Dream Dancer (Ghosts Beyond the Grove Book 2)
Page 10
I made a bee line straight back to my apartment and called Addie—I needed two things from her. First, I needed a few days off work just in case. Second, I needed her cat-sitting services for the same amount of time. I didn’t stick around town long enough to give her the key in person; I slipped it under the doormat instead. I had no time to waste. I had to get back to Charlotte’s Grove ASAP.
There wasn’t any time for me to pack a bag, either. I grabbed the only two things from the apartment that were a necessity right now. My mind was racing. I finally sent Rachel a one word text.
“Okay.”
Then I hit the interstate as hard as I could. There was no mistaking it—now was definitely the right time for me to go forth.
22. Ignition Switch
That morning started out like any other—I sat motionless in my bed pretending to be so far away from reality that I would never find my way back again. But my mind was restless and wandering forward to what I was going to say to her, what I was going to do to her. And what I was going to do if she didn’t accept my ultimatum. I was tired of burning in hell without her. She was either going to put out the fire or burn by my side.
I told Rachel to have her waiting for me at the top of the hill by our house. It was our favorite place to hang out that first summer we dated. We called it the Hideout and we made so many memories there—talking, kissing, staring out at the stars. Tonight we were going to make one of two new memories there. Either she was going to give in and finally let me have her or….
The top of the hill was a grassy lookout point with a perfect view of the town—especially at night when the lights twinkled like a tiny galaxy. But a few steps down from the summit, that’s where things got tricky. I never let her know how steep it really was because she was afraid of heights. Hell, even I got queasy looking down at what was below us. But I wasn’t going to be nauseous today. No, in fact, I was looking forward to it.
Sure, I was going to be the sweet guy I usually am—at first. Even if she said no, I was going to keep myself under control. I was going to casually take her hand in mine and ask her to go for a walk with me. I was going to lead her out of that field and to the edge to look at the stars with me. Then I was going to put my arms around her tight, kiss her on the forehead, and then hurl us both onto the jagged rocks below.
That’s how I was going to prove my love for her—if that’s what it took. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face as we plummeted into that old mining pit. She was going to be so pleased with me.
But when I got there and saw that it wasn’t her, I panicked. Sure, it looked like her—but I wasn’t going to be fooled by that imposter again. Wave after wave of anxiety rippled through me like burning lava. As she came toward me with open arms, I closed my eyes and slammed the car door shut. I ignored the screams as I slid the key into the ignition and slowly pressed my foot against the gas pedal.
I can’t recall what happened after that. Something flicked the switch in my brain to the off position and everything faded to black.
23. Turning Tides
After months of waiting for even a scrap of new information, I was now on information overload—the tide was finally starting to turn. I had to be in Charlotte’s Grove no later than eleven o’clock and I was already behind schedule from the word go. With closer to an hour and a half to make the two hour drive, I was going to have to drive faster than the posted speed limit. Way faster.
I wasn’t the world’s best driver so I was nervous as hell as I merged into traffic and scooted over into the fast lane. This wasn’t a drive I wanted to make on my own. I wasn’t even a mile down the road when I called on my spectral minion for moral support.
“Clay! Get your ass in this car! I need you—NOW!”
“Oh my God,” were the first words out of his mouth when he appeared in the passenger seat. After he took a quick peek at how far I’d buried the needle on the speedometer, he got a crazy look in his eye and repeated himself. Several times. “Oh my God! What suddenly makes you think you’re Danica Patrick? You definitely have the body for it but, honestly Ruby, you’re a terrible driver!”
I didn’t have time to be flattered or insulted. Instead, I maneuvered around a pesky eighteen wheeler piled high with what had to be twenty foot long logs in the flatbed. I practically had to break the sound barrier to do it but it was worth it. No one who’s ever seen the movie Final Destination Two would stay behind a disaster waiting to happen like that one. No one.
Once I caught my breath and Clay stopped shouting, “Oh my God!” again, the new information I had started spilling out of me. I started with the reason why we were shooting down the interstate like we’d just robbed a bank. Zach. Zach was the only thing in this world worth risking my life for.
“I got a text from Rachel earlier—she and Zach have been working on a plan to bust him out of the looney bin. It’s going down soon. Very soon. He said they’ve been holding him there against his will—that he’s been ‘normal’ for quite a while but they still won’t let him leave. If that’s true, we need to get him out of town immediately. If not, I have a backup plan.”
Which lead me back to the email I received from Roxanne. The new advice from Salma was worth the wait. According to her, moonstones change color when they absorb your aura. That was fascinating enough on its own but the fact that I had somehow channeled Zach’s aura from a distance impressed even Salma. The bond Zach and I shared was a strong one. But whatever had a hold on him was equally powerful and unwilling to let go.
“She suggested that I anoint his half of the stone with the patchouli oil she gave me and then press it to forehead to attempt to cleanse his third eye. If it weren’t for his well-timed escape plan, that of course, wouldn’t have been possible. Serendipity strikes again.”
“Sara who?” Clay asked, then muttered his new phrase one more time as I darted around a string of slow moving vehicles. “Oh my God.”
“Oh my God, Clay, how many times are you going to say oh my, God? If I weren’t so busy trying to not die in a fiery crash, I would have counted the number of times you’ve said that in the last five minutes. I swear it’s been more times than I’ve heard your usual response—scout’s honor. And besides, it’s not like you can die again. I don’t think.”
“Way to reassure me there, Ruby. So seriously, who is Sara Dippity?”
Laughing on the inside, I explained to him what serendipity was. And also synchronicity. Lately, those two words had pushed patience and paradox almost entirely out of my vocabulary. And I certainly wasn’t complaining.
“Wow. You’re right—things really are coming together. All you need is to find Josette and you’re all set.”
“I’ve already found her. Take a look at that envelope you’re sitting on.”
I giggled internally again as he contorted himself to get a better look at it. I kept forgetting that he couldn’t manipulate objects like a living person can. I nearly rear-ended a Toyota while watching him thrust his behind onto the dashboard. Seriously, ghosts were going to be the death of me one way or another, weren’t they?
“So that cop found her for you then? Took him long enough. Cops never had a problem finding me.”
“But that’s just it, Clay. Detective Bailey didn’t find her. I did—by accident. With a little help from serendipity. I got this irresistible urge to take swimming lessons and that’s where I found her.”
So this is the part where my inability to keep a secret for very long came into play. I swore to Gabby that I wouldn’t tell anyone who she really was but I wasn’t going to be able to keep that promise—not entirely anyway. Secrets were caterpillars and I was the cocoon. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop them from writhing around inside of me, trying to emerge. But at least if Clay was the only one I could manage to tell, I would be doing better than I normally did.
“My swim instructor, Gabby, was Josette. She had to enter the witness protection program years ago. She didn’t tell me why and I figured t
hat I wasn’t supposed to ask. But how coincidental is that? I mean, the whole time I was searching for her, she was practically in my back yard. And what made me decide to take swimming lessons in the first place? It’s all mind boggling if you ask me. She told me so much about Mom while I was there—it explains so much about who I am. That envelope contains two letters my mom wrote shortly before she died. One of them is written to me but I haven’t the time to read it yet. I’m kind of scared to.”
Okay, a lot scared. According to both Roxanne and Gabby, Mom was able to predict the future through her dreams. If she knew something bad about my future but couldn’t tell the four year old version of me, would she go so far as to warn me this way? What if I opened that letter and found out the exact day, time, and manner in which I was going to die?
It wasn’t what I typically thought of as time travel but it still fit the abstract definition of it. Knowing something you weren’t supposed to know yet could mess things up severely. For my sake, I didn’t want to read that letter. For Zach’s sake, I knew that I might need to. But I wasn’t going to cross that bridge until I came to it. And I was fully prepared to burn that thing the very second I was on the other side of it.
The last forty five minutes of the drive flew by faster than the boring, snow covered interstate scenery while I told Clay what Gabby had said about that night at the Grand Canyon so many years ago and the full ramifications of what it meant.
“Are you going to tell your dad?” Clay asked just as I whipped us onto the exit ramp.
Holy. Crap. I was so wrapped up in everything else that that particular thought never entered my mind. According to the clock in the car, I only had seven minutes to race across town to the Hideout. Zach first, Dad later. Much later and only after a serious conversation with Shelly about what I should do.
I wound my way through town as fast as I could—including running what was definitely a red light near the library. There wasn’t any oncoming traffic and no police cars in sight otherwise I wouldn’t have done it. But as the minutes ticked down, I knew I needed to shave off every possible second just in case the police were busy hunting down my now-fugitive boyfriend. As long as I could get to him first with the moonstone, things would be okay. All I needed to do was keep him calm while I hunted down the last few answers that were almost within my grasp.
I flew down that backroad and caught a glimpse of something bright yellow making its way into the path leading to the spot that Zach and I called our own. It was unmistakably the tail end of Daisy, Rachel’s Volkswagen Beetle. They were here. Zach was here. And there were no sirens or police cruisers in sight. This was it—the perfect moment to administer the only possible cure for the entity that had such a stranglehold on him. Serendipity was on my side.
There they were, leaning casually against the trunk of the car. His face lit up when he saw my car pull in beside them. He looked much thinner and paler than the last time I’d seen him. But his smile brightened my world the same as it did the day I met him. I breathed a sigh of relief as I threw the car into park and leapt out to meet him with the moonstone nestled firmly in my clenched palm.
I ran toward him with my arms wide open for the embrace I’d been waiting months for. And that’s when his demeanor changed. He became visibly uncomfortable—anxiety ridden to say the very least. One second, he looked happy to see me. The very next, he began backing away from me with a twisted look on his face like I repulsed him to the point of physical sickness. Instinct told me to back off but all of the signs led me to ignore my own gut—for better or worse.
“No, no, no, no, no,” he kept repeating, shaking his head rapidly back and forth. Then he darted for the car.
I ran after him, grabbing ahold of his arm before he could close the door behind him. All I needed was a few seconds to get that moonstone in place but he shook me off and reached for the door handle again. Reeling from the adrenaline of what was quickly becoming a physical altercation, I leaned forward to balance myself against the side of the car. He fired up the engine before the door was even shut. This was my last chance to do what I needed to do.
But before I knew what hit me, the car door slammed shut and a crushing pain seared through my right hand. My fingers were caught in the door frame and I couldn’t get them out.
“Zach!” I screamed as loud as I could, “You have to open the door—my hand is stuck inside it!”
The pain was excruciating—similar to the sensation of four appendages being amputated at the same time, I assumed. But what hurt the worst was his reaction to it. I watched terrified as he ignored me completely, still shaking his head and mumbling to himself.
Once they realized what was happening, Rachel and Clay began to scream along with me but he ignored us all. I rapped sharply on the window with tears streaming down my face—begging him to open the door for me. Then he fell silent and stared straight ahead. I watched him click the lock on his door in utter disbelief. And then the car began to move.
It was barely moving but I was still stuck, desperately dragging myself along with every inch it crept forward. I had to get out before he sped up and ripped my hand to pieces. In a split second, I somehow forged a plan.
“Rachel! Catch!” I screamed then tossed her the moonstone. “Get inside that car—now! Press that thing to his forehead! It’s the only thing that might stop him!”
Confused yet compliant, Rachel snatched the passenger side door open a mere second before he attempted to lock it. I clung desperately to the car, peering inside to see if my plan was going to work.
Rachel flung herself at Zach and forcefully smacked her hand against his forehead. He slumped over instantly yet the car began to gain speed. His unconscious foot was weighing heavier on the gas pedal and I was tripping over myself to keep up with the new rate of acceleration.
The pain became so severe that I squeezed my eyes shut to block it out. I was at the point of passing out when the pressure suddenly released and I was free. Relief brought me to my knees and I sat there cradling my throbbing fingers in my other hand. Rachel ground the car to a halt then crawled overtop of Zach to join me.
I was besieged with shows of concern from both Clay and Rachel yet answering them was the furthest thing from my mind. Why? Because I’d caught a glimpse of something odd half-buried in the pile of rotting leaves I was crouched over. With my good hand, I dug at them until that object was plainly visible. I knew what I needed to do.
Despite their pleas to stay where I was and rest for a minute, I hauled myself to my feet and stumbled to my car—dragging my new find along with me. I threw it onto the passenger seat and reached for that envelope.
I untucked the flap and dumped out what was inside of it. Two letters in sealed envelopes fluttered down in front of me. I snatched the one with my name on it and ripped it open with my teeth. Speed reading through it, I honed in on one thing that confirmed my suspicions. Then I hit the speed dial on my phone.
“Shelly!” I cried into my phone, the instant she picked up. “I need to go to New Orleans. Are you coming with me?”
Serendipity wasn’t always sweet. That was a painful lesson to learn. But dark things often carried beauty too.
24. A Fire Inside
I woke up back in my room at the hospital having no idea how long I’d been asleep. My memories were all a jumble but the war inside my head had dissipated from a full-on rage to a distance rumble. On my bedside table sat an oddly shaped, murky gray stone. I didn’t know how it got there but I liked looking at it. Curious, I picked it up to get a closer look at it.
It was smooth, warm to the touch, and strangely soothing. I’d barely had it in my hand for a minute when something peculiar began to happen. Right before my eyes, that stone started changing.
Its solid gray hue began to swirl around like smoke inside a sealed container. As the color shifted and whirled around, I could catch a glimpse of something else at the center of it. A pulsing light—tiny at first, yet growing steadily larger—shone through
the smoke. It was elliptical-shaped and in varying shades of deep blueish-purple and kind of looked like a fiery eye.
I was captivated by the beauty of it as it seemed to be fighting against the darkness that was circling around it. The dull roar inside my head faded into the background as long as I held that stone next to me. It made no sense to think that a silly stone could be helping me so much but it was the truth. I curled my fingers around it and fell blissfully to sleep.
25. I’ll Stand Bayou
Rachel pleaded with me to go to the hospital for a round of x-rays on my hand but I refused to do it. Despite having felt like my fingers were being amputated only moments earlier, only a vague stiffness remained. If I needed medical attention, I would do it after the plane touched down in New Orleans. I needed to get to Rosewood so I could explain everything to Shelly. We needed to find a way to get to Louisiana without telling my dad why we were going.
Before going into the house, I peeked inside the garage to see if he was home. His car wasn’t there but I didn’t know how much longer it would be until he would be pulling in and wondering why I was there. I clutched the now lumpier envelope tightly to my chest as I ran inside the mansion.
“Ruby! What’s going on? Why are you here and not in Liberty? I’ll absolutely go to New Orleans with you but you need to tell me why we’re going there!” she said in a panic.
“This is why,” I said, dumping the contents of the envelope out onto the side table in the foyer. Two letters—one still unopened—and the object I found at the Hideout lay in an enigmatic pile in front of her.