The Siders Box Set

by Leah Clifford

  Finally, Eden grabbed for Jarrod’s arm. “I can’t do it.”

  He nodded and leaned heavy on Eden’s shoulder. As she headed them back toward the apartment, and he couldn’t help but wonder at the trail of blood he left behind, leading directly to their door.

  Chapter 26

  Luke wrapped his arm around Kristen. Their shoulders bumped until their steps evened and they moved down the sidewalk as one. Kristen couldn’t seem to shake her paranoia, the feeling they were being watched, followed. They’d never been in public together, never risked being seen. Or rather, she’d never risked it. Not like this. His hands on her felt treasonous.

  She snuck a glance at Luke from the corner of her eye. He looked confident, carefree. Himself. Fear swelled in her as they walked, knowing at any moment they could be seen by the wrong eyes.

  She wondered what it felt like not to care. Not to depend on others for sanity. To be herself, instead of the caricature she’d created, everything amped up to intimidate. Frighten. Turn away.

  She caught her reflection in the windows they passed. The dress fit perfectly. The deep brown hugged her curves as if it were made for her. Is this who I am? she thought.

  Luke leaned in to her ear. “You haven't passed today.”

  “Oh,” she said, realizing he was right. She wondered how much of her nervousness was Touch building.

  She held out her hand to him. He snagged a finger of her glove, pulling it off and tucking it into his pocket. She kept her hand low and to the side. Her fingers skipped across skin as they walked. Kristen kept her eyes ahead, trying to hold in her sigh with each release.

  “You don't pick your victims?” he asked, seeming amused. He kissed her cheek before she could pull away. “How wicked.”

  “No, that’s not how it is. I don’t want them to be victims.” Don’t forget who you are, a voice whispered in the sound of traffic passing. She hadn’t given it a thought when she’d touched them. Her voice betrayed her confusion. “I’m normally so careful.”

  Luke’s fingers laced tighter with hers. “I don’t judge. No need for guilt.”

  Her eyes were drawn away, to a figure ahead in the crowd. He didn’t seem much older than she was, clean-shaven and smiling, but the words coming out of his mouth didn’t match the tranquility in his face. He ranted, standing on a box, a sandwich board draped over him.

  “What's going on?” she asked Luke.

  He rolled his eyes. “Doomsayer.”

  Kristen picked up a few words of the rant the closer they came. The deepness of the voice drew her in, gravelly and ancient, spouting from the young body.

  “And then all shall perish! And the fires shall consume! Lucifer is battering down your door, people. He is wearing you down! Trying to work his way inside you!”

  Luke let out a laugh.

  The zealot turned to them, his eyes full of fervor, on Kristen. “You doubt this, but it is the truth!” He turned back to the rest of the crowd, the ones still ignoring him, turning their eyes away.

  “Well,” Luke said amiably. “He wasn’t far off this time.” He pulled Kristen suddenly into his arms, staggering them a few steps together. Kristen felt heat rising to her cheeks.

  She shrugged him off, embarrassed by her reaction.

  “Maybe we should go?” she started, but Luke seemed caught up in the scene the doomsayer made.

  “The end times are near!” The man picked up a bell, swinging his arm up and down. The sound grated on her. She moved toward Luke, but the ground seemed to quiver. Was that an earthquake? She glanced around. Everyone else seemed unfazed. She raised her head to the doomsayer. Her jaw dropped.

  Around his head was a thick ceramic crown of thorns, chips the size of bb gun bullet holes marring the surface. His face wobbled in and out of focus as she watched.

  “No,” she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut, the doomsayer’s scream burning into her.

  “Fragile minds are easily broken!”

  She looked up to find he’d zeroed in on her, as if his message was for her alone. Kristen couldn’t tear her attention away. Luke fixed me. I’m not seeing this.

  His eyes rose to the heavens as he touched a finger to the crown. Blood ran down his face in sudden rivulets. “God will help those who…” His shoulders jerked back, his voice shuddering like a skipping record. “Help those who God will help those who…God will help those who help.”

  She was dimly aware of Luke’s hand tightening around hers, his words whispered in her ear. “Downstairs, we just help ourselves.”

  “To what?” she murmured.

  He tilted her back against him, slower this time. His hands wound around her, coursing across her hips, down her thighs, between them under the dress. “To whatever we want.”

  Kristen’s breath caught. She bit her lip, closed her eyes, slowly rocking back into him.

  A scream erupted from around them.

  Her eyes snapped open, flew upward.

  The blood, the crown, the thorns. They were gone. Kristen stared, confused. The man standing on the box was boney and unkempt, a scraggly beard hanging down his chest.

  The doomsayer stabbed a finger at her. “A scarlet letter for whores!” he bellowed. A gob of thick spit hit her cheek.

  Kristen gasped. Luke stepped in front of her, wiping her cheek with his sleeve, his eyes burning maroon.

  “Say the word, and I’ll end him. He’ll never say such things again.” His voice shook with barely contained anger, waiting for a signal from her, a nod, a word, anything, to break loose. She pictured it, Luke tearing him limb from limb, the crowd screaming. Part of her wanted it. So badly wanted it.

  She swallowed, trying to push the images away and shook her head, slowly. “He…he changed. He didn’t look like that before.”

  Luke turned his glare on the man.

  “There’ll be Hell to pay for that when the time comes. Rest assured.” He grabbed her arm. “Come on,” he snarled.

  The doomsayer’s eyes never left Kristen as Luke dragged her off though the crowd. She stumbled along, certain if she looked away the man would shift and she’d miss it.

  When she couldn’t see the doomsayer anymore, she finally forced her eyes forward, miserable. Another episode. Hallucinations. It’s starting again. One morning of sanity, enough time for her to actually believe in the possibility, and already her tenuous hold had slipped away. What if I can’t be fixed anymore? Kristen’s heart sank. She should have known better than to get her hopes up.

  Beside her, Luke’s fury hadn’t dissipated. “The gall of them astounds me.”

  “He couldn’t help it. He’s not well.” She fought for composure, her voice fading to a near whisper. “He’s not well like I’m not well,” she said. “I thought I was better, that you made me better, but I saw—”

  Luke gripped her wrist, yanked her suddenly to face him. “The crown of thorns? The blood?”

  Part of her wanted to weep. “You saw, too?”

  “They’re so dramatic Upstairs,” Luke added with disdain and her relief drained away.

  “He was Bound?”

  “A lower ranking messenger. They can only come here when they’re called.” Luke gripped her arm, stepping them out of the way for the pedestrians streaming past. “What did you do Kristen?” he sneered. “You say your prayers? Beg them to save you from me?”

  He ran his fingers through her hair, a few strands ripping loose when he caught a snarl. She winced. “I was frightened.”

  “And instead of helping, they only played with you, exploited your weaknesses,” Luke ground out.

  He lifted his hand again, but this time his fingers were gentle. He stroked her cheek and then leaned close enough to her lips that her breath caught. “At least now,” he said, “it’s clear who you should fear.”

  Chapter 27

  Eden unlocked the door as quietly as she could. She wanted Jarrod to make it to the bathroom and at least get his nose-bleed to stop before Sullivan saw him. As Eden scoped
out the room, Az’s voice came from the couch.

  “Everything go okay?” Az turned toward them and saw the blood. He jumped up from the couch, instantly on alert.

  Eden pressed a finger to her lips. “Where’s Sullivan?” she whispered.

  He nodded toward the kitchen as Sullivan came into the living room.

  Jarrod’s sigh ended in a gurgle. “It looks way worse than it is,” he said, tilting his head up to pinch the bridge of his nose. The blood that had pooled in his hand rolled down his face, dripping onto the floor. Sullivan froze.

  Eden turned to Az. “Ice? Grab a wet towel, too.” He was to the kitchen before she’d finished talking.

  “My God, what happened?” Sullivan asked, rushing to him.

  He sucked in a bubbly breath. “It’s just a broken nose.”

  Eden almost laughed at the look Sullivan shot him. The girl gave good glare.

  “And a split lip and one hell of a swollen cheek. I can see that. I didn’t ask what it was, I asked how it happened,” Sullivan said. She touched his face gently, wincing when Jarrod hissed.

  Az bumped Eden from behind.

  She grabbed the wet towel from him when Sullivan reached out. Her eyes met Eden’s.

  “I’ve got this,” Sullivan said. “What happened?”

  “You have to stop the bleeding first,” Eden cut in. She held the towel on his nose and clamped Sullivan’s hand down on top of it. “There,” she said. “Tight.”

  Jarrod winced at the pressure. “I made a friend who wanted my wallet. I decided not to be his friend after all,” he deadpanned.

  Sullivan rocked back. “You met Vaughn and got your ass kicked. I hope you at least got in a few punches, because you look like shit.”

  “Don’t be too hard on his ego. It was a setup.” Eden saw Az startle and turned toward him. “We think. Madeline.”

  “Wait,” Az said. “Madeline set up Jarrod to get beat? Why?”

  Eden’s eyes strayed to Sullivan. “Because she wants me to kill Vaughn. And I guess I seem like the vengeful type.” She wondered if it was as obvious as it seemed.

  “Did you?” Az asked.

  The opportunity had been right there to end two problems, kill Vaughn and get Madeline off her back. Eden shook her head. “I can’t do that anymore.”

  She glanced up and Az smiled consolingly.

  A buzzer sounded. They all spun toward the call box beside the door.

  Sullivan’s hand dropped. “It’s not him is it?”

  Without the pressure, a stream of red flowed out of Jarrod’s nose. Sullivan reached for his hand but he pulled away. A hurt expression clouded her eyes as she went back to holding his nose.

  Jarrod caught it. “I’m sorry. I’ve got no gloves on,” he said softly.

  Az pressed the button on the intercom. “No entry without appointment,” he said in a formal voice. They waited through the long pause. “Probably hit the wrong—”

  “I wasn't aware. Please forgive me, but it's an emergency.”

  Eden swore as the voice came through the speaker. “Buzz him in, Az.” He paused for a second, confused by her reaction. “It’s Sebastian. Let him in. Now.”

  “Kristen’s Sebastian?” Az pressed the button again. “Identify yourself.”

  Eden pushed him out of the way and hit the buzzer herself. “He hardly leaves the house. And Madeline said Kristen’s been acting bizarre.”

  A knock sounded on the door. Sebastian had obviously run up the stairs. Something was wrong. Eden prepared herself for the worst and swung it open.

  Sebastian looked much the same as Eden remembered him from the day she’d left Kristen’s, his black hair buzzed short. But usually he carried himself almost like he’d been through boot camp. Now he looked uncertain, his broad shoulders heaving.

  “My apologies for the inconvenience,” Sebastian said, awkwardly formal. Too much time around Kristen had rubbed off on him. Sebastian kept his eyes on her, his jaw set, his body tense.

  He's terrified of me, she realized.

  “I’m sorry to come unannounced. I didn’t have a number and it’s imperative I speak with you.” He took in the scene around him—Jarrod bleeding all over himself, Sullivan doing her best to stop the flow.

  Eden gestured to the couch. “Okay, talk.”

  “In confidence,” Sebastian added.

  “We are in confidence.”

  Sebastian shifted, clearly uncomfortable with the crowd. Eden didn’t care. Everybody present she could trust except Sebastian himself.

  She could see him weighing his need for her help and his desire not to have whatever he’d come to say heard by others. “I'm not sure. I'm not even sure I should have come. She'd be angry if she knew I was here.”

  He finally brought himself to sit on the threadbare couch. “Kristen...she's not been well for a while. She tries to hide it. There was a guy. I only saw him officially twice. Once, the day before you left.” He paused, as if it were a memory he knew neither of them wanted to recall. “And once with you.” He looked up, met her eye. Gabriel, she realized.

  “Go on.”

  His eyes darted around the apartment again, lingering on Az as if sizing him up.

  “There are patterns to her...behavior. She seems like herself for a few weeks and then starts to spend more time in her room. She becomes frustrated, distant, and confused. And soon after, he shows up. And then things go back to normal. For a while anyway.”

  “And he stopped showing up, didn’t he?” When she looked up, Sebastian stared at her with suspicion. Kristen’s formality had worn off on Sebastian; he’d clearly picked up her paranoia, too. “How is she?”

  “She was getting worse.” He paused.

  Eden didn’t miss the wording. “Was getting worse?”

  He nodded once. “Was. Kristen didn’t come home last night. The night before I heard voices coming from her room. I hadn’t even known she was home until she texted me demanding privacy.” He dropped his eyes. “I broke her wishes. I saw someone leaving.”

  “Who did you see, Sebastian? The same guy from before?”

  Sebastian’s hands gripped his knees. “Dark,” he whispered, shuddering. “Strange and dark. I heard his boots on the back stairs when he left, and I looked out the window.”

  Eden stilled. “What did he look like,” she repeated slowly, already knowing what the answer would be.

  “He had curly hair, black leather jacket and carried a case. A guitar case.”

  “Fuck.” Az turned away. He’d clearly come to the same conclusion as she had. Madeline’s hunch had been right.

  Jarrod brushed Sullivan’s wet rag away from his cheek. “Wait, Luke? Luke has Kristen?” The blood he hadn’t managed to lose from his nose and cheek drained out of his face.

  Sebastian’s eyes skirted toward him, back to Eden. “She was there yesterday morning but left early. I haven’t seen nor heard from her since. It’s unusual.”

  “How unusual?” Eden asked, taking the wrapped ice from Az and switching it for the rag with Sullivan.

  Sebastian hesitated. “Unheard of. Even on her worst days we’re in contact at least by text if she doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

  Eden kept her face stoic. “Looks like we’re going to have to go after her.” Madeline might not have wanted to do anything, but if Kristen was sick, she needed help. Eden sat on the couch, opening the laptop on the table, letting it load. She typed in an address and clicked a link.

  “Who is he? Luke?” Sebastian asked.

  “He’s a nightmare,” Eden whispered. The room fell still. She glanced up at Az. “Luke’s playing tonight. At Aerie. It’ll catch him off guard to just show up.”

  Jarrod gulped. “Eden, I…”

  “You’re not going,” Eden said reassuringly. “You’ll stay here and watch over Sullivan.”

  “No.”

  “Jarrod,” Eden snapped. She pointed at Sullivan. “I’m going with my gut, and my gut says you stay here with Sullivan.”

&nb
sp; Jarrod looked pained. Everything in him must have wanted to fight her on it, but his terror at the mention of Luke was enough that she knew she couldn’t put him through that again. Sullivan figured out enough to keep her mouth shut. Jarrod huffed, but didn’t fight, holding the ice on the goose egg rising off his cheek.

  “Thank you,” Sullivan said quietly.

  Eden met her eye. She wasn’t sure what she was being thanked for. Leaving Jarrod out of a fight that was clearly going to be dangerous, maybe even making sure Sullivan wasn’t doing anymore Touch. Either way, Eden gave her a nod. Let Jarrod keep his pride. Keep him safe. God knew Eden wasn’t exactly ecstatic to be facing Luke again.

  Even less about telling Az he wouldn’t be going either.

  Chapter 28

  Jarrod squinted, his black eye puffy enough to be distracting. His cheekbone stung like hell, but he kept still while Sullivan started to clean him up. Eden, Az and Sebastian had gone to check the alley for Vaughn.

  Neither of them spoke about him. Sullivan dipped the washcloth under the running faucet and squeezed it out. She’d gotten half of Jarrod’s face done, was getting ready to start the side with the split across his cheek. His jaw throbbed.

  She stood back, frowning as she gave his face a once over. “God, you’re a mess,” she whispered. Gently, she touched a finger to his chin and then turned his head. “Take off your shirt.”

  He pulled the ruined work uniform over his head, wondered if he’d ever need it again anyway. The undershirt was just as wrecked. He tossed them both into the tub.

  “You should see the other guy,” he tried, but she didn’t seem to find the humor in it.

  “I’m guessing Vaughn started it?”

  Jarrod shrugged.

  “Over me?” she asked quietly. When Jarrod didn’t answer, she ran the washcloth down his hairline, working her way down to his neck. Blood stained his skin in smears. “What’d he tell you?”

  That you need serious help, he wanted to say, that I’m not gonna be able to save you, but shook his head instead. “Doesn’t matter. He was wrong.”