Atone

by Wendi Wilson

  Meeting all these nice, respectful, gorgeous Alts is playing havoc with my equilibrium. First the Madsens, then the Davilas turned out to be stand up guys. Not at all the evil abominations, the spawn of Satan that Brother Earl has painted them. They’re nice.

  And none of them once tried to persuade me.

  19

  “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  The front door barely closes behind me when I hear Slade’s shout. For a split-second, I marvel at the fact that I know it’s him and not his twin brother by the timbre of his voice. I’m starting to understand how Savanna can always tell her boys apart.

  “Chill, man. I’m sure she’ll be fine,” one of the triplets says as I walk into the living room.

  The Madsen twins are standing beside the couch, chests heaving and faces red, as Jett, Wyatt, and Beckett lounge on the couch, video game controllers in hand. Slade balls a fist and cocks it back, ready to let it fly right into a Patton’s face.

  “Stop,” I yell, quickening my pace. I stop beside Slade and rest my hand on his forearm, squeezing until it relaxes and drops to his side.

  “Savanna is gone,” Silas explains.

  “Yeah,” Slade adds, “and these assholes don’t know where she is and they don’t even care.”

  A creepy-crawly feeling slithers across my scalp and down my back. She did it. She actually left. And all signs point to her having persuaded them in the process. No way are they this nonchalant about it without her interference. I pull the twins across the room and speak in hushed tones.

  “Savanna persuaded them.”

  Identical expressions of shock and repulsion mar their faces.

  “How do you know that?” Silas asks, suspicion narrowing his eyes. “Were you here when she left?”

  “No,” I say, swallowing against the sudden feeling of sandpaper in my throat, “but I talked to her before I left the house. She got a text from Brother Earl telling her to meet him at the Lincoln Memorial tomorrow at noon. He said to come alone, or he’d hurt her parents.” My gaze drops to my feet. “I could tell what she was planning, and I tried to talk her out of it.”

  “Well, you didn’t try hard enough!” Slade shouts, making me flinch.

  “You should have told them what she had planned,” Silas adds, his quiet voice almost more reprimanding than his brother’s shouted words.

  “She’s my best friend,” I say. “My loyalty is to her, first. I tried to convince her it was a bad move. I tried to help her find another way. But she’s stubborn and hardheaded… and that’s why they love her.” My voice rises in volume as I fling a hand out to point at the boys in question. “They had gone out for food when I left to go, uh, explore town, so I couldn’t warn them even if I wanted to.”

  The boys deflate, their shoulders drooping. I relax and soften my voice. “What have you tried besides almost punching them?”

  “We tried talking to them,” Silas says. “Then our parents got home and they tried.”

  “Nothing has worked,” Slade adds.

  “I can try,” I say, seeing the despair in their eyes.

  They’re worried about Savanna. That much is obvious. They care about her, this girl that invaded their lives and brought a truckload of trouble with her. It’s a testament to their character. I can feel my heart softening even more toward them.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  Shaking off the thought, I turn and stalk back over to the couch where the triplets are still immersed in their video game. I stop in front of Jett, his old sardonic smile plastered on his face.

  “Jett,” I say, “how can you just sit here playing games when Savanna is in trouble?”

  “She’ll be fine. She’s a strong girl,” he says.

  Wow.

  “Beckett,” I try, “what about you? Don’t you think you should go after her?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t really feel like it.”

  “Why is everyone obsessing over Savanna?” Wyatt asks, rapidly tapping the buttons on the controller in his hand. “You’d think you guys are all in love with her or something.”

  “You’re the one that’s in love with her,” I snap. “All of you are.”

  Wyatt laughs, never taking his eyes off the television. “Good one, Lizzie.”

  I don’t usually have a volatile temper, but I’m fast losing the tenuous grip I have on it. My body starts to shake, flashing from hot to cold and back again. I grind my teeth together.

  “She could die,” I grit out through my clenched jaw. “Brother Earl will use her, then when he’s finished with her, he will probably kill her. Is that what you want?”

  Beckett looks up at me, concern on his face and I think I have him. Then he shrugs and turns his attention back to the game. “I’m sure she’ll be okay,” he mumbles.

  Jett lifts his hand, waving it in a shooing motion. Like I’m a child. Like I’m dismissed.

  I lose my shit.

  A crack echoes through the room as my palm connects with his cheek. I instantly regret it, the sting in my palm and wrist far outweighing any satisfaction I get from physically assaulting the jerk. I shake my hand to relieve the pain as Jett looks up at me, his expression incredulous. An angry red palm print stains his cheek.

  “She persuaded you, you assholes, now snap out of it and remember!” I shout.

  The Patton brothers freeze, and it feels like all the air has been sucked from the room. Beckett’s game controller hits the carpet with a soft thud. Wyatt’s eyes slowly widen until they look like they’re going to bug right out of his head. Jett’s face darkens, my still-visible handprint turning maroon.

  Suddenly, the world starts spinning again and all three of them are on their feet, shouting expletives.

  “I’m going to kill her,” Jett grits out.

  “Not if I kill her first,” Wyatt adds.

  “We have to save her before we can kill her,” Beckett says, pacing across the room.

  “Wait,” I shout, feeling disoriented and extremely confused. “What’s happening?”

  “Savanna persuaded us,” Jett replies, his eyes narrowing.

  “She made us freeze, then wouldn’t let us speak,” Beckett adds, his words slow and measured as if he’s remembering it as he’s speaking. “She told us to let her go without a fight. To not worry about her at all.”

  “She made us stop loving her,” Wyatt says, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He sniffs and rubs his eyes. “I’m going to kill her,” he repeats.

  “But, how?” I ask, my eyes darting to the Madsens and back again. “How do you remember?”

  Beckett stops his pacing and looks at me. “You told us to remember,” he says, his voice low and full of wonder. “You ordered us to remember and we remembered.”

  I shake my head, the vigorous motion sending my black curls flying. No. No way. I’m a normal person, not an Alt. I can’t persuade people.

  “You have Savanna’s blood inside you,” Jett says, interrupting my chaotic thoughts. “Maybe it gave you some of her power.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Wyatt says. “We gave to go, now. She’s in trouble.”

  “Wait,” Silas says. “Slow down. We need to come up with some kind of plan.”

  “We don’t have time!” Beckett shouts, his panic making him behave completely out of character. He’s usually the quiet, reserved one.

  “What time is she meeting him tomorrow?” Slade asks me.

  “She’s meeting him at noon, at the Lincoln Memorial,” Jett says.

  “Okay, well, it’s about a four hour drive to D.C. from here,” Silas says. “We can leave in the morning, early, and be there in plenty of time to catch her before she gives herself over to him.”

  “We have to find her. Now,” Wyatt demands.

  “How are we supposed to do that?” I ask. “She could be anywhere. We don’t know where she’ll be until noon.”

  “We’ll drive around until we find her. Check every motel, every rest stop, every coffee shop.”
/>   Jett’s eyes seem to roll around in his head as he speaks, his nostrils flaring like a scared animal. On some level, he has to know that this plan is ludicrous. He can’t expect to find her in the middle of the night in a strange city.

  Plus, she obviously doesn’t want them to find her.

  “Listen, guys,” I say, keeping my voice calm and my tone level. “It makes more sense to wait until morning. We can leave early, after a good night’s sleep and get to the memorial before she does. We’ll intercept her before Earl gets there and find a way out of this mess.”

  Some of the tension in the room eases as they accept my logic. At least, I hope they do and don’t try to sneak out when the rest of us are sleeping. I might have to sleep downstairs with them tonight, just to be sure. And hide all the car keys in the house. And take their phones so they can’t order a ride.

  I plop down on the couch, exhaustion taking over. On some level, I hear the boys talking, making plans for the morning and the big rescue. But most of my mind is focused on one thing.

  Apparently, I can break persuasion.

  The scene plays over and over in my head, my brain trying to make sense of the sequence of events. Me slapping Jett, yelling for him to remember, and the looks on the triplets’ faces as the fog of Savanna’s persuasion lifted.

  It’s insane. Maybe it was just a coincidence. Maybe her persuasion… I don’t know… wore off? That has to be it. The power she holds over them has some kind of time constraint and it just ended at the same exact moment I yelled at them to remember.

  Yeah.

  “Lizzie? You okay?” someone asks, breaking my runaway train of thoughts.

  Slade slips onto the seat beside me and wraps an arm around my shoulder. His palm curls around my bicep and he pulls me in, enveloping me in his warmth and spicy scent. I know I barely know him, but damn, it feels good to be held. My heart rate kicks up a few notches as I fight against the urge to rest my face against his chest and inhale.

  God, I want to.

  Instead, I stare at my lap and answer, “I’m good. Just a little overwhelmed.”

  A weight plops down on my other side and Silas is there, looking concerned. Thoughts of persuasion and any breaking of it fly from my head as my body tingles from their proximity. Nerves spasm across my entire body, making me want to squirm, but I resist the urge.

  I concentrate on keeping my breathing even as Silas takes my hand and sandwiches it between his. Strong, lean fingers brush across the skin of my palm, sending a shiver I can’t suppress down my back.

  “Are you cold?” Slade asks, sliding in closer.

  “No,” I croak.

  “Are we making you nervous?” Silas asks. “Because we can back off. You just look like you needed some comfort.”

  He starts to slide away, putting some distance between us, and I find myself gripping his hand tight and holding him where he is. This time, I swallow and clear my throat before I try to speak.

  “No, I’m fine,” I murmur. “Thank you.”

  He smiles, and I can’t help but return it. Every time either of them smile and I see the deep indentations on either side of their mouths, my heart flutters. Who knew I had a thing for dimples? If I didn’t before, I certainly do now.

  Slade’s arm tightens, and I meet his eyes. He shoots me a grin and I smile back at him.

  “Ah, there it is,” he says. “Can’t have my brother be the only one graced with that beautiful smile.”

  My face heats up and he chuckles. I jab him in the side with my elbow, sure that making me blush was his sole purpose for his words. He grunts but doesn’t release me.

  I look around, realizing for the first time that we’re alone in the room. Sensing my question, Silas answers it before I can ask.

  “They’re out in the backyard, talking to our parents. Mom and Dad were pretty frustrated with them earlier, and the guys wanted to apologize to them and explain what was going on.”

  “And we asked them to give us some time alone with you,” Slade adds.

  “Oh,” I so eloquently respond, clearing my throat again.

  Slade removes his arm from my shoulders and I miss its weight and warmth immediately. He turns, angling toward me until our knees touch. Somehow, that innocent contact makes my heart skip a beat and sends heat coursing through me.

  I’m in so much trouble.

  “So,” he says, seemingly unaware of my chaotic emotions, “we know that Savanna’s blood somehow gave you the power to break persuasion. I wonder if you can actually persuade someone. Do you want to try?”

  “Um, I don’t know,” I say.

  “What could it hurt?” Silas asks.

  “I’m not entirely sure I was responsible for breaking the persuasion,” I say. “What if it just, I don’t know, wore off, or something”

  “Impossible,” Slade replies. “Persuasion doesn’t wear off. It has to be reversed, either by the person who initially enacted it or another Alt who uses their own persuasion to override it.”

  “Or by having Savanna’s blood in your system,” I whisper.

  “That’s right,” Slade says, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “When that crazy doctor injected you with her blood, it made you immune, right?”

  “Yes, and it broke any previous persuasion.”

  “Someone persuaded you before?”

  I nod. “Jett did during their first week at school. This girl Fiona made it her life’s mission to torture Savanna. I was her friend and Jett persuaded us both to leave her alone. We couldn’t do anything to annoy her, speak badly to or about her, or anything else that could be deemed unkind.”

  They don’t respond, and I feel the need to defend myself. “I’m not proud of the way I acted, following Fiona around and laughing when she was mean to people… mostly Savanna. I thought being popular and envied was what was most important. Now, I know I was wrong.”

  “What’s most important now?” Silas asks, his deep voice sounding even huskier to my ears.

  “Really caring about the people around you,” I say. “And having them care about you. True friendship. That’s what matters.”

  “I thought you were going to say, ‘true love,’” Slade says with a sly grin, breaking the tension.

  I laugh, unable to help myself, and bump my knee against his. “You wish,” I tease.

  He mumbles something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, but when I ask him to repeat it, he shakes his head.

  “Nothing. Let’s do an experiment,” he says, changing the subject.

  “What kind of experiment?” I ask.

  “Let’s see if you can persuade us.”

  “What? No!”

  I don’t know why I get so worked up about it. Maybe it’s the thought of taking someone’s free will away, especially Silas and Slade’s. Maybe it’s fear that it won’t work. Maybe it’s fear that it will.

  “Come on, Lizzie,” Slade cajoles, “it’ll be fun.”

  “Yeah,” Silas adds, “we should try. It probably won’t work, but we have to know for sure.”

  I can tell they’re not going to give up until I give in, so take a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. “Okay, fine. What do I have to do?”

  Slade grins and rubs his palms together. “Relax and clear your mind.”

  “Then think of a command and focus on it,” Silas adds. “Imagine the power swirling through you, center it and let it flow out of you as you speak the words.”

  “I didn’t do any of that when I slapped Jett and screamed at them to remember,” I say.

  “I know,” Silas replies, “but that was the side effect of an emotional response. What we’re trying to do is intentional.”

  As he speaks, a swarm of bees starts buzzing in my belly and my breath hitches in my throat. It’s not the words. Those are innocent enough. But there’s something in his tone, a look in his eye, the tightening of his hand around mine that makes my senses go haywire and shifts my hormones into overdrive.

  “Yeah,
” Slade says, pulling my focus away from his brother as he takes my free hand into his and squeezes it. “We’ll try it this way first, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll try again with heightened emotions.”

  A cocky grin pulls up one side of his mouth and he winks at me. The bees turn angry and start slamming against the walls in my stomach. Being sandwiched between these two boys is messing with my ability to put two coherent thoughts together, so I free my hands from theirs and stand, putting some distance between us.

  “Okay,” I say, struggling to keep my voice even, “what should I say?”

  “Something easy,” Silas says.

  “Yeah, tell Silas to do something embarrassing,” Slade adds, smirking.

  Silas punches him in the arm and he yelps before swinging his own fist toward his brother’s head. Silas tries to lean back, but Slade’s knuckles clip his ear. I can see the situation spiraling out of control, so I focus on them, trying to find the power like they instructed. I take a deep breath and imagine the power flowing out with my words.

  “Stop fighting.”

  The boys immediately freeze and lean away from each other. They look at me with sheepish expressions, each of them sporting splotchy cheeks, red with embarrassment.

  “It worked?” I ask, my heart pounding against my ribcage with the possibility.

  Slade shakes his head. “Sorry, Lizzie.”

  “But you guys obeyed me,” I say, cringing at the disappointment in my voice.

  I am not disappointed. I’m not.

  “We stopped because you told us to, and we’re embarrassed,” Silas says. “Not because we were persuaded.”

  “Oh.” Not disappointed.

  “We can always try heightened emotions,” Slade says, standing.

  He looks down at Silas and they have some sort of silent conversation, like twin-tuition or something, and Silas gets on his feet. They walk around opposite sides of the coffee table and stalk toward me. I take a step back and lift my palms in the air.

  “What are you doing?” I ask and, surprisingly, my voice doesn’t falter.