“I miss you,” Niko says. His voice is rough with emotion, and my eyes fill with fresh tears.
“I miss you, too.”
“I still love you, you know. That day in the diner, I walked to my car and immediately changed my mind. I walked back to talk to you, to tell you that we should work through things together, but you were already gone.”
I was already gone. Dumb luck. I don’t say anything.
Niko continues. “A couple days later I went to talk to you, but your building was destroyed, and one of your neighbors told me they hadn’t seen you since the day of the gas explosion.”
I push a lock of stick-straight brown hair out of my eyes, and smile. I don’t miss the blond curls at all. “Explosion? That was Mindi. I guess the change is different for everyone.”
A long silence on the other end. “Are you coming back?”
“No. I’m done with Pennsylvania. I bought a house out here, on the beach.” When I went to check on my trust fund, it was larger than I’d expected. A ridiculous amount of money was added from my grandmother’s estate when I turned eighteen, plus unrestricted access to what my parents left me. I own the house in West Chester, but I think I want to sell that. I don’t want to be anywhere near Mindi. I have a feeling she’s still in Pennsylvania.
I continue. “I’m going to college in the fall.” I don’t tell him how I hacked into Brighter Day’s and Saint Dymphna’s databases and erased my medical records. My uncanny computer skills have come in handy. Thanks to them, I look like I’ve had a pretty normal life, even graduated high school. “I think I’m going to study to be a psychiatrist,” I joke.
Niko laughs, but the sound is bitter. “That’s great. It looks like everything is working out great for you.”
“It could be better.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I hold my breath. “You could come out here and live with me.”
“And do what?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Manage my investments? Go to school? Get a tan?”
“There’s still a week until graduation.”
“You can come out here afterward.”
I can almost hear his indecision through the line, and I stand to stretch. I pick up my beach towel and begin walking through the sand to the path that will take me home. I think about how much better it would be if Niko were here holding my hand.
“Tell you what,” I say. “I’ll send you a round-trip ticket, open date, open location. If you want to fly out here to be with me, you do that. If not, you can go see Europe or something.” The sentence sticks in my throat, clogged with yearning for him. I swallow past the lump. “I still love you, Niko. I always will. But I’m not perfect. I never will be. My past, no matter what I do, will always be a part of me.”
Niko laughs, and a teasing tone enters his voice. “Are you seeing a shrink?”
I can’t help but smile as I walk up the narrow sandy path. It gives way to the sidewalk quickly enough, and I head toward my house. “Maybe.” I don’t tell him about the woman I see once a week, a middle-aged psychiatrist who specializes in victims of abuse. She helps me work through the memories, which seem so fresh. The first couple of weeks driving out West, I had trouble dealing with them, but now that a few weeks have passed, they’re fading quickly. Getting real professional help is really letting me work through things.
I’ve learned, though, that there are parts of me that I will never be able to share, no matter how I want to. That’s why I don’t open up to her about the Furies; I have no desire to see the inside of another mental institution. Still, our talks help.
I stop on the sidewalk and tilt my face to the sun. My mind is quiet, and even though talking to Niko has set fire once again to the longing that burns in my chest, I’m okay. For the first time in years, I’m actually okay.
I clear my throat. “Think about my offer. You have my new number now, and the ticket’s already in the mail. I love you, and nothing would make me happier than to have you here with me.” I hang up before he answers. There’s nothing left to say. I’ve already had my happy ending, and hoping for anything more seems greedy. We may love each other, but Niko has to come to terms with what I was on his own. When he can do that, we can be together, no matter what the cost.
The choice is his to make. I’ve already made mine.
© Eric Ireland
JUSTINA IRELAND enjoys dark chocolate, dark humor, and is not too proud to admit that she’s still afraid of the dark. She lives with her husband, kid, and dog in Pennsylvania. You can visit her at justinaireland.com.
Jacket design by Lucy Cummins
Jacket photography copyright © 2013 by Michael Frost
Jacket 3D illustration copyright © 2013 by James Chan
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An imprint of Simon & Schuster Children’s Publishing Division
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This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used
fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Justina Ireland
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Book design by Lucy Ruth Cummins
The text for this book is set in Seria.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Ireland, Justina.
Vengeance bound / Justina Ireland. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
Summary: Amelie Ainsworth longs to graduate from high school and live a normal life, but as an abused child she became one of the Furies, driven to mete out justice on the Guilty, and lives on the run from the murders they commit.
ISBN 978-1-4424-4462-1 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-4424-5356-2 (eBook)
[1. Justice—Fiction. 2. Murder—Fiction. 3. Erinyes (Greek mythology)—Fiction. 4. Mythology, Greek—
Fiction. 5. High schools—Fiction. 6. Schools—Fiction. 7. Orphans—Fiction. 8. Mental illness—Fiction.]
I. Title.
PZ7.I6274Ven 2013
[Fic]—dc23
2012006779
Vengeance Bound Page 25