him leave.” Evan looked at me, worry lines around his young eyes. “His truck was always so loud, we could actually hear him blocks away. When I came out and found her, she was just in this heap on the floor. Her lip was cut and swelling. The skin around her eyes…” He winced. “She had horrible bruises for weeks. I wanted to take her to the hospital, she could barely stand, but she just wanted to go to bed.”
He tied my shoe in a tight knot. “I didn’t see her the next morning. I was so scared but hoped she was okay and asleep or something. There was no way she could go to work. John never came home that night. His truck was gone when we got up the next day. I got the girls to school and halfway through the school day a social worker showed up and took us to her office downtown. This woman kept saying everything was fine and that we would see our mother soon. And we did. Later that day we met up at the shelter.”
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“Jane,” he said, looking up, “I know I keep telling you this, but it’s not sinking in. John is the most dangerous person you or I have ever met. He is calculating and cold. He hurt her in ways people couldn’t see. But that time he lost it. Completely and totally lost it. He doesn’t care about the police—he ended up coming after us anyway.
“Maybe we can call the police? Or the social worker? What about Ms. Crawford?” I tried.
“No,” he said, sounding older than his years. “You don’t get it. If he thinks you know something or have something on him, he won’t stop until it’s resolved. You need to drop this.”
My stomach churned at the thought. “Okay.”
“Don’t go back there again. Promise me.”
“I won’t.”
The tension from earlier dissipated between us and I went back to my homework, pretending everything was okay. It wasn’t, but we spoke a little about the day and school—he even asked me about Connor and our upcoming ‘date’. We avoided the more loaded topics.
Later, I climbed into bed, turning off the lamp and rolled onto my side, settling into the darkness. Before I drifted off, his hand covered mine. It was cold and smooth.
Out of the dark he asked, “Do you really want me to leave?”
I opened my eyes, but was unable to see anything. “You know that’s not what I want. Not the way you mean it.”
He squeezed my hand. “Later,” he called, the coolness of his presence shifting away from me.
“Later.”
“SO, I HAVE SOME changes in our plans for this weekend,” Ava said, sliding into t
he seat next to me at our lunch table.
I spoke around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “Yeah?”
Ava unloaded her lunch bag, methodically organizing her food in front of her. Julia and I shared an amused look. We found this compulsive side of our friend endearing. “The shelter called and they would rather us come on Sunday instead.” She sounded a little defeated. I understood. Without an excuse there was no reason for our double date.
“Okay, what time on Sunday?” I secretly hoped Connor wouldn’t be able to go. I knew I’d promised to keep him in the loop, but I was uncomfortable taking him there for ulterior motives.
“About noon,” she said, opening her yogurt and rummaging in the lunch bag for a spoon.
“Okay.”
We sat together, amid the buzzing crowds in the cafeteria like we did every day. Julia’s nose was in her phone while I worked peanut butter off the roof of my mouth. Ava had a notebook out and read while licking pink yogurt off her spoon.
“What do you think we should do about Saturday?” she asked, looking up from the paper. She said it nonchalantly but I knew better. “You and Connor, you’re going out anyway, right?” Julia put down her phone, a sudden interest in the conversation.
Not really, I wanted to say, but how did I explain that? I couldn’t. Not now. But Ava had a date with Christian on the line, and I knew she was looking forward to it.
“Let me text Connor and see what he says,” I offered.
I tapped out a message:
Shelter meeting mov’d til Sun.
Thoughts 4 Sat?
I glanced over at his table, where he was surrounded by friends. Allison was there, hovering as usual, and inserting herself in the middle of their group. I fought the coil of jealousy in the pit of my stomach.
From my seat I could see him pull out his phone and check my message—his eyes flicked to mine. His thumbs moved across the keys and in an instant my phone vibrated.
Still on-Pick u up at 5.
I stole another look at him. His lips curved in a smirk, but he kept his eyes on his friends and away from my table. It was his way of giving me space.
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