She sighs, and I can hear the hyped up emotions drain out of her with the sound. "Ok, Cat. Sure."
"Thanks. Now how long have you been serious with this guy?"
She pauses before answering, and I don't know if it is to delay the conversation or because she’s busy thinking. But before I can interject, she tells me, "A little over a month now. It was pretty much like I told you at the beginning," she says as she starts to talk more quickly and pack in the information. "That part was all true. I hadn't ever meant to lie to you, but then things sped up and you and I didn't talk as often. And he really seemed to like me, and it was nice having a guy be so...well, nice to me." She stops to breathe and then continues. "And you didn't seem like you approved of me being with a guy. Any guy. So I kind of fudged the details a bit so that you wouldn't worry about me."
"Leyna," I finally interrupt her. "I'm supposed to worry about you. I'm your older sister. It's what older sisters are supposed to do."
"I know, Cat. But you always seem so busy with what you're doing in the city. And I know I can't really ask all the details about what you do with your time, you've told me that. But lately you've seemed really distracted and caught up with whatever is going on, and I didn't want to add to that. I didn't want you to have to add ‘worrying about me and a guy’ to your list when you were already weighed down with your more important things."
Even though I know her words weren't intended to sting like they do (I sense no malice in her words.), they hurt. The idea that my little sister thinks I have bigger things in my life than her wounds me more than anything else I've experienced over the past year. Maybe I have become too absorbed lately with Chadwick and the drug cartels. I'm losing focus on what should be the essential things.
"Leyna," I squeak out in a higher voice than I had intended. "There's nothing more important to me than you. Ever. I'm sorry I lost sight of that lately. I really am."
Closing my eyes and doing my best to control my breathing, I ask the question that I know needs asking, but that I dread to hear the answer to. "So tell me about this guy. What's he like?"
"Really, Cat? You wanna hear about him?" And her voice sounds like the little girl she really is, and I'm reminded all over again that my family has gone through more hardship than it ever should have at way too early of a stage of life.
"Yeah, of course I do,” I tell her and I lean forward on my bike and rest my head against the handlebars and prepare myself to absorb information that I really don't want to know about. But I'm doing it for her. She needs me right now, and this is how I can be there for her.
"He's tall and blond and handsome and has great teeth, and he smiles all the time and he's super friendly and he's never mean to me," and her recitation of how awesome he is continues for several minutes before I get a chance to introduce another question into the conversation.
"Ok, ok, Leyna, I get the picture," I finally say. "Enough about how much of a human Adonis he is, why don't you tell me about these supposed 'dates' he has taken you on that I never got to hear about."
From what she proceeds to tell me over the next several minutes, the guy seems to be mature and have good taste. He's taken her out to dinner and movies a few times. They even went ice-skating once at the local forum. He always pays for her and lets her choose the movie or the event or the restaurant, and more importantly they haven't progressed beyond a simple goodnight kiss between the two of them.
"Really?" I interject after she tells me that. With just that little tidbit of information, I'm already feeling better and more relaxed. Maybe the boy isn't so bad after all. I wonder why mom and dad are so against him. He seems like the perfect person for her from what she's saying. "That makes me feel better, Leyna. It really does. He sounds like a great guy. So why don't mom and dad like him then?"
"Uh huh," I hear her mumble distractedly, and I can tell I don't have her full attention. Just as I get ready to chastise her for being rude during our conversation, she bursts out with, "Cat! He doesn't hate me. He doesn't. He forgives me and wants to talk. Isn't that great?"
"What?" Her sudden jump in topic has completely confused me. "What are you talking about?"
"He just texted me while we were talking, and I checked it. He said that he understands, and it's no hard feelings and he wanted to know if he could call me." She does her best to suppress a giggle, but it isn't very effective. "I told him of course. I think he's going to call me any minute. Isn't that great?"
"Yeah, it's great Leyna. I'm happy for you. I really am. I hope things work out." I swallow and consider whether or not I should bring up my earlier question before we got interrupted. Finally, I decide I might as well. Otherwise curiosity might needle at me the rest of the night. "So, back to what I asked a moment ago, why don't mom and pop like him if he's so great? I don't get it."
"Oh that," she says with only a slight dimming of her bright bubbliness. "They're just being old fuddy duddies who won't embrace the world of today. It's no good reason at all."
"Ok," I say and laugh. That is a pretty decent view of our parents even though I do love them to death. 'Cutting-edge liberals' was never something they embraced. "But expand on that to ease my curiosity."
"Fine, but don't you get all preachy on me, too. I don't want you trying to ruin my good mood."
"What? No. I already told you, I'm past that. No judging tonight, right?"
"Ok, Cat, thanks," she says and breathes a small sigh of relief that I can hear over the speaker. "They're upset because he doesn't go to my school and we met online."
"That's why they're upset? I agree with you that that isn't a very strong reason. Meeting people online is supposed to be a pretty big thing now. It might not work for me, but I can't see that being a reason to not like the kid." I consider what she told me and our parents' reaction and then address the other part of what she told me. "So if he doesn't go to your school, then what school does he go to? Must be one nearby if he can still get to you for dates. What high school is it? Is it downtown? Is that why they aren't happy?"
She doesn't respond right away, and something tells me I've stumbled upon the real source of the friction between Leyna and our parents. "Well he doesn't go to any of the nearby high schools, actually."
Figuring out why my parents got so upset with her, I do my best to not let my own opinion of her choices seep into my tone. "So he dropped out? Ok. That's not that bad. A lot of good people make that choice and go back to fix it later in life. That doesn't make him a bad person."
"He's not a dropout, Cat. He's really smart. Really, really smart," and as she says the last words her voice fades out for a second letting me know she has another call coming in. I'm assuming this is the guy calling her back.
"What do you mean he's not a dropout? Is he in college? Leyna, are you dating a guy in college?" My voice starts to involuntarily rise as I comprehend what she is telling me and why my parents got so mad. A dropout is one thing, but dating a guy that's in college when you're only an underclassmen in high school? That's just wrong. And illegal.
"That's him, Cat," she says, and I can tell she's ending her conversation with me to start one with him. "I gotta go. I'll call you later. Thanks for talking with me, though. I feel better. You're the best."
"Leyna!" I nearly holler into the phone. "Is he in college? Tell me?" I need to know.
I can hear breathe quietly for just a moment before answering, and those two breaths she takes will stay with me for the rest of my life.
"No, Cat. He's not," she says with finality. "He’s already graduated college,"
Her phone clicks off before I can reply, and I'm left with just dead air on the line.
An empty phone line and a welling bubble of anger growing in my gut.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
"Leyna? Leyna!" I scream into my microphone in an impotent attempt to make her answer me. I know she isn't there anymore, but yelling at the phone is the only thought that grabs hold in my conscious for the next few moments.
To no avail. After a few rings it goes to her voicemail. I leave her a contrite message and try again. Each attempt to contact her just results in her voicemail, and I realize I'm being thwarted by technology. I just need to see and speak to her face-to-face.
Dating a man - not a "guy" or a "boy", but a god damn man! (And for some reason I think my mother would forgive my language on this one.) - is not something I was anticipating from my younger sister. I certainly understand why my parents flipped out. And why she kept it secret. I thought she was smarter than this. I thought she was better than this. Is this what my absence at the home has done? Is this because I haven't been there to guide her?
Realizing I'm just going to drive myself nuts with worry until I actually speak to her and confront her about this, I look to find a way to solve the problem as opposed to just railing against it. I need to find out where she is. But I don't know where she is or where she's going. Aside from most likely sneaking out to meet up with this boy - no...this grown man - somewhere. And I don't know where he is, either.
Or his name. She called him Jacob a number of times when she was talking to me, but I never got a chance to ask his last name. I don't even know where to begin looking. My best guess is to go back to the house and try to track her down from there. But I don't want to go back home. What if I run into mom or dad? Or what if they've discovered she’s snuck out and called the police, and I run into them? Or if he comes by and picks her up in a car, then it might take me weeks to track her wherever she is going. And I don't have weeks. I need to find her tonight.
And only one person is smart enough to help me track her. Ren! He'll know how to find her using some of his electronic gizmos, or at least he'll have an idea for me to use. Thank God for his existence. He'll keep me sane tonight.
"Ren, I need your help, man," I say out loud so that he can hear me and hopefully pull his attention away from his new toys. "Leyna has gone missing. Can you track her?"
Waiting for his reply, I start the Zero up and gun it into a U-turn to head back towards the warehouse, but he doesn't answer me. That’s unlike him even if he is distracted.
"Ren, I need you. Are you there?" I ask and try not to let the rising tingle of fear I'm feeling creep into my voice. "Answer me, buddy!"
Nothing. No response.
How could he have abandoned me tonight, of all nights? I need that man, Leyna needs him, and he isn't around?
"Ren!" I scream into my microphone. "Answer me now, dam-"
I stop mid-yell as I realize my voice is sounding funny in my helmet. I'm not getting my normal little echo that occurs when I talk to Ren. Why aren't I getting that echo?
And then I realize what the issue is, and I almost lose control of the bike as relief floods through my system. The wave of happiness at what just happened is so strong it is almost euphoric. Ren didn't abandon me. I abandoned him. I never turned my radio back on after going out and feeding tonight. Leyna called after I finished, and I completely spaced it thinking about her. Ren can't answer me if he can't hear me.
Flicking the switch to activate the helmet's built in two-way radio, I say, "Ren, I need your help with Leyna, she's-"
But Ren's screaming voice drowns me out. "They're coming, Cat! Geezus, they're coming. You need to get out of there right now. They're almost on top of you."
Slowing the Zero down so that I can concentrate on what he's saying, I ask him for clarification. "Who's coming Ren? Who are you talking about? What's going on?"
"The cartels," he huffs out in a voice I almost don't recognize. He sounds more shaken than I've ever heard before. "That guy you took earlier tonight. You still have his phone. They've been tracking it. They've sent an army after you. They're almost there. I picked up on it with our wire at the lawyer's house. I tried to warn you, but I couldn't get a hold of you on the radio. And your phone kept going to voicemail. They're sending everything at you tonight," he says and pauses to breathe. "Run, Cat. Just run. Get out of there and we'll figure it out later."
A small rumble shakes through my bike, and I look up to see four large, black SUV's pull onto the street where I'm currently sitting. They are still several blocks away, but I can sense they are here for me. They are finally bringing the fight to me in a way that is meant to finish it.
Glancing in the Zero's side mirror, I can see more vehicles behind me gliding into view. Ren was right. They did send an army out for me tonight. They are meaning for this to be a bloodbath. I should run. I should get out of here. I shouldn't stay.
But I'm going to. The seed of rage that Leyna planted earlier has begun to take root, and I can feel its branches pushing out through me. Empowering me. I should run from this. But I don't want to. I want to confront these men and let them taste the fury that is welling up inside of me. I want them to know why they should fear me. I want every one of them to be a creepy, college graduate preying on underage girls so that I can introduce them to the pain they so richly deserve.
Part of me knows that I should run instead of staying to fight. Running is the smarter option. But if I run, then they will follow me. Even if I think I can lose them in the city, what if I don’t? What if one of them manages to track me back to Leyna? Or my house? Or my family? I can’t have that. No. The only way for me to be safe – for Leyna to be safe – is for me to end this here. They have made the decision to start it. But I will end it.
I smile as I feel the darkness swell in me and pulse through my muscles and tingle into my brain. These men can't win tonight. Not against me. They just don't know it, yet.
"Ren," I say as calmly as I can. "I'll be fine, but I need you to do me a favor. Find Leyna for me, ok? She went out with some guy, and I fear that he's..." I stop and swallow unable to continue with that train of thought. "Well, I'm worried something bad is going to happen. Find her for me, so I can talk to her after this." I shudder slightly as my blood begins to itch in my veins. The darkness knows what is coming, and it wants me to release it.
"Sure, Cat," is all Ren says after several seconds, and I begin to think that is all he is going to say. Then he continues quietly, "Be careful and call me when it's over."
"I will, Ren. But don't worry about me. Just find her," I say and then I turn off his speaker so that if he replies I won't be able to hear it. He has been relegated to clicks for the rest of this evening.
Looking up at the approaching convoy of intimidating vehicles approaching me, I smile underneath my helmet and give in to the rush of the Dark Hunger. Tonight no longer belongs to me. This night belongs to Pain. And I am his messenger.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Watching the vehicles barrel towards me, I know I don't have enough energy built up from my earlier hunting to maintain my requisite level of power throughout this fight. I will have to stop at some point and feed, or I will burn myself out before I'm able to burn through all of them. And that isn't an acceptable end to this scenario. So until I can figure out the best way to get a mid-battle snack, I'm going to have to play smart as opposed to giving in to the reckless abandon like I want to.
The Dark Hunger fueling me may be powerful, but it doesn't have the best of intentions when it comes to my well-being. I'm pretty sure giving in to it completely would lead to me physically stalling out just as I'm about to punch somebody, and then I'd just pass out in front of a mob of enraged - and very well-armed - men. With that in mind, I try to do my best to strike a compromise with the beast churning inside of me. I'll let it out, but I won't let it take over. At least not until I feel
it can safely carry me through the end of the battle without fail. Until then, I remain in control.
Blinking through my darkened visor, I watch the four shadow-covered SUV's race towards me. I need to take them out as quickly as possible, and I need to disable as many of the people inside of them as I can. One swift strike that sets the tone for what is to come.
Up until now, I have tried my best to not kill the unfortunates that have drifted to the dark side of the cartels. I break them, I punish them and I inflict pain, but I have kept as many of them alive as possible. Death is not something I want to taste often. The awful clinging bitterness that it brings to my palate is not easily cleansed. But tonight I don't have time to be gentle. I will end this continued charade that they play, and I will find my sister. And they won't stand in my way.
Twisting the handle of the Zero, I accelerate towards the vehicles to bring the fight to them. With my other hand I dig into my backpack to locate the long length of weighted chain I keep in there. As much as I love my bike, I love my sister more. Its sacrifice tonight will serve a greater purpose.
Yanking the chain free of its cloth womb, I pull out the massive coil and loop it loosely around my left arm. My timing must be precise for what I want to happen, and the last thing I need is the chain kinking up on me before it can serve its purpose.
Drifting over slightly on the road so that I am aimed at the driver's side of the massive, black vehicle racing towards me in the wrong lane of the small road we're on (I want to keep the other lead vehicle to my right for this to work, and I need the two pursuing vehicles to be right behind them.), I twist the Zero's throttle as hard as I can to try and gain as much speed as possible before impact. Neither of the lead SUV's show any intention of slowing, and I can only assume that they figure their weight will just crush me unimpeded. Their acceleration towards me nearly matches my own.
Catharsis (Book 2): Catalyst Page 19