The Descendants

by K. K. Allen

  Paul makes his way across the room and stops to examine a wood strip in the door frame. I look back at the photo and frown. He’s admitted it to me in subtle ways during our talks of their relationship, but it’s just now becoming abundantly clear.

  My father never stopped loving my mother … and even in her death, he will continue loving her.

  We grab an early dinner at the marina, enjoying the burning orange sunset as it descends into the horizon. We’re nearly finished with our meals when my dad’s eyes move up and over my head. “Johnny!” He exclaims with a brilliant smile.

  I turn to see Johnny paying the bartender and grabbing a takeout container of food before heading to our table. He looks adorable in a hooded sweater and long jeans. Suddenly, I’m self conscious, wishing I’d spun my hair up into something hotter than this messy bun and put on anything other than my sweater, black leggings, and boots. Not horrible, but it would have been nice to be prepared.

  “Have a seat,” my dad offers.

  Johnny takes a chair beside me and opens up his container of food, digging in. He’s devouring it as if he hasn’t eaten a thing all day. He sneaks a look at me, giving me that crooked smile that lights up my heart. My face remains neutral. I don’t want my dad to witness the effect Johnny has on me. He already knows enough.

  “We just went to the treehouse,” Paul brags casually, as if Johnny is already aware of its existence.

  I turn questioning eyes on both of them. Does Johnny already know about my treehouse?

  His widened eyes are aimed at me and alight with pride, but I don’t understand why. “How did you like it?”

  “How do you know about the treehouse?”

  “I told you I had some help,” Paul says as if I should know. He tips his head in Johnny’s direction. “He got everything started while we were still away in North Carolina. Turns out Johnny has some experience building treehouses with his father.” Paul is beaming.

  Suddenly the gift of the treehouse becomes much more extraordinary knowing Johnny had a hand in it. It also means he knew of the stargazing setup when we talked about the topic yesterday. Interesting.

  I reward Johnny with a tight smile. “I guess I should be thanking you too, then. It’s pretty incredible.” Like you.

  He beams at me from above his veggie burger and sweet potato fries. “You’re welcome. My dad and I used to build small ones at all the places we’d port at. It became one of our many hobbies. Now and then we’d go back and visit them to see how they were holding up. One of the areas actually turned into a park, but the city decided to keep the treehouse. They made some alterations, but it was pretty cool that they wanted to keep it.”

  I take a sip of water, realizing with a rush of emotions that Johnny spent his Christmas working on my treehouse. My dad must sense some awkwardness because he stands up to pay the bill, leaving us to ourselves.

  “You and my dad sure are buddy-buddy lately,” I tease.

  Johnny winks at me. “Makes it easier to see you if he likes me.”

  My entire body heats up and then cools itself down instantly as I almost choke on my last sip of water. “Is that so?”

  His eyes twinkle as he chomps on another fry.

  Just then, my dad returns. “Kat, I just got a call from the plant,” he says. “I need to check on some things. Think you can grab a ride home with Johnny? That okay with you, son?”

  Somehow, I suspect my dad knows it’s perfectly fine with Johnny.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll make sure Kat gets home safe.” He stands and shakes my father’s hand. I watch the exchange with shock and intrigue. I’ve never seen Johnny be this formal with anyone. When he sits back down, he continues to shove down his food and I just watch him, enjoying every second.

  “I can walk myself home if you’re busy. I’m sorry my dad assumed you had nothing better to do.” I give him a syrupy sweet smile, and he stops mid-chew to glare at me. I bite my lip to stop the laughter from escaping my lips.

  He finishes his bite, swallows, then speaks. “I don’t mind.” Then he charms me with an equally sweet smile and tosses the rest of his burger onto his plate. He wipes his fingers on a napkin and takes a long pull on his straw until he’s drained his water.

  “Let’s go,” he says as he pulls me to my feet.

  “Okay.”

  But instead of leading me home, he pulls me along the dock toward the boathouse without any explanation. I don’t care where he plans to take me; I’m too focused on how perfect my hand feels in his. I love the way it swallows mine. I look up, focusing on his profile. He wears a serious expression, and I wonder if he’s contemplating what he will say.

  As soon as I’m about to ask him what we’re doing, his eyes darken and his hold on my hand tightens. Then he stops, forcing me to take a few shuffles backward. I follow his eyes, and my heart completely free-falls onto the dock with a thud.

  Alec stares back at us with a pained look that breaks my heart all over again … and he’s not alone.

  Chapter Twelve

  His expression burns with pain, fury, and a whole lot of resentment. This is not how I imagined seeing Alec again. We haven’t even spoken since that night on my balcony, the night he broke up with me. He broke up with me. I try to let this justification win over the feelings of guilt, but it’s not working. Alec deserves better than the hurt I’ve caused him.

  He isn’t alone. Khloe and Kaleb flank him on either side, and Arabella stands next to Kaleb. As their faces come into focus through the haze of my conscious, I see that they each regard me with different looks. Anger, envy, confusion, and empathy. Arabella carries the look of empathy, and it softens the blow to my ego.

  I realize we’re standing in front of Kaleb’s parent’s yacht. They must have just gotten back from taking it out. This is the first time I haven’t been invited on one of their adventures. Suddenly, I’m an outsider, just like when I arrived in Apollo Beach. Is this how it’s going to be from now on? My friends having to choose between Alec and me? Of course they will choose Alec every time. Now I’m the one who’s hurting.

  I try to pull my hand from Johnny’s, but he won’t let go.

  “Well, look who it is. The lovebirds.” Alec’s tone is dry, dripping with sarcasm. “Going for a romantic cruise into the sunset?” He’s looking between us, as if expecting us to respond to that. If my magic could rewind time, I wouldn’t hesitate to remove this confrontation from existence.

  Johnny steps to the side so he’s standing in front of me, shielding me from Alec’s face … but not his words. His words crush me. “We don’t need to do this, Alec. Not now.”

  I peek right to see Alec’s jaw tighten, and he looks around for a second at nothing in particular. “Why not now, Johnny? You mean you’re actually sticking around this time? I sure hope so. Maybe we should grab some lunch soon, trade stories. You can tell me all about your adventures at sea while I was here for your girl—after you broke her heart.”

  Something about the way Alec refers to me as Johnny’s girl does something to me. I want to cry; I want to scream. Instead, I take a step right so Alec has full view of me and try to shove all emotion down into the pit in my stomach. “Alec, Johnny’s right. We shouldn’t do this here.”

  Alec looks as if I’ve slapped him across the face. “That’s right. You two are a team now. You know what, Kat? Don’t you dare expect me to be there for you when he leaves you again.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” Johnny’s fuming, but he turns to me, resisting other temptations. I know he’s fighting something because his fists are rolled into tight balls, his knuckles white from the pressure. “Let’s go, Kat.” Johnny tries to pull me forward, but Alec steps in front of him, challenging him.

  They stare each other down and I’m watching their profiles, desperately wanting one of them to end this. What are they going to do to each other? I look around frantically to see if anyone else is witnessing this. It’s just the six of us.

  “Care to move, Alec? I thi
nk you’ve said enough.” Johnny is trying. I can see how hard this is for him, but Alec wants closure, and I can already see that his attempt to get it is not going to end well.

  Alec’s voice grows low and threatening. “I haven’t even started with you yet.” I have never feared Alec. In fact, it’s rare to see anything but a smile on his face. But this Alec is scary. He’s shaking, and I can practically see the steam coming from his eyes and ears as he glowers at Johnny.

  I take a gentle step forward, hoping to cut through their staring competition but not wanting to make any sudden movements. One of them is about to strike the other at any moment. “Hey,” I tug at the hem of Johnny’s shirt. “Can we just go? Please?”

  Maybe I should have chosen better words, or said nothing at all, because my words have the absolute opposite effect I was hoping for. As Johnny swivels his head and sees me, his eyes soften. He’s about to relent … for me. That’s when Alec’s fist connects with the left side of his jaw, propelling Johnny into me. He holds himself up, but the impact of his body shoves me to the ground.

  And then it begins …

  Alec looks down at me in horror. Johnny throws a glance at me, eyeing me for injuries, then he turns back to Alec, infuriated, and retaliates with a right hook of his own. I cringe as the blow creates a crunching sound. Alec lunges for Johnny, and Arabella pulls me up and away from the brawl. We stand opposite Kaleb’s boat where he watches the scene in astonishment.

  Khloe has tears in her eyes, but she’s fiercely brushing them away. She probably doesn’t want me to see what this confrontation is doing to her, but it’s too late, and I’m feeling more guilty than ever. I was so selfish when it came to Alec. I wasn’t ready to be with him, but I didn’t want anyone else to have him. If I had just been honest with myself, and with him, none of this would be happening right now.

  My jaw slacks in horror as Alec and Johnny take shots at each other, tearing each other’s clothes, grunting and growling all the while.

  “Just let them duke this one out,” Arabella says. “This is about them right now, not you. They’ll be sorry in the morning.” She’s rolling her eyes in annoyance.

  She’s right, but at the same time this wouldn’t be happening if I wasn’t involved. No matter who started it, or who might end it, the guilt belongs with me.

  I wait for the fight to die down, for the guys to collapse beside each other and then hug it out. That’s what guys do. They fight, and then they become the best of friends. Right? No—my guess is that Johnny and Alec will never be friends.

  Something has been said. Something that enrages Alec further because next thing I know, Alec is shoving Johnny away, raising his arms so his palms are out, expelling an element that looks like fire. Oh no.

  “No!” I scream and try to run toward Alec to stop him, but Arabella yanks me back. She’s strong.

  Alec’s force fires from his palms, pushing Johnny back before the flames actually hit him, but Alec isn’t done. Johnny has his arms out now, ready to shield the next blast.

  “That wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” Johnny snarls before using his powers to rip one of the side fenders from a neighboring boat to smack Alec in the head.

  My mouth just about hits the floor as the connection slams Alec forward into the dock. His hands catch the platform, and he pulls himself up without any effort at all. Then he barrels into Johnny, and they roll down the deck taking swings at each other. Their knuckles are bloody from the impact their fists make with the wooden pillars beneath them, and gashes in their heads appear as they slam into the steel stakes that hold knotted rope in place.

  Finally, Johnny is able to use his entire strength to push Alec from him and send him flying—literally flying—into a standing position a few feet from him.

  “Enough!” Arabella and I say at the same time. I’m glad she’s finally taking this seriously.

  The guys aren’t done though. They’re about to use their magic again, both palms up and aimed at each other when Arabella and I exchange one look. It’s clear what we’re doing next.

  “Help us!” Arabella shouts to the twins.

  Simultaneously, the four of us throw our power between Alec and Johnny. The intention is to shield them from each other, but they are throwing their power at the same time. Suddenly, everything collides. There’s an explosion of flames, energy, and light, combusting into a white and orange fireworks show. The sounds are deafening, especially to our sensitive ears.

  We all pull back at once. Johnny and Alec fall apart, backing up onto their sides. As the lightning show continues to grow, they crawl backward to avoid the inevitable aftermath. Our energy is taking on a life of its own. We watch the light transform into various shapes, as if it doesn’t know what to do with so much energy.

  The clashing energy becomes so excruciating we have to throw our hands over our ears to muffle the noise. Something is going to combust any second. But instead of an explosion, the particles separate into pieces, causing flickers of light to burn as the energy floats away. It’s like the atmosphere is calling to the energy, magnetizing it to its rightful position—everywhere.

  My thoughts are lost as I watch the remaining embers leave the boathouse. No one moves, not for several long minutes. I’m not sure what that was exactly, but I’m determined to find out.

  “Just sit still.”

  Johnny is wound up from the fight, so trying to maneuver him into a resting position is close to impossible.

  We made it to his boat, where he snatched a stack of towels from his bathroom, then started to apply pressure to himself, fuming angry words under his breath. I can see that the fight did nothing therapeutic for Johnny at all. I finally force him to a sitting position on the couch and sit beside him.

  He has a head wound that’s slowly pooling, and blood soaks through his shirt at the top of his shoulder. I’m attempting to clean his wounded knuckles on both of his hands, but he’s fighting me, telling me he’s got this. His stubbornness only fuels my need to heal him. It’s what I do.

  “It’s magic,” I say. “It won’t even hurt!”

  Against his struggle, I manage to grab hold of his right hand. In a slow and deliberate attempt to calm him down, I bring his palm to my face and let slow, cool air pass between my lips. I’m not sure if it’s the tingling sensation on his skin or the sight of my actions that finally stills him, but energy between us is suddenly sweltering. It takes an insurmountable level of effort to concentrate, so I narrow my eyes, allowing my long lashes to shield the effects his closeness has on me. As I let out another train of air, he shifts slightly, but I refuse to look up. Instead, I purse my lips to keep my face muscles from smiling and continue to work on his palm.

  I transfer air from my lungs to his knuckles, then trail featherlight fingers over his wounds, sealing them as I go. I smile as the last residue of a scar disappears completely, leaving perfect hands. My eyes might linger on them a little longer than intended, only because I’m not sure what to focus on next.

  A trickling of blood slides down his arm and I glance at his shoulder, my next mission. He’s still holding a rag on top of the wound under his shirt. Meanwhile, more blood trails down around his eyes and onto his nose. I must look concerned because he attempts to reassure me, telling me he’s fine. He’s not convincing enough. Besides, I like what my magic does to him. This time, I’m in control, and I’m going to take advantage of every second.

  In a swift move, I swing my left leg over him so he’s pinned beneath me. If Johnny could turn to stone, this is what he would look like. I bite my lower lip to hide my smile, then reach for his shoulder first, throwing the bloody rag into the bowl beside us. His shoulder is still covered by his t-shirt. I can’t work like this. With both hands on either side of the seam, I rip his sleeve from his arm and toss it to the side. His sharp intake of breath causes my cheeks to burn and my pulse to begin its sprint through my veins.

  “I really liked that shirt.” His voice is husky, and I know he’s not
mad in the least.

  My focus is back on his shoulder, but I think I made a terrible mistake. His shoulder is as tempting as his any other part of Johnny. I just want to kiss it and brush over it with my hands. Concentrate, Kat. I force the thoughts down deep with the rest of my pent-up feelings. But something is happening within me, and I know every emotion will be unleashed if I don’t get a handle on them.

  As I apply pressure, I’m also using my magic to get the blood flow to stop. Before I actually heal the wound, I want to see it. This is something Charlotte taught me. Even when using magic, wounds can heal incorrectly, causing infections down the line.

  When I take a closer look at his arm, I examine the ugly gash. It seems to be fine, besides the few splinters that managed to web themselves into his flesh. I will them out, one by one without touching them, and toss them into the bowl.

  Once everything is clean, I heal his gash the same way I healed his knuckles, by blowing a light train of air onto it. Then, with my hands steady on either side of his shoulder, I watch the last trace of the wound close. Not even a blemish.

  He turns his head to look down at his shoulder, and I steal a look at his profile, knowing I’ll be dangerously close to staring into his eyes soon. Maybe I should have left a tiny scar as a reminder to not be so stupid next time. I shudder. Hopefully there won’t be a next time.

  I’m glaring at him when he looks away from his arm and directly into my eyes. He grins, knowing he has me back under his control, obviously enjoying this a little too much. “Are you mad at me?” he teases.

  A tingling sensation fills every part of me as two of his fingers slowly paint my spine, brushing upward, then downward, as they go. My breath releases in a jagged rush. He’s trying to distract me. I can’t let him win.

  “Why did you antagonize him? You’ve done enough by showing up here again.”