The Providence Trilogy Bundle: Providence; Requiem; Eden

by McGuire, Jamie

  “Is it about Jared?” he guessed. I nodded and his face twisted into rage. “Did he hurt you?”

  “No!” I shook my head, wiping away more tears. “No, he didn’t do anything to me. He doesn’t . . .” I sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Just tell me.”

  “He doesn’t want me,” I said, my face crumbling around my words.

  Ryan’s expression made it seem as if the sentence I’d put together didn’t compute; as if he couldn’t imagine that being possible. “I’m sure there’s just been some misunderstanding. What makes you think that?”

  I was disgusted at myself for making Ryan feel he needed to reassure me about Jared. I was a terrible person.

  “Nina, tell me.” He spoke in the tone I provoked in people when they’d had their fill of dragging information out of me.

  “I just thought we . . . I thought he . . .” I couldn’t say half of what I wanted, certainly not enough to keep me from sounding like a spoiled child.

  Ryan laughed once, and I looked up at him. “He’s an idiot, Nina.”

  “No, he’s not,” I said, wiping my eyes with my sleeve.

  “If he took you out, spent an entire night with you, and can’t see how incredible you are, he doesn’t deserve for you to be waiting for his call. You’re so much better than that. Anyone who makes you feel like anything less is a fool.”

  “Thank you, but it’s really more complicated than that.”

  Ryan’s face grew serious. “No. No, it’s not. If he doesn’t realize what he has right in front of him, then to hell with him. And I’m not just saying that because I was hoping for something like this.”

  I shot a glare at him and he winked at me. I smiled and sighed, letting my frustration escape with my breath. He leaned over to issue a comforting kiss to the top of my head.

  “Why are you so good to me?” I asked as he handed me a handful of tissues from his bedside table.

  “Because you’re worth it.” He looked at me as if I should know that already, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  “I think that’s been trademarked by L’Oreal,” I said.

  “Oh, I meant ‘Maybe she’s born with it.’”

  “Maybe it’s Maybelline?” I quipped.

  He pointed at me. “You’re good.”

  “I take a licking and keep on ticking.” I smiled, resting my head against my hand.

  He shrugged. “Sometimes you feel like a nut; sometimes you don’t.”

  I giggled again and wiped the residual wetness from my eyes. “You can’t top the coppertop.”

  Ryan sat for a moment, looking stumped, and then an impish grin appeared on his face. “I have good news. I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by switching to GEICO.”

  My eyes narrowed. “Are you in good hands?”

  Ryan intertwined his fingers in mine. “Easy, breezy, beautiful—Covergirl.”

  I bit my lip, not wanting to stop our game. It was such a wonderful distraction.

  “Just do it.” He nudged my arm.

  “Leggo my Eggo,” I countered, playfully pulling my arm back.

  He flexed him arm. “Beef. It’s what’s for dinner.”

  I pointed to his arm and shook my head. “Tastes great, less filling.” I sat up and waited for his riposte.

  “WASSSSSUP?” He leaned over into my face, and I burst out into a roaring laughter. He bellowed out his own, and we covered our mouths to keep the nurses from rushing in to quiet us down.

  “Thank you. I needed that.” I nodded, holding my stomach.

  “You most certainly did,” Ryan agreed.

  ~*~

  The next morning I woke up to the ring of my cell phone. I scrambled to my nightstand, ripped the charger cord from its port, and jerked it to my ear.

  “Hello?” I cringed, waiting for the person at the other end of the line to mention the near maniacal tone in my voice.

  “Hey, Nigh, it’s Ryan. You left your Anatomy book here yesterday. I just wanted to let you know before you got to class.”

  “Oh. Oh! Thanks. I don’t think I’ll need it today; we’re preparing for a lab.” I rubbed my eyes, wondering when I had finally fallen asleep. It didn’t feel as if I’d slept at all.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “Yeah, but that’s okay.” I looked at the clock. “The alarm goes off in ten minutes, anyway.”

  “The nurse said that they may release me today or tomorrow,” he said.

  “Excellent! Let me know when, and I’ll rally the troops to spring you.”

  “Will do,” he chirped, sounding extremely enthusiastic for the early hour.

  Classes dragged, and I had to force myself to finish out the day. By the time I got to my room, exhaustion had set in, and I decided to cook something quick and then take a nap.

  Finishing the mounds of homework scattered on my bed was impossible. I couldn’t concentrate, knowing that every time I turned a page, every time my spoon scraped the bowl, every time I sighed, Jared was listening.

  When that thought crossed my mind, anger pulsed through me. He had told me secrets, which he expected me to keep. He told me that he loved me, made promises, and then he just left.

  “Who does that?” I asked aloud. I shook my head, thinking of the show he’d put on when dropping me off at Andrews. He seemed so terrified of losing me, of my mother talking me into staying away from him. In the end, it was Jared who was evading me.

  I dwelled on that for a moment and wondered what had changed from the time he dropped me off until after I’d returned from the hospital. I had only focused on what I could have done wrong; I hadn’t stopped to think about other possible reasons for Jared to avoid me like the plague. Like my mother.

  My hand flew to my mouth as the revelation sunk in. She had spoken to him. She had told him to stay away from me, and he had listened to her.

  Grabbing my coat and keys, I shot out the door as if my room were on fire. I ran to my car and violated every traffic law between Brown University and my parents’ home. Once I pulled into the drive, my courage had somewhat waivered, but I had to know why Jared had changed his mind. I had to know it wasn’t that I didn’t live up to his expectations.

  I burst into the door, calling for my mother. After the third time that I yelled her name, she came hurrying down the staircase.

  “Nina? What are you carrying on about?” She held onto the banister with one hand and clipped on an earring with another.

  “What did you say to him?” I demanded.

  “What did I say to whom?” A disgusted look immediately clouded her face.

  “Mother, stop it!” I yelled.

  Cynthia raised an eyebrow and enunciated. “You will watch your tone while in my house, young lady.”

  I shook my head and took another step toward her. “What did you say to Jared?”

  Cynthia deliberated for a moment. “I told him what he needed to hear, Nina. Of course you wouldn’t listen, so I had no choice.”

  “Why? Why would you deliberately try to hurt me?”

  Cynthia was stunned by my assumption. “Nina, I’m trying to save you from yourself. If you won’t have the sense to . . . Well, I’m glad that he did.”

  “Mother, I’m begging you. Don’t do this. I have been . . .” I couldn’t finish. I sat on the bottom step and covered my face with my hands.

  Cynthia descended the remaining steps and sat next to me. “I know you think you understand, darling, but you don’t. Whatever you think you know . . . You couldn’t truly grasp what it was that you were choosing. I’m glad that Jared loves you enough to let you go.”

  I glared at her. “Do you even hear yourself? He loves me, Mom. He loves me and you . . .” I shook my head and walked to the door. “Do you even care how I feel?” I asked, standing with my back to her.

  She didn’t answer.

  I returned to my car, choking back a frustrated cry. There was only one way I could talk to him now.

  8. Purgatory

&
nbsp; I searched under the desks, running my fingers along each of the twisted wires underneath. Jared would listen to me whether he liked it or not, and in my determination, I left nothing to chance. I meticulously inspected the edges of the mirror, the back of the microwave, the mini-fridge, under both beds and under the dorm’s standard-issue cord phone.

  An hour had passed, and I’d found nothing. Jared was a professional. Of course I wouldn’t find the mic he’d planted. I tried to recall any spy movies I’d watched when revelation hit. My eyes slowly followed the wall up to the ceiling, and focused on a rectangular vent in the center.

  I rolled Beth’s desk chair directly underneath. There were two screws, and I had no tools. I rushed to the residential advisor’s room and tried to catch my breath while rapping on the door. She opened it with a bored look on her face.

  “Yeah?”

  “Hey, Dara. Listen, I’m having some trouble with the vent in my room.”

  “I’ll call maintenance in the morning,” she deadpanned, closing the door.

  I pushed it open. “I was wondering if you had a screwdriver—one of those cross ones—that I could use.”

  “A Phillips?” she asked, bored with the conversation.

  My eyes lit up. “Yes! Do you have one?”

  “What size do you need?” she asked, turning her back to me.

  “I don’t know.” I peered up at her vent, and she did the same.

  “You need a small one. Here.” She handed me a tiny screwdriver, and I thanked her before rushing back to my room.

  The screwdriver was smaller than I needed, so I had to press on one side to get the screw to rotate at all. Once the first screw became loose enough to use my thumb and finger to make more progress, it didn’t take long for it to drop into my hand. I began working on the other screw, and after two laborious turns my right hand slipped. Trying to catch myself, my palm grated against the edge of the vent, and the ragged edge of metal sliced through my skin.

  I pulled my hand back with a gasp, watching the blood ooze from the cut and drip down my forearm toward my elbow in a thick red line.

  “Ow! Sssshhhhoooot!” I cried, bending at the waist.

  I climbed down to grab a wad of tissue and held it tightly in my hand, unwilling to give up.

  Tissues in hand, I tried to fit the screwdriver into the tiny slot at the best angle possible for traction. When I pressed against the side of the screw, I leaned into the movement, and the wheels of the chair shifted. Before I could right myself, the chair jerked from under me and I tumbled down, smacking my elbow on the floor.

  It took a moment for the pain to register, and once the sharp stabbing sensation shot up my arm, I closed my eyes. “Ow,” I whimpered. Once I could think about something other than the pain, I hobbled back onto the chair.

  Tugging the vent loose, I inched up on my tiptoes to peer inside. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a tiny black object nestled in the decades of dust. I reached inside the vent and pinched the small piece of plastic, tugging on it once before it gave way. I pulled it toward me and brought it into view: Jared’s miniature microphone.

  Overwhelmed by the undeniable truth I held in my hand, I pulled the mic down with me as I slumped to the chair. Jared could hear me and was aware of what I had done. Coupled with the pain in my arm, the fact that he was just on the other side of this device made my eyes well over with tears.

  “Jared?” I said, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I know you can hear me.” I sighed, closing my eyes. “I don’t know what she said to you. I don’t care. I just . . .” I trailed off as my voice broke. “I miss you,” I whispered. “What are you doing? All that talk about growing old together and being honest? Now you’re going to listen to her and walk away?

  “Will you please just . . .” I struggled to form the words. “Will you please just talk to me? Please?”

  I watched my cell phone, praying, willing it to light up and ring. An eternity passed, but it lay on my nightstand, still and dark.

  I wiped the moisture from my eyes, looking up at the wire spiraling down from the ceiling. Anger surged through my veins and I stood up, yanking on the wire over and over until it finally ripped from its source. I noticed the frayed edge of the end of the wire and wiped my face once more, satisfied. It wasn’t fair that he could hear me when I was alone.

  A buzzing noise came from the night table and I stiffened. It buzzed again, and I threw the wire down, nearly tripping over it to reach the phone before I missed the call.

  “Jared?”

  “It’s uh . . . It’s Ryan. Sorry.”

  “No! Don’t be sorry.” I sniffed.

  “Are you okay? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

  “Was there a reason you called?” I wasn’t in the mood to discuss my latest moment of insanity.

  “Yes.” He hesitated. “I’m being released in the morning.”

  “Oh. Oh, yeah, okay. I’ll come in the morning, then. Did you let everyone else know, or should I call them?” I asked, hoping he would catch the meaning.

  “I just started making the calls.”

  He’d called me first. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

  “Nina?”

  “Mmm hmm?” I said, distracted by the wire curled and arched beside my bed.

  “Tell me why you’re upset. Is it Jared?” My silence was all the answer he needed. “I could kill him for doing this to you,” he growled.

  “It’s not his fault, Ryan. I’ve told you it’s complicated.”

  Ryan sighed, accepting my vague reply. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  ~*~

  Friday was easier than I thought it would be, with the six of us choreographing Ryan’s on-the-fly homecoming party. We caravanned to the hospital; balloons and shoe polish decorated our cars. The windows of Josh’s truck vibrated to the beat of “Paradise City” as Tucker wheeled Ryan out of the double doors of the hospital. We all whistled and clapped as Ryan lumbered into Josh’s passenger side.

  “C’mon, Nina,” Ryan smiled, gesturing for me to accompany him. When I scooted in next to him, Ryan weakly lifted his arm to the top of the seat behind me. We giggled and joked all the way to Brown, and the seven of us made our way to Ryan’s room.

  “It looks like a parade threw up in here,” Ryan said, beaming. He hobbled over to his desk chair and fell into it, visibly spent.

  We sat and talked, and then Beth, Chad, and Tucker left for class. Thirty minutes later, Kim and Josh had classes of their own to go to.

  “What did you do to your hand?” Ryan asked, staring at my haphazardly bandaged palm.

  “I sliced it on the air vent in my room.” I shrugged.

  “Ouch. Are you all caught up on your tetanus shots?”

  I nodded. “I’ll come by later, okay? We have a lot of work to do.”

  “You have class?” he asked, disappointed.

  “I’ve had class for the last two hours, Ryan.” I grinned.

  “Thanks for today. Maybe we could do this every month.”

  “Okay, but I’m not volunteering to get stabbed next time—or ever.” I hugged him, and an awkward pause followed when I pulled away. “You take it easy. I’ll come over later and we can study.”

  Ryan watched me with a soft expression as I walked to the door. “See you later, Nigh.”

  I pulled his door closed and let out a gust of air. I couldn’t be sure if it was guilt or the look in Ryan’s eyes after I’d hugged him, but everything felt different when we were alone. I forgot about angels and demons and feeling unwanted. In Ryan’s presence, life was normal.

  Soon after class began, my thoughts zeroed in on Jared. I clinched my eyes shut when I thought about the night before. I had probably relieved him of any regret he might have felt after my antics. The professor’s voice blurred into the background, and I took shallow breaths to keep the tears from forming. It was embarrassing enough that everyone peered over their shoulders at me every day as if I’d gone crazy; the last thi
ng I needed was to break down in class.

  In the solitude of my room, I let the tears flow. I was glad that Jared couldn’t hear me. I had become a blubbering, pathetic mess. My eyes drifted to the vent to see that the cover was securely fastened to the ceiling. My eyebrows pressed inward. I was too exhausted the night before to replace it.

  Scrambling to the floor, I lifted my comforter to peer under the bed where I had hidden the frayed carcass of the wire. I gritted my teeth, seeing that the only thing under my bed was a lone sock surrounded by a herd of dust bunnies.

  Jared or Claire had come into my room while I was gone and replaced the mic. I looked to the ceiling, balling my hands into fists at my sides. “Stay out of my room!”

  The screwdriver was missing from the top drawer of my dresser as well. I had left it there for safe keeping until I could replace the vent cover. I burst into the hallway, letting the door crack against the wall. Anger fueled my march to the RA’s room and I pounded on her door.

  She opened it with the same impassive look on her face as before. “Yeah?”

  I sighed. “Dara! Oh good, you’re here. Um, I seemed to have lost your screwdriver. Do you think I could borrow another one? And, I need a bigger one this time.”

  “You lost one of my screwdrivers, and you want to borrow another one?”

  “Yes,” I said, more of a question than an answer.

  “Hold on,” she sighed, leaving for a moment. She returned with a larger screwdriver in hand.

  Running back to my room, I pushed Beth’s chair under the vent. The new screwdriver was a better fit, and I had the screws out in record time. I reached up again and stood on my tiptoes, finding the familiar small plastic object without effort. An exact replica of the first mic came down in the first tug.

  I climbed down and pulled on the wire until it quivered with tension. With one swift yank, the wire dislodged from the vent and dropped to the floor. A strange sense of accomplishment came over me; I had perfected the art of ripping out surveillance wires.

  With a smug smile, I looped the thin, mangled wire into a tight circle. “I’m not a zoo animal,” I whispered.

  The door pulsed as someone banged on it from the other side. I twisted the knob, hoping for a scolding from Jared, but instead I found Claire standing in front of me with a murderous expression.