by Nia Shay
"Where is Sara, anyway?"
Cara snorted. "With Mr. Wonderful. Where else?"
"Cara?" Zeph cocked his head at a curious angle.
She gave him a funny look, her eyes too bright. "It's so fucking ironic, isn't it? I thought I was going to lose her to the demon guy, not to the pain-in-the-butt guy from English Lit class."
"Um...." I paused, realizing she was on the verge of tears. "Let's go inside, shall we?"
"You're still allowed in the house?"
I nodded, producing the key from my pocket. "It's still mine until noon tomorrow."
We moved up the porch in a close group, Zeph offering an arm which Cara gratefully latched onto. She didn't say anything more until we'd settled on the new sofa. Both my old sectional and the carpet beneath it had been unsalvageable. I hadn't been sorry to see them replaced.
"J.J.'s not so bad, I guess," Cara went on grudgingly. "Better than Douchebag, anyway."
I patted her on the shoulder. "You don't have to like him."
"That's the hell of it all. I do like him, you know? I don't want to be mad about the whole thing, I just...."
"Feel so alone," Zeph and I chorused.
Cara glanced between us, frowning. "You know, you're right. The talking-in-unison crap is pretty creepy."
I stuck my tongue out at her. "You're just jealous because you finally know someone else who can do it as well as you and Sara."
She scoffed, dropping her gaze. "Yeah, right."
I touched her shoulder again. "Sweetie, this isn't really about J.J., is it?"
She bit her lip and shook her head, the first tears tracking down her cheeks. "She could've died, Jade. And then I'd really be alone. Forever."
"But she didn't. She's fine." Damn it. Those same empty words I'd heard so frequently of late, and here I sat spouting them at her. I was working on a way to explain that Sara had been relatively safe with Brax when Cara began to cry in earnest. At that, I gave up and just hugged her, letting her tears soak into my sleeve. How could I not have noticed sooner how deeply the prospect of losing her sister had affected her?
The cushions dipped as Zeph closed in on Cara's other side, offering his support as well. "Your sister loves you, Cara."
"I know she does, damn it." She gasped a laugh between sobs. "And here I am freaking out because she doesn't want to watch B-grade movies with me after midnight anymore. How pathetic is that?"
"It isn't," I said. "Not at all. You've been putting on a brave face for her, haven't you?"
Her how-stupid-are-you look was still strangely effective despite the puffy eyes and streaking makeup. "She's the one who got kidnapped, not me."
And she'd come through it surprisingly well, too. Surely the rush of new love had helped, but Miss Sara had blossomed in the wake of tragedy. She'd become as talkative as Cara had always been, though thankfully not nearly as acerbic. Meanwhile, Cara had been gradually withdrawing. I cursed myself again for my inattention.
"So where are you guys going to go?" I countered, hoping the change of subject would help. "I hear the Society's offered to relocate you on their dime."
"Yeah, they did." She sat up and wiped her eyes with a tissue she'd taken from her pocket. "We haven't decided on a school yet. We're going to be hanging around for a few more weeks anyway, so the cops don't get too antsy."
The cops. Shit. "They haven't bothered you again, have they?"
"Not lately. There's a rumor going around now that Kevin overdosed at a rave, and his friends freaked out and buried him in the boonies somewhere."
I had a feeling I knew who'd started that rumor. Still, the police had already questioned the twins three times regarding the disappearance of Douchebag, and I couldn't help but worry about them being blamed. They couldn't exactly tell the whole truth and be believed.
Regardless, the lawyer the Society had hired for them assured us they had nothing to worry about. They'd dispatched agents to "clean up" my house at the same time they'd sent the cavalry to rescue Zeph and I. Only they knew what had really happened to Kevin's remains.
One of those same agents was the soon-to-be new owner of my house. He'd promised me with a wink that he'd take good care of the place--specifically, that he didn't plan to "burn it down or anything." Which gave me the impression that's exactly what he intended to do, thus destroying any trace evidence forever. This New Society, as Zeph had dubbed it, was frighteningly efficient.
In spite of myself, though, I couldn't completely dislike or distrust them. When I'd met Luther--Jordan's superior, the man who'd orchestrated our rescue--he'd been genuinely horrified by our ordeal. So much so that the strength of his emotion had made me nauseous. He'd promptly offered me a ridiculously high dollar amount in reparations. After telling him a few times to shove it, I'd finally told him if he wanted to give me money, he could put me back on the payroll. My unfinished business fit in pretty well with their ongoing investigation, anyway. Thus I was once again an official agent of the Fairlight Society, only now I'd be hunting the people I'd once obeyed.
I looked up as something Cara said caught my ear. I repeated what I thought I'd heard-- "An internship?" At her nod, I added, "Where?"
"With the Society, duh. They made us honorary members, since we can't un-know all of this weird crap. So who knows? Maybe I'll end up being your boss someday."
"That," I said with a shudder, "will be the day I die."
She laughed, finally. We made small talk for a bit longer as we walked the mostly empty rooms, checking for anything that might have escaped packing. A truck would arrive within the hour to haul most of my belongings off to a storage lot. After that I'd be basically be homeless, a woman on a mission. But as long as the man I loved stood at my side, that was fine by me.
We ended up back on the front porch. I gave Cara a big bear hug as we saw her off. "I've been a pretty crappy friend lately, haven't I?" I murmured in her ear. "I'm sorry."
"S'okay. You had a good excuse."
"No, I've pretty much been feeling sorry for myself this whole time." There was the black and white of it.
"Well, I have too," she replied with a sideways smile. "If I'm forgiven, so are you."
"You got it, kiddo." I squeezed her again. "You have our new numbers, right? If you need someone to talk to, you call. Any time, day or night."
"I will." She accepted a hug from Zeph and turned to go. She tossed a casual, "Later, taters," over her shoulder, sounding almost like her old self again.
Zeph's arm crept around my waist as we watched her climb into the Jeep and drive away. "Why didn't you tell her where we're really going?" he asked at length.
"Seriously? Does she look like she needs anything else to worry about right now?" I frowned up at him. "Besides, I don't see it taking very long, and we are planning a little downtime afterward, aren't we? So it's not like I lied or anything."
"I suppose not." He turned us back toward the house, but after a few steps, he paused. "Was the mailbox like that before?"
The flag pointed up. Hm. "No, it wasn't." I approached it hesitantly, as if I expected it to be full of snakes or something. I found only a small white envelope inside. I took it out and ripped it open, withdrawing a card made of thick, fancy paper. The face of it depicted with a Van Gogh print. I flipped it open, finding a few lines scrawled in a heavy, masculine hand. My heart skipped a beat as I read the message.
Thanks for the chaos, dear heart. I couldn't have done it better myself. Time to live my own life at last.
Yours,
Dreamy
P.S. You'll see me again soon.
"Jandra?" Zeph's concern washed over me in a warm wave, chasing away the sudden chill that had gripped me. "What is it?"
"Nothing." I crumpled the card in my fist. "Wrong address."
He nodded, but didn't look terribly reassured. "Are you sure you're all right?"
"Positive." I tossed the wadded paper into the neighbor's bushes. "Come on, let's go wait inside. That damn truck had better get h
ere soon."
"Patience," he admonished, hugging me to his side again.
"I don't want to be patient, baby. I want to be in OKC by sundown." Some rendezvous were best carried out under the cover of darkness.