Always Us (The Jade Series #8)

by Everhart, Allie

  I flip around and check her progress. “What’s taking so long?”

  “I just started!” She’s so annoyed with me I want to laugh but I try to be serious.

  “I would’ve been done by now.” I give her my cocky smile.

  “There’s no way you would’ve been done by now.”

  “That branch in the middle isn’t fluffed enough.” I point to it.

  “How do you know if it’s fluffed enough?” She actually takes me seriously, so I play along.

  “There needs to be even distribution of the evergreen tips. Some up, some down, and a couple shooting out each side.”

  “Really?” She adjusts the branch, making it just like I instructed. She starts mumbling again. “I don’t know why it matters as long as it fills in the space.”

  I laugh. “I’m kidding, Jade. I made that up.”

  “Garret! I thought you were serious.”

  “I know. It was hilarious. You want some help?’

  “I thought you said you wouldn’t.”

  I hop over the couch and meet her by the tree. “I was joking. Of course I’ll help.”

  She fluffs another branch, shaking her head, smiling. “Why were you teasing me? You know I don’t know anything about Christmas trees.”

  “Because you’re fun to tease. You always believe me when I make shit up.” I glance over and see that she’s doing every branch the way I told her to. “Jade, you don’t have to follow my instructions. I told you I was kidding.”

  She stands back to look at the branches. “I know, but your stupid technique actually works. They look better when I do it that way.”

  “Then you shouldn’t say it’s stupid.” I kiss her. “We need music.” I shut the TV off and put my phone in the speaker dock and turn on some holiday classics. The song about roasting chestnuts on an open fire starts playing. I grab her from behind, hugging her. “How’s that? Feeling Christmasy yet?”

  She flips around. “When did you load Christmas songs on your phone?”

  “I always keep a few on there. I like Christmas music.”

  “I love this song.” She closes her eyes, presses her cheek against my chest, and just listens, smiling contently.

  It may still be November, but I can already tell this is going to be a great Christmas.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  11

  JADE

  I could stay like this for a very long time. Hugging Garret while listening to Christmas music. Last year I was with him at Christmas but that was at his dad’s house. This year we get to have our own Christmas with our very own tree. Well, actually, we’ll be at his dad’s house again on the actual day, but we’ll spend most of December here at home, enjoying our tree and our lights and doing whatever holiday traditions we decide to start.

  The song ends and I pull away. “Let’s keep fluffing so we can do the lights.”

  He doesn’t let me go. “You sure? This is kind of nice.”

  “It’ll be even nicer when the lights are up and we can turn all the other lights off.”

  “True. Okay, you keep working on the branches and I’ll get the lights.”

  Garret rummages through the closet and comes back with extension cords and power cords. He takes the lights out of the boxes and checks that they work, then helps me finish the tree.

  I keep watching him to see if he’s okay because I still find it odd that he’s acting this way when his grandfather’s dying. Is he trying to pretend it isn’t happening? Hide his sadness with holiday fun? Or maybe, like he said, he really isn’t that sad about it. I just find that hard to believe after seeing how upset he was last Fourth of July when his grandfather rejected him. Garret was really hurt by that and I know he was hoping that someday he’d have a relationship with his grandfather again. So did something happen since then to make him not even care that his grandfather is in a coma and going to die soon?

  “You want to put them on or do you want me to?” Garret has the lights stretched out and ready to go.

  “You do it. I’ll hold them for you.”

  He weaves the strands in and out of the branches and when he’s halfway up the tree I say, “Is that a certain technique or are you just making it up as you go?”

  “This is how my mom did it when I was a kid. She said the lights fill the tree better if you go from the inside of the tree to the outside, instead of only going around the outside. And it’s true. You end up with a better looking tree.”

  “Did your dad help with the tree?”

  “He’d take us to the tree farm and chop it down and get it set up in the stand. Then my mom would do the lights and I’d help her with the ornaments. My dad doesn’t like doing that stuff.”

  “Did your grandfather? I mean, was he into Christmas?”

  Garret stops stringing the lights.

  “I’m sorry, Garret. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  He starts weaving lights into another branch. “He’s never been into Christmas. My grandmother isn’t really either. She has her staff decorate the house for her and everything’s very formal. The tree at their house looks just like the one at my dad’s house. White lights and glass ornaments.”

  Garret’s now at the very top of the tree. He tucks the end of the light strand behind a branch and stands back. “Done. Hit the lights and we’ll see how it looks.”

  I turn off the overhead lights.

  Garret puts his foot on the switch that turns on the power strip, but doesn’t turn it on. “You want to do a drumroll like on Christmas Vacation?”

  I laugh. “No, that’s okay. Go ahead.”

  He turns the switch and the room fills with a warm glow. The tree is amazing. Garret’s trick for stringing the lights worked great. Lights sparkle from both the inside and the outside of the tree.

  “That’s the blinking version,” he says. “I could put it on steady if you want.”

  “Leave it on the blinking. I like how it looks all sparkly.”

  He comes over and hugs me, my back against his chest, and we gaze at the lights. The Christmas music is still playing, making the scene even more magical. This night is one of those memories I’ll tuck away and take out again when I want to relive it. Because I’ll definitely want to relive it. It’s perfect.

  “I love you, Garret.” I lean my head back, checking out the top of the tree.

  “I love you, too.” He kisses my forehead.

  And we remain there, listening to the music and watching the twinkling lights. Later, when we go to bed, we leave the tree on so we can see the warm glow of the lights from the bedroom. It’s calming and I fall right to sleep.

  The next day I get up early because I have chem class at eight. I only have two classes on Tuesdays, but they’re spread out in the morning and afternoon, so I end up staying on campus all day, doing homework between classes, either at the library or at the coffee shop.

  Garret usually sleeps in because he doesn’t have class until ten, but today he got up with me. When I get out of the shower, I go in the bedroom and see him checking his phone.

  “Any update?” I ask him. Every morning and all day long, he checks his messages to see if there are any updates about his grandfather.

  “He’s the same. No change.”

  Yesterday, Holton was moved to the clinic, the special medical facility that only rich, important people have access to. Garret said the clinic has several locations but he didn’t tell me which one his grandfather is at, and I didn’t ask.

  Garret’s acting strange about this whole thing and I’ve decided not to force him to talk about it. He’s not ready to. He needs time to work this out in his head. He has a complicated relationship with his grandfather and I think he’s struggling to figure out how he feels right now.

  “Did you hear from your grandmother?” I ask him.

  “No.” He keeps his eyes on his phone. “She has too much going on. She doesn’t have time to call me.”

  I’m dressed now and I go over to the bed and kiss his che
ek. “I have to go.”

  He kisses me back. “Have a good day.” He focuses back on his phone.

  I rub my hand along his scruffy cheek. “Garret, I know I keep asking you this, but are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine.”

  I wait for him to look up, and when he does, he says, “Jade, stop worrying about me. I’m fine. I really am. I know what’s going to happen and I’m prepared for it. It’s okay. He’s old. It’s not like I thought he’d live forever.” He kisses me. “Go to class. I love you.”

  I hug him. “I love you, too.”

  On the drive to campus, my mind is still on Garret. I wish his grandmother would call him back. I don’t know why she’s ignoring him. I know she’s busy with everything going on, but you’d think she could take a minute to call her grandson.

  After class, I go to the library and study for a quiz I have later. During lunch I call Garret but he doesn’t answer. I forgot he has physical therapy at noon. When my afternoon class lets out, I go outside and am surprised to find that it feels like a summer day. It’s way hotter than normal. It’s the perfect weather for laying out on the beach, which is exactly what I’m going to do.

  I go home and change into my bikini and grab my beach towel and suntan lotion and find a spot on the sand. Since moving here, Garret and I haven’t taken full advantage of living on the beach. I never run on it because Garret still thinks it’s too dangerous for me to run alone. And he can’t surf because of his shoulder.

  As I lie on the beach, the warm sun and the sound of the waves make me sleepy and I feel myself drifting off. If I do, Garret will wake me up. He’ll be home from class soon.

  “I finally found you.” I hear a man’s voice and open my eyes to see someone standing above me. I’m looking right in the sun and it’s so bright I can’t see his face.

  “Who are you?” I grab my beach towel and pull it around me, tossing sand everywhere.

  “Don’t you recognize me? We were friends all last semester.” He takes his sunglasses off. “I even drove you home for spring break.”

  “Carson?” I look closer. Holy crap! It is him! What is he doing here?

  “It’s Justin.”

  “What are you talking about?” I stand up, wrapping the towel around me, keeping my eyes on him. “Your name is Carson. Unless Carson has a twin.”

  He smiles. “Carson was a fake name. My real name is Justin.”

  Justin. That’s the name of the guy Sara said was trying to find me. But it wasn’t Justin. It was Carson.

  I stare at him. He looks different. Older. He’s wearing dress pants and a shirt and tie, and his hair is shorter, cut close to his head.

  Why is he here? Why was he trying to find me? And why the hell was he using a fake name?

  “What are you doing here?” I back away from him toward the house.

  “Jade, you don’t have to be scared of me.”

  “I don’t know why you’re here but you need to leave.”

  “I just want to talk.”

  “We have nothing to talk about. Just go, Carson. I mean it.”

  “My name’s Justin.” He motions to the deck behind me. “Why don’t we go sit down? I don’t need to go inside.”

  “Tell me why you’re here.”

  “I need your help.”

  “For what?”

  “Let’s go sit down and I’ll explain.”

  “No. Explain right here. Right now. Why aren’t you at Moorhurst anymore?”

  “Because I’m done with college. I’m 24.”

  “What? So you were just pretending to be a student? Why?”

  “So I could get to know you and some of the other students there.”

  Okay, that’s really strange. Like psycho strange. I shiver as a chill runs down my spine.

  “I can’t help you, Carson. You need to leave.”

  “I heard you married Garret. A little young, aren’t you? And weren’t you two broken up last semester? Or was that all for show?”

  “What are you talking about? You’re not making any sense.” I feel like it’s last semester all over again. Listening to Carson’s conspiracy theories and trying to steer him off track. And just like last semester, his theories aren’t that far off.

  “What’s going on, Jade? You broke up with Garret in March and now you’re married to him? After he slept with all those girls and did drugs and destroyed hotel rooms and cars? Doesn’t seem to add up.”

  “Garret’s changed. He doesn’t do that stuff anymore. And I forgave him, so yeah, we got married.”

  “I’m not stupid. I know something’s going on here.”

  “Garret will be home any second, and if he sees you here it’s not going to be good. He has a gun, so you really should leave.” Now I’m making up lies. That’s just great.

  “Is it the same gun he shot himself with last year? You said that was a shotgun. Are you saying he’s going to show up here with a shotgun? Does he take it to class with him?” He laughs a little.

  “It’s not a shotgun. It’s a handgun and he’s not afraid to use it. So you need to get out of here.”

  His expression turns serious. “What happened to you, Jade? Why are you involved in this? I told you to get out while you still could and now you’re married into his family. Why didn’t you get away from him when I told you to?”

  “Why would I listen to you? You really think I’d believe your crazy conspiracy theories? You’re the only one who believes that stuff. Even your dad thought your theories were crazy.”

  “That wasn’t my dad. And that woman wasn’t my mom.”

  I stare at him, trying to see if maybe this is some kind of joke. But why would he joke about that? He doesn’t look like he’s joking. And this isn’t funny. Just having him here is freaking me out and the things he’s saying are just plain eerie. Why would he say those people weren’t his parents? I met them. They told me stories about his childhood. Is he saying he was adopted? But they’d still be his parents.

  He continues. “The people you met were actors. They’re good at playing parents, don’t you think? Very realistic.”

  More chills run down my spine and I shudder. “Why would you do that? Why would you hire actors to play your parents?”

  “Because I had to get you to believe my story. I never thought you’d actually take me up on my offer to drive you across the country like that. So when you did, I had to come through on my story about living in small-town Illinois and my dad being a doctor and my mom being a nurse.”

  “What about that house? Who did it belong to?”

  “Nobody. It was just a model home that real estate agents show people who are looking to build a house in that neighborhood. They let us rent it for the day. We hung some fake family photos on the wall to make it look like we really lived there.”

  “You’re saying everything you told me was a lie? Even that stuff about your sister dying from cancer?” I’m getting really angry now. He lied to me for months. Made up those stories. Made me feel sorry for him.

  “My sister did die. But not from cancer.” His eyes fix on mine. “She was murdered. She was killed because she knew too much.” He pauses, then says, “She was the reporter, Jade. The reporter who discovered the election fraud in Ohio and Florida. She was killed before she could tell people.”

  “You said the reporter was a guy.”

  “It wasn’t a guy. It was my sister.”

  “You’re lying. You admitted to lying about everything else, so why would I believe this story about your sister?”

  “Because it’s the truth. I wouldn’t lie about that. My sister was everything to me. Our parents died years ago in a car crash. She’s all I had left.”

  “What about your uncle in Chicago? The one you said got you into all this conspiracy stuff?”

  “There was no uncle. I was talking about myself. I’m a reporter in Chicago. Well, I was until I started doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Can we just sit do
wn and talk?”

  I glance back at the deck. Maybe it would be better to be closer to the house. My phone is on the kitchen counter. I could run in and get it if I needed to. Or I could get a knife from the drawer.

  “Fine. We’ll sit on the deck. You first.” I don’t want to walk in front of him, so I let him lead the way. We go up the short set of stairs and sit at the table.

  “I’m listening,” I say. “Start talking.”

  “I know for a fact that election fraud is going on. My sister proved it happened during the presidential election four years ago. She told me all about it, but she didn’t give me her evidence and they took it when they killed her. She said that a powerful secret society is behind the election fraud, along with some people planted inside the government. We just don’t know who those people are. We haven’t been able to identify the members of this secret society, other than Pearce Kensington and his father, Holton, who I know is now in a coma.”

  “Pearce is not a member of a secret society. I promise you, he’s not.”

  Carson watches me as I say it. I swear he’s one of those body language experts that can tell when you’re lying by your eye movements or nose scratching or whatever the signs are that someone is lying.

  “We’ve been watching Pearce and we’re almost certain he’s a member. Now we need to find the others.”

  “Who’s ‘we’?”

  “I work for a very wealthy businessman who ran for president four years ago. Aston Hanniford.”

  “Yes, I know him. He almost won.”

  “He should’ve won. But he didn’t because this secret group rigged the election to make sure their candidate won. Mr. Hanniford is determined to expose what they’re doing and take these people down.”

  I roll my eyes. “Some rich guy is mad that he didn’t win the election so now he’s making up stories that people cheated? Why? Does he think if he gets enough people to believe his made-up story he’ll somehow end up being president someday?”

  “It’s not a made-up story. It’s the truth. And he wants to expose the people who did this. Not only because rigging elections is illegal and wrong, but also because in their efforts to keep it hidden, they hurt innocent people. Like my sister.”