Ghost Bird: The Academy Omnibus Part 1: Books One - Four

by C. L. Stone

  A tall bottle of whiskey sat next to his legs, a quarter of the liquid drained. He drinks? I thought he hated drinking.

  North started hammering the underside of his truck again, so I stopped trying to tiptoe. The garage was bigger than it looked from the outside. There was a minivan, a large cargo van and an older model sedan in the back that I hadn’t seen him drive yet, all black. The SUV was missing.

  I scooted close to where North’s legs were hanging out. I thought of calling his name, but when he didn’t stop hammering at his truck, I grew frustrated. I could have cut a foot off, he wasn’t paying attention. So much for being an ever vigilant Academy guy.

  I snapped up the bottle of whiskey, examining the black label. My parents didn’t drink. I only recognized the Johnnie Walker label because I’d once seen it in a movie. I sniffed the top, inhaling the strength of the alcohol inside. My nose wrinkled. Pungent. I wasn’t sure why people even started drinking.

  North stopped hammering. A grease covered hand appeared, reaching blindly for the bottle that wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

  I put the bottle to my lips. I wanted to know what he was doing to himself. I let the liquid fill my mouth, and swallowed half of it before feeling the burning. I pushed the bottle away, standing there with a mouthful of the rest, wanting to spit it out or maybe even back inside the bottle.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” North thundered at me. He’d rolled out from under the truck and was looking up with his mouth open in disbelief. He dropped whatever part he was holding onto the concrete floor of the garage, it landing with a clatter. “Why the hell are you drinking that? Spit it out.”

  I straightened, looked him square in the eye and forced myself to swallow the liquid I had in my mouth. I cringed after the burn. North was right the first time. What was I doing?

  His eyes widened at me. He scrambled to stand up, lunging at me. “Give me that bottle.”

  I pulled back, holding it behind me and out of reach. “You were drinking it.”

  “No. You don’t get to drink.” He stood in front of me, fists clenched. His dark hair was nearly sticking up on his head. Shadows hovered under his eyes. I doubted he’d slept at all.

  “If you do it, I do it.”

  “No, you don’t,” he glared at me, taking a step forward and holding out a hand. “Give me the bottle, Sang.”

  “No.” I stepped back, holding it back behind myself and turning to block him. “I’ll stop when you do.”

  “I’m not drinking it right now.”

  “You were,” I said.

  He grunted. “I thought you didn’t want to talk anymore.”

  “So you start drinking?” I moved the bottle from my back to look at the liquid sloshing around. “It doesn’t even taste good.”

  He leapt forward, snatching the bottle from me. He reeled his hand back, turning toward the open garage door, and launched it out among the many parts I imagine he’d thrown out in a similar manner. The bottle shattered when it hit the gravel. He turned back to me. “You don’t get to fucking drink.”

  “We were at that party and you didn’t drink. You said the others were stupid for drinking.”

  “I said they became stupid and did stupid things, like shoving us in a closet together.”

  The smile on my lips betrayed me. “As I recall, that particular part wasn’t too bad.”

  His eyes widened. He mumbled. He shoved his fingers through his mess of dark hair. “What do you want, Sang?”

  The question confused me. “I’m ready to talk again,” I said, going with what Mr. Blackbourne had told me about. “I couldn’t finish before, but now I can.”

  “What the fuck does that mean? God damn, I don’t understand you sometimes.”

  “What don’t you understand?” I asked, quieting and genuinely curious.

  His mouth opened, his lips parting wide. “I ... you ... you’re ...” He grunted. “I need you to tell me what’s going on around you. You can’t keep it to yourself.”

  “I do tell you.”

  “You need to trust me, Sang.”

  “I do trust you.”

  “No,” he barked. He pointed at me. “No. Not believing I won’t hurt you isn’t the same as trusting me. It was a God damn emergency signal. What part of emergency did you think meant it was acceptable to not tell us?”

  “It could have meant they were just lost and needed help finding their way back. We didn’t know at the time. It could have been anything.”

  “It meant he was waist deep in shit and you fell in after him. And when we finally pull your ass out and bring you back to life, you’re telling me you think you’re stupid.”

  “No, I said you thought I was too stupid and helpless to be useful.”

  “Well, it is stupid not to tell us what’s going on, especially important things.”

  “How am I supposed to know, North?” I said, my voice rising an octave higher, feeling the strain at the last word. I waved a hand in the air. “How am I supposed to know every little thing to tell you?”

  He held his hands out, palms up. “Tell me everything, Sang. I’ll tell you what’s not important. I won’t care if it isn’t important. Just start talking.”

  "I do talk to you. I tell you about the dreams.”

  His voice rose. "It’s also all the stuff you don’t tell me. You can't even tell me to come over when you want me to."

  My mouth moved, but I was unsure how to respond.

  "Admit it. You hesitated. You hesitate every time. Even when I tell you I can come for you."

  I wanted to ask him which time, but it was every time, wasn't it? When I had a dream, he asked if he should come over and I said no. "I didn't want you to come when it was so early."

  "I don't give a fuck what time it is, Baby," he said. "I don't care if you're bored or scared or making dinner. Call me. Tell me when Luke is being too annoying. Tell me when Rocky's staring at you in the hallway--"

  “You’d have to follow me around all day if I have to tell you all of that.”

  “Don’t make me start!”

  I grunted, a low sound at first that rose in my throat. “North!” I called. “You … I …” I wanted to yell some more, but my voice wasn’t going to let me. When I tried, my throat felt like it was closing in. I coughed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t scream.”

  He flinched. “What?”

  “I can’t scream. I tried. Mr. Blackbourne tested my voice. Something’s wrong with it.”

  North’s eyes zeroed in on my face. “Try it.”

  I rolled my eyes. He didn’t trust me to believe me? I opened my mouth, starting at a normal pitch, and raising the volume. By the time I tried yelling at his level, my voice was done. I swallowed hard.

  His eyes widened. “You can’t even talk loud.”

  “I can’t match your volume,” I said. “Not even close.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m broken. My mother broke me.”

  A low growl rolled out from North. “That woman isn’t your mother.”

  It was my turn to flinch. “I’m still…”

  “And you’re not broken.” He stepped forward. “You’re … you …”

  “What else do you want to know?”

  He glared at me. He mumbled again, formulating half words. He grunted. “I want to know ... if you still like me.”

  “Yes,” I said, not allowing myself to hesitate. “Do you still like me?”

  “Yes,” he said. His shoulders relaxed. This time when he lifted his hands, palms open, he motioned with them. “Come here.”

  I closed the distance between us, glad this part was over. When I got close, he threw his arms around me, pulling me into his body. My arms went around his neck. My fingers dug into his skin as if afraid he didn’t mean it at all.

  He sank until he was kneeling on the concrete, dragging me down with him. He held me in his lap, so tight, it was difficult to breathe. His fin
gers found my scalp, weaving into my hair to clutch and hold my head close to his chest. He buried his nose in my hair. “Baby, god ... Baby, don’t do that to me. That’s the second time you’ve stopped breathing on me.”

  “I didn’t mean to,” I murmured against his chest. “He was falling in. I was going to lose him.”

  “I almost lost you,” he croaked out. He dipped his head closer, until his lips met with the top of my head. “I already can’t sleep ... I can’t ... Not anymore.”

  “Why can’t you sleep?”

  “I can’t stop watching you.”

  I blinked against his chest, squeezing my arms around his neck. “You watch me?”

  “When you sleep,” he said. He flattened his cheek against my forehead. “I watch you breathing. Unless you’re next to me where I can feel you, I end up awake all night watching, just to make sure. ”

  No wonder he’d been so grumpy, before and after the party. “North,” I said, sighing and pulling back until I could look at his deep dark eyes. “You can’t do that.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to start watching you like that. Sometimes I don’t watch. Sometimes I just turn the device in your phone on so I can hear you breathing. I know ...”

  “No, not about watching me. I mean sleeping. You have to sleep.”

  He blinked at me. “You’re not mad?”

  “I’m mad that you’re not sleeping like you’re supposed to. Do you need me to sleep here?” I asked.

  He huffed. He pulled me in close again, burying his lips against my hair. He pulled back again, picking up my hand and shoved it toward his face to kiss the palm. “Sang Baby, I’ll sleep wherever you tell me to.”

  ~A~

  North flicked his phone on for the hundredth time from inside the darkness of Mr. Blackbourne’s car. Sang was still at his house, asleep in his bed, wearing one of his own black T-shirts. He didn’t think all black really suited her that well, but he didn’t own any pink.

  He had thought of the pink blouse she’d left at the diner the night he watched her swing the hammer that almost weighed more than she did. She’d told him to hang on to the shirt for her and he had. It was tucked away in a corner of his closet. It wouldn’t have done any good, anyway. It wasn’t the type of shirt to sleep in.

  And she’d said she liked wearing his shirt.

  “Any word on McCoy?” North asked, breaking the forty minute silence, hoping to pass the time faster.

  “Unfortunately, no. There’s been no sign of him at his home and he’s not answering calls to his cell. When he woke up and bolted from the school, he went into hiding. Victor has his home under surveillance. We’re monitoring Mr. Hendricks’s phone. There’s been no sign of him.”

  North grunted. He hated that Mr. McCoy was out there somewhere. They’d lied to Sang, and he hated lying to her. They said she was safe and she wasn’t. She had enough nightmares, though. Telling her Mr. McCoy had escaped wasn’t an option for him.

  He smoothed his thumb over his phone, and out of compulsion, pushed the button again, checking on her. There she was, and Luke was there next to her. If he had to leave her alone now, he needed someone else near her. Even then, he monitored her, trying to catch her body shifting as she breathed.

  “Has the doc mentioned what the blood test results were?” North asked, tired of the quiet that seemed to drag out this drive even longer.

  Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “They’ve tested for every known substance. The drug wasn’t Ecstasy. I’m afraid we’d need a direct sample. You probably should have kept the cup.”

  North grumbled. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. She’s not going to another party like that.”

  Mr. Blackbourne frowned. “I don’t entirely disagree with your feelings about those high school parties, but at the same time, she needs to learn to look out for dangers on her own, not just depend on you to think for her. That could have easily been a drink at school, or somewhere else.”

  North flicked the button on the phone again, illuminating his face with her sleeping image. Mr. Blackbourne’s warning didn’t bode well. Despite everything else, they still didn’t know who tried to drug her. He had his suspicions, perhaps Rocky, who seemed interested in getting her to break up with Silas. Luckily, they seemed to have saved her reputation with the football team. Most of the team players believed that North had forced her to kiss him. A lot of them were pissed off at him. He was willing to be the bad guy if it meant Sang wouldn’t have such a hard time at school. If they could get the team to respect her, others might start to back off. Silas had been right. Someone needed to claim her at school, because they were starting to notice.

  He’d been miffed that Silas took the opportunity without telling him first. However, Silas was a good choice. He was already becoming respected, which meant if Sang was dating him, most of the guys were less likely to try something. They wouldn’t want to face off with Silas.

  North suspected, though, if something had to change in the future, he wouldn’t hesitate to claim her next time at school if the opportunity arose. If he claimed her, no one would even get close to her. He’d make sure. Even if he had to take Rocky down himself.

  “What do you keep doing?” Mr. Blackbourne asked. “Is someone up? No one’s on assignment tonight.”

  “Checking in on Sang,” North replied, and he flicked the phone off again.

  “What do you mean? Is she awake? It’s a school night.”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  "Isn't someone with her?"

  "Luke's there."

  “Of course he is ...” Mr. Blackbourne paused. His eyes narrowed on the street in front of them as the pieces clicked together. “You’re watching her sleep?”

  North grunted vaguely. He knew how he would respond.

  “If Luke is there, what are you doing? You can’t do that to her.”

  “She said I could.”

  “What?”

  North tilted his head toward him. “She told me I could watch her sleep.”

  “Did she say that, or you told her you did it and she didn’t protest?”

  North twisted his lips. It had been both, but it bugged him that he was asking. “It’s fine.”

  Mr. Blackbourne shook his head. “You can’t do that, North.”

  “I can if she tells me I can.”

  “She’s not some toy you can play with.”

  “I know she’s not a fucking toy.”

  Mr. Blackbourne pulled onto a dark driveway to an estate house on the southern side of Charleston. He stopped the car short of the wide front steps. The ill-lit front porch, with two dim outdoor lights around the doors, provided the only light. Inside, the whole upstairs was blacked out. The only light inside appeared far away. If it had been any other house, North would have assumed they had the wrong address. But with an Academy residence, anything was possible.

  The moment Mr. Blackbourne stopped the car, North leapt out. He slammed the door closed again.

  Mr. Blackbourne pulled himself out of the car, slamming the door shut in response. “I mean you can’t do things like that to her and expect her to be okay with it. She shouldn’t have to be okay with this. You’ll scare her. You need to back off.”

  “I can’t do that,” North said, staring off at the house. He was looking toward the house, but not really at it.

  “Why not?”

  North heard Mr. Blackbourne asking him, but for a moment, he was tempted to ignore the question; Mr. Blackbourne wouldn’t like his answer.

  He was still distracted, like he’d been for weeks. He was seeing Sang’s face behind his eyes at every turn. He saw those gorgeous eyes and those sweet, delicate lips whenever she wasn't around. Ever since kissing her fingers in the back of Silas’s car. Ever since the first time he held her to his chest the night she had that awful nightmare and she’d cried, afraid he was mad. Ever since the first time she rode on the back of his bike and told him about her wobbly legs.

  Ever since he ca
ught her yanking at that damn curtain in the diner’s kitchen and she fell back into his arms.

  “Because I think I love her,” he said, surprising himself with his frankness. He’d had a couple of girlfriends before, one he dated for several months, but he’d never once said those words. They were special and he’d been positive, for the longest time, he never would. Never until he meant it.

  Mr. Blackbourne’s face twisted with confusion at him. “What do you mean, you love her? Last week you were telling me we should expunge the adoption because you thought she hated you. You wanted her gone.”

  North turned on him, pointing at Mr. Blackbourne from over the car’s roof. “Do you think I’m fucking around?”

  “You tell me, North. You say you think you love her. Last week you thought she hated you. I don't know if I should take you seriously.”

  “I’m not bullshitting here. She’s ... Sang ...”

  “You better not tell her until you know for sure. In fact, I don’t think you should tell her at all. Not now.”

  “Why not? Why can’t I tell her?”

  Mr. Blackbourne’s steel eyes narrowed. “We don’t know what’s going to happen to her yet.”

  “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen,” North bellowed. North couldn’t believe Mr. Blackbourne called him in the middle of the night to disappear on Sang, again, when he thought he finally broke through to her. The only thing that got him moving was that Mr. Blackbourne promised this might be the solution to getting the Academy to fully accept Sang as theirs and not come after her. “We’re going in this stupid place and finding out what we need to know. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just tell them all to fuck off because she wants to stay with us and they can’t do anything about it.”

  “We don’t know if she wants that.”

  “She says she does.”

  Mr. Blackbourne heaved a sigh. “She doesn’t know she has options.”

  North frowned. He hated that part of the Academy. It was never a concern to him before, because his brother and Silas had rooted him to their group, and now he’d never leave. Sang was still vulnerable. They’d saved her, but they were so busy that he barely got any time with her. Half of the time, he ended up yelling at her. It wasn’t the way to win her over so she’d stay forever. “Let’s go inside.”