I continued to stand there staring at Isaiah, while he stared back at me, long after the driver’s side door slammed shut behind Mom. There were so many things I wanted to ask him, but I had no idea where to begin, and I was running out of time.
“I’ll find you,” he murmured as if feeling my panic. “I’ll never be far behind.”
It almost sounded like a threat, and I knew I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. There was something almost reassuring about his promise.
“Fallon!”
With a last glance at him, I slipped into my seat, tucking the paper bag by my feet and reaching for the door handle. It made a deafening bang when I closed it.
Isaiah was still sitting there when we pulled out of the parking lot and shot down the road.
“Who is he?” I asked as Mom broke every speed limit getting away from the man on the motorcycle. “And what were you guys talking about?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” I repeated, the word coming out high-pitched and ringing with disbelief. “How complicated could it be?”
“Very!” she retorted, slanting me a quick, sharp glance.
“Well, if it has to do with me and Dad… I have the right to know!”
“It’s really not as easy as that, Fallon.”
“Just tell me!”
Silence was my only answer. Miles-and-miles of open road rushed past us without a single word spoken. The only sound emanating around us was the crunch of asphalt beneath the tires, the wind whipping against the windshield and the occasional squeak of leather when I shifted in my seat. Otherwise, it was a very tense drive to wherever we were going.
We didn’t stop driving that night. Mom must have been in a real hurry to get as far away from Isaiah and everything that had happened as possible because by the time she pulled into the parking lot of a motel, we were in Thunder Bay, Ontario — one whole province away.
“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” she said once we were inside with our things.
“Tell me what’s going on,” I said in return.
She shook her head, ambling almost zombie-like to the bed and stripping the sheets. “It’s late. I’ve had a long drive.”
I wasn’t about to let it go that easily. “It wouldn’t have been so long if you had talked to me! Why won’t you just tell me—?”
“Because you’re not ready!” she exclaimed, balling the sheets and blankets and pitching them across the room. They hit the matchbox-sized TV and flopped to the floor.
“Not ready?” I stormed up to her. “How can you know that when you haven’t even tried?”
“I know that because… I just do!”
My laugh came out cold. “You can’t pull that. It’s not fair and you know it. This is my life and you have no right to keep things from me!”
“I’m your mother and I can keep anything I want from you if it means keeping you safe!”
“Well, maybe I don’t want to be safe anymore!”
“Well, that’s too bad because I will always keep you safe! I will always be there to make sure you’re protected!”
I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. “I don’t want to be protected! I want the truth and if you won’t give me that then…” I knew I didn’t have to finish for her to understand I would go to Isaiah for answers if I had to.
“You can’t trust him, Fallon,” she whispered, desperation bright in her eyes. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t know him, but at least he’s willing to be honest with me.”
The hurt on her face was painful to witness, but it was the only way to get through to her. “I have always been honest with you,” she whispered, the words soft and ringing with sadness.
“Except when you hide things from me,” I pointed out.
She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “It’s not that easy, baby girl. There are so many things you don’t understand and I don’t know how to make you understand without you hating me.”
The anger seemed to fade inside me; I could almost feel it washing away. “I could never hate you, Mom. You’re my best friend.”
Tears glistened in her eyes as she reached for me, framing my face in her soft hands. She stroked my cheeks lightly, prolonging whatever she was about to say.
“I love you,” she murmured finally. “I love you so much, Fallon. You are the one thing in my life that has ever meant anything. From the day you were born, I told myself that I would do anything and everything to keep you from getting hurt, even if it meant having you hate me in the end. I know things haven’t been easy for you and I’ve asked you to give up so much, but I promise it was all to keep you safe.”
“Safe from what?” I asked softly.
Her hands fell away from my face, leaving the abandoned area chilled. “I need you to understand one thing before I tell you,” her fingers twisted in front of her, knuckles popping. “I loved your father. I loved him more than I’ve loved anyone. He was everything to me. I would have done anything to be with him forever. But things change, people change and sometimes, it’s the people we love who change into something we can’t change back. Your father turned out not to be the man I thought he was. There were secrets in our relationship that I couldn’t overlook. When we had you, he swore that those secrets were over, that we would be a family. But secrets never just go away, Fallon. They will always be there, lurking in the shadows, biding their time.”
“Is that what killed him?” I whispered, gut churning.
She sucked in a breath. “Your father isn’t dead, Fallon.”
A full heartbeat passed where I could only stare at her. The four little words I’d longed to hear my whole life echoed inside my skull, but not one registered through the crippling vice restraining my thought flow.
“But you said…” I trailed off, choking on the rest of the words.
“I know, sweetie, but I was trying—”
“To protect me?” I grounded out, anger washing through the numbness and claiming my soul. “All these years… every time I asked you about my father, every time I begged you to tell me about him, anything about him… you lied to me!”
She put her hands up, willing me to hear her out. “Let me explain.”
“Explain what?” I moved away from her, not trusting myself when all I wanted to do was lash out. “That all this time I had a father somewhere out there? That you’ve been keeping him from me? What could you possibly say that will fix what you’ve done?”
“I did it to keep you safe, Fallon!” she insisted. “You have no idea the sort of person he was and the things he was capable of doing.”
“I had a right to find out for myself!” I retorted vehemently. “I had a right to know who my father was! I had a right to make that decision for myself.”
“Fallon, please…”
I shook my head, looking at anything but her, knowing I would explode if I saw the plea in her eyes, on her face the way it was dripping from her tongue. “You’re right, there’s no way I can understand why you would do something so selfish.”
“Fallon!” I ignored her shout by throwing open the door and lunged out into the night.
The streets were empty with the odd car passing by. My sneakers splashed against the wet pavement as I ran down the first block and turned. Neon signs flashed all around me despite the late hour. Shops leered back at me with dark, gaping windows. I stopped running and just stood on the sidewalk staring out over the long stretch of concrete ahead of me. It didn’t take rocket science to know that I would find nothing at the end of this road. I could run forever and still have nowhere to go. I had no home, no family, and no friends. I was alone. And it was all because of her.
She was the reason I had no one and nothing. She was the one who took me away from everything, kept me hidden and on the run. This was all her fault. I hated her so much at that moment, even when a small part of me insisted I didn’t, that I hated my situation, not my mother. But my situation wa
s because of her. It didn’t matter which way I looked at it. She lied to me, and it wasn’t a small lie that could easily be forgiven. She was supposed to be someone I could depend on, someone who I could trust and all this time…
“Fallon!”
I turned at the screech of tires. The Impala came to a rattling halt just a few feet from me and my mother jumped out, still dressed in her robe and slippers. The wind toyed with her wispy hair, sending the strands across her tear stained face. Against my will, my hanger diminished.
“You have to let me explain,” she said, coming around to stand in front of me. “You can’t be angry with me until you at least let me explain!”
“I have no home because of you,” I said quietly, suddenly feeling completely exhausted. “I have no friends, no father… I have nothing.”
She shook her head. “You have me. You’ll always have me.”
“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I wanted more?”
Her head bowed as she nodded. “Every day.”
“Then why?” I faltered when my voice broke and tears burned behind my eyes. “Tell me why.”
She looked up. “Because I would rather see you alone then watch you suffer and be used.”
I opened my mouth to ask her what she meant when the earth shuddered beneath our feet and an ear-splitting whoosh, like a fighter jet, sliced the air. Mom’s eyes went wide in terror as they shot past me to something over my shoulder.
“Fallon!”
I had no time to react when she grabbed me and threw me to the ground. The concrete met me with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Something whistled over my head and exploded as it made contact with the only obstacle in its way — my mother’s chest.
I might have screamed. I must have, it was ringing through the night, echoing in my head over-and-over again. Yet I lay paralyzed as I watched her fly backwards into the air, momentarily suspended, a pale blur before dropping like a ragdoll and skidding three feet against wet pavement. She came to a jarring halt, arms and legs angled at odd, bent positions. Her robes lay open, splayed like wings on either side of her.
She didn’t move.
Chapter 7
“Mom!” bits of rock and debris cut into my palms and into my kneecaps through the soft material of my sweat pants. The foul stench of roasted meat and fabric nearly knocked me over when I reached her. “Mom?” I touched her face, my hands shaking violently.
Her lashes fluttered like black butterfly wings against the pallor of her cheeks before sweeping open. “Run!”
I shook my head, my tears raining down on her face. “No… no… hold on, please!”
“Run!” she rasped, her lungs making a strange wheezing sound, like trying to talk with water in your mouth.
“Not without you,” I sobbed, grabbing her shoulders and struggling to lift her, taking great care not to touch the sizzling dodge-ball-sized burn in the center of her chest. “You have to get up! Just… please… get up! Don’t do this… don’t leave me!” I begged, hugging her and yanking her towards the car. If I could just get her inside, I could get her to a hospital.
She shook her head slowly, her eyes closing. “Never leave you… love you so much… never meant… wanted…” With a shuddering breath, she went still in my arms, her head rolling lifelessly to the side.
The scream could have come from somebody else. It poured out without an end in sight, yet it didn’t feel like it was coming from me. The whole world was a blur of sounds, rushing and rolling inside my pounding skull like wind through a tunnel. I grabbed my mom, begging her to wake up, to open her eyes… to live. But she remained unmoving, even as the night boomed with the deafening crack of gunfire. My haunting wails no longer sounded human, not even to my own ears. The hollowing din pulsed through my very soul, drowning out the pounding of my heart and the chaos originating from a short distance away. I clutched Mom’s body to my chest tight, pressing her as close as humanly possible, trying so hard to suck her inside me somehow. I was only distinctly aware of someone shouting my name. But it meant nothing to me.
“Come back!” I wept into my mother’s shoulder. “Please, come back! I’m sorry! Please!”
Something grabbed my elbow. “Fallon! Get up!”
“No!” I threw the hold off with a twist of my arm. “I won’t leave her!”
“Get up!” The grip returned, tighter than before. “She’s gone, Fallon! You need to let go!”
I shook my head, clutching my mother’s head closer to my chest. “The fireball should have hit me!”
Isaiah crouched down in front of me, his face as dark as the smoking gun in his hand. “We need to go! I’ve managed to get Gaston and Mistral back behind a building, but they won’t stay there for much longer.”
I didn’t hear him. “I never told her I loved her,” my lungs seized under the wheezing breath I tried to suck in. “I never told her. She died thinking I hated her! This is my fault… she died because of me,”
His fingers were warm against my face when he gripped my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. “She never questioned your love for her.”
I shook my head. “She didn’t know! I didn’t tell her. I didn’t let her explain.”
He wiped my cheeks. “Did anyone know you better than she did?” I shook my head again, unconsciously leaning into his touch. “Then she knew.”
I looked down into her face, memorizing every inch of it, hurting with the realization that I would never again look into her green eyes. I would never see her smile, hear her laugh or feel her soft fingers against my face. She was gone forever and I was powerless to do anything.
“I don’t know what to do,” I said to her, ears ringing, eyes blurring. “Tell me what to do.”
His answer was the jerk of his weapon-bearing arm. The gun exploded in rapid succession, much louder and jarring that close as he fired at something over my shoulder. I yelped, slamming both hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
It lasted only a second, but my ears rang long after he lowered the weapon and grabbed my arm. “You need to come with me. Now!”
I shook my head. “I won’t leave her here in the street!”
He hesitated only long enough to stash his gun into the waistband of his slacks before taking her from me and lifting her up into his arms. I staggered after him to the Impala and watched with grappling sorrow as he laid her down gently into the backseat.
“Get in!” he said to me from over his shoulder.
I didn’t wait to be told twice. The eerie figures from Lady Clare’s Academy had unfolded themselves from the shadows, ghastly spirits moving, gliding, in our direction. I threw myself into the passenger’s side and slammed the door closed behind me.
Isaiah closed the back door, jogged around the back of the car, guns blazing until he reached the driver’s side and threw himself inside.
“Buckle up!” he said, turning the key and swerving out of the parking spot without waiting for me to do as he suggested.
It was tricky getting the buckle in place when the seatbelt kept locking in place with his erratic driving. But I managed to finally strap myself in and grapple with the dashboard as we rounded corners and tore down deserted streets.
“Where are we going?” I shouted over the roar of the engine.
Casting a quick glance through the rearview mirror, Isaiah said, “Away from here.”
I threw a frantic glance through the side mirror, searching for pursuers, relieved to find none. “I think we lost them.”
Isaiah didn’t comment, but his snort said it all.
We drove in no real direction for nearly two hour, until he was absolutely certain we’d lost the pair. Only when he was satisfied did he turn to me.
“I have a friend who can help,” he said quietly. “I can call him—”
I shook my head, unable to comprehend the fact that my mother would not be waking up and grumbling for her first cup of coffee; it was hard to hold on to with the scorch mark still steaming on her
chest.
“Not yet,” I whispered, turning my torso in my seat and reaching to take Mom’s cold hand. She didn’t squeeze back. “I need to go back to the motel.”
“They could be waiting for us there,” he said.
Too tired to fight, I just shook my head. “All our stuff is there. I need…” Needed what? What was there really? Material possession. Nothing else. But it was literally all I had left.
If Isaiah thought it was a bad idea, he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he turned the wheel, making a wide U in the middle of the street so we were facing back the way we’d come.
Three blocks from the motel, he cut the engine, left the keys in the ignition and turned to me, blue eyes somber. “Stay in the car. Lock the doors and if you see anything… anything at all, you drive. You got it?”
I stared at him, my mind unnaturally blank despite my struggle to put words and thoughts into place. “I can’t,” I croaked at last.
His eyebrows scrunched. “You can’t drive?”
I shook my head, more to clear the fog drenching my brain than denial. “I can drive.”
“What then?”
I swallowed. “I can’t leave you.”
Something… something dark passed over his eyes, but I was too tired to put name to it. “You will! You will, because I will always be right behind you, do you understand?”
“But—”
He was already opening the car door. “You listen to me, Fallon,” he said, one leg already out. “I can’t die and I won’t, not until you’re safe. So do what I tell you! If I’m not back in five minutes, go.”
My eyes widened. “Five mi—”
“Five!” He slammed the car door, but didn’t leave. He stood there, motioning for me to get into the driver’s seat.
Trembling, I crawled over the console and sat. My hands automatically went to the wheel, even though I knew I could never actually do it. I couldn’t leave him. I wouldn’t.
As if reading my mind, his eyes narrowed. I returned his stare, daring him to challenge me. I thought I saw the hint of a grin, before he turned on his heels and, despite the halos of pale light shattering the darkness, disappeared into the night.
Touching Smoke Page 6