Atone

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Atone Page 15

by Wendi Wilson


  Savanna laughs, and some of the tension surrounding the table eases. “No, but I persuaded him to never use his Alts to sexually assault anyone, ever again,” she says. “Then I told him to set a meeting with Dr. Patton and I left.”

  “So, we’re too late,” I say. “He’ll have his meeting and the president will do what he says.”

  “Which is… what?” Silas asks, looking at me like I might have some idea. I do.

  “I don’t know the specifics, but isn’t it obvious?” I respond. “Brother Earl wants to eliminate every Alt on the planet. If he needs the ear of the president, that means he’s going to make sure it’s legal to persecute, imprison, possibly even assassinate anyone who’s an Alt.”

  My eyes land on the Madsen brothers. They return my stare, taking in the enormity of what I said. I know I barely know them, but I feel like I’ve found something in them. Something my life has been missing. Throw in Savanna and the Pattons, and everyone I care about outside of my immediate family is an Alt. We have to stop him.

  “Wait,” Savanna says, drawing everyone’s attention. “It’s not too late. I persuaded President Worth to make the meeting, but that’s all. I never told him to do what Earl says. I wanted to keep that ace in my pocket, so my parents and I wouldn’t become expendable.”

  “If he depends on his Alts as much as you say he does, he’ll never agree without persuasion,” Beckett replies.

  “Exactly,” she says, smiling. “We don’t have to try to break into the White House or stop him from making the meeting. It will crash and burn without me there.”

  “Then he’ll come looking for you, again,” I say, knowing my words are true.

  He will come for her again, it’s just a matter of when and what leverage he’ll have.

  “And we’ll be ready,” Jett responds, an eerie, almost sadistic smile on his face.

  “He’s not taking you again,” Wyatt vows.

  “Never,” Beckett adds.

  “We’re in this together from now on,” Savanna says, looking at each of them, then to the Madsen brothers, her parents, and me.

  “Together,” Slade vows, raising his glass of chocolate milk.

  “Together,” everyone else, including me, chants, raising our glasses and mugs to toast.

  I don’t know how we’re going to beat Brother Earl, but we will beat him. We have no other choice. I refuse to let him take away the life I’m carving out for myself. A life with friends and people who really care about each other. A life without hate.

  A life filled with the type of happiness I’ve never known.

  24

  When we return to the motel, Savanna’s parents ask to speak to her privately in one of the rooms, so the rest of us pile into the other one. I fluff up the pillows on one of the beds and stretch out so that my back is resting against the headboard.

  I watch as Slade looks from me, to the Patton brothers, and back again. His expression seems torn, and I have a feeling he really wants to stretch out next to me, but doesn’t want to get teased by his best friends. I glance at Silas and see almost the same look on his face. In the end, they both take a seat on the other bed, their feet planted on the floor between the two so that they’re facing me.

  “I wonder what Savanna’s parents wanted to talk to her about?” I say, making it sound like a question while breaking the silence.

  “They probably want to punish her for sleeping with them last night,” Slade says, pointing at the triplets and grinning.

  “It wasn’t like that,” Beckett insists.

  “Mm-hmm,” Slade replies, his grin growing even bigger.

  “Shut up, Slade,” Wyatt grits out, his teeth clenched together.

  Silas whacks his brother across the back of his head and Slade grunts, rubbing the spot. I fight the urge to rise from my spot and step between them. That particular impulse is ridiculous. They’re brothers. Twins. They don’t need me to referee their spats. They’ve managed their whole lives without me.

  Wyatt seems to relax after that, his hackles lowering and his signature grin showing signs of returning. He raises his chin in Silas’s direction, a silent thanks for getting Slade to stop his teasing. I catch Silas’s nod in return, and Slade’s sheepish grin.

  “Sorry, dude,” Slade says. “I was just messing around.”

  “No worries, man,” Wyatt responds. “I’m just wound a little tight right now. I can’t handle anyone bad-mouthing our girl on top of everything else.”

  Slade’s mouth drops open, his eyes wide. “I would never…” He snapped his mouth shut and closed his eyes for a moment before popping them open to focus on Wyatt. “I was not, in any way, speaking badly about Savanna. That girl is amazing, perfect for you guys in every way and if I ever get the chance,” his eyes flick toward me and back again, so fast I’m not sure if I’ve imagined it, “to have anything even remotely close to what you three share with her, I’m going to jump on it. Hold tight and never let go.”

  “I think,” Jett says, inserting himself into the conversation for the first time, “that my brother’s anger stemmed from your suggestion that Savanna had sex with all three of us last night.”

  He sounds a little angry, or possibly offended, but it’s hard to tell with Jett. His voice almost always has a sarcastic edge to it. That edge is just a little sharper right now.

  “I told you, I was only joking. Whatever you guys did—”

  “We slept,” Beckett interjects, cutting him off.

  Slade nods, “Okay, well, it’s really none of my business is what I was going to say.”

  “Damn right, it’s not,” Jett replies.

  “Okay, boys,” I say, finally breaking my silence, “knock it off. We’re all stressed out and edgy. Slade apologized. Wyatt accepted. Conversation over.”

  Jett opens his mouth to argue, but I hold out a hand to stop him. “Nobody cares what you guys do with Savanna in private, Jett. We all know she loves you three, just as much as you love her. We don’t judge your relationship, or what it entails. It was a joke. A joke, as in, it didn’t really happen, so it’s funny. Stop being so defensive. Slade is your best friend.”

  Jett seems to waffle for a moment, unsure of what to say, then closes his silver-gray eyes with a sigh. “You’re right. I guess I’m still rattled over everything that’s happened the last few days.” His eyes dart to Slade. “Sorry, man.”

  Slade holds out a fist, and Jett bumps his against it. “Forget about it,” Slade says before shooting me a thankful glance.

  I smile, then look at Silas. His mouth is smiling, but his eyes are… I don’t know. Different. Intense. I can’t look away as the silver edges of his irises widen, seeming to consume the inner gray.

  I swallow thickly, like my mouth is full of sand and I’m trying to choke it down. The movement in my throat catches Silas’s attention, and his gaze shifts down. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and my own copies the motion.

  I’m paralyzed, unable to move as Silas’s eyes roam over my neck. I’m sure he can see my erratic pulse fluttering and, once more, I think about him, or them, scraping their sharp teeth against the delicate skin there. My breath hitches, but not out of fear. I squirm a little, trying to relive the tension that’s built up inside me. Heat pools in my center.

  Slade’s hand shoots out and slaps his brother on the back of his head, much the same way Silas had hit him earlier. Silas grunts and, running his fingers through his silky blonde hair, shoots me an apologetic smile.

  I watch his hair fall back into place and realize just how much I wish those were my fingers running through it. Is it as soft as it looks? My right hand twitches with the urge.

  “What’s going on with you guys?” Beckett asks, ever observant.

  We’re saved from answering as the door swings open and Savanna and her parents walk in. The room gets really crowded, really fast, and Silas and Slade move over to sit next to me, giving the other bed to Savanna and her boys. Her parents sit at the small table by the door.
>
  “Maybe we should just leave. We could go back home and forget Earl Patton ever existed,” Savanna’s mom says, breaking the silence that ensued once everyone greeted each other.

  Home. Do I even have a home, anymore? Is it in Savannah? It sure as shit isn’t with my parents, who’ve done nothing but prove their loyalties don’t lie with me. After this is over, I have no idea what I’m going to do.

  But I am sure about one thing.

  “We can’t do that,” I say, drawing all eyes to me. “We have to finish this. Pretending he doesn’t exist doesn’t solve anything. He’ll still be there, doing everything in his power to rid the world of Alts, including your daughter.”

  “How do we stop him?” Savanna asks. “He has an army of Purists ready to do whatever he says. How can nine people overcome those odds?”

  Wyatt reaches out and squeezes her shoulder, his fingers massaging. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “Wyatt’s right,” Jett says, standing. “We will figure it out.”

  “We have no other choice,” Beckett adds, standing next to his brother.

  He and Jett both move to stand in front of Savanna. Jett holds out his hand, palm up, and Savanna places hers against it. Beckett lays his on hers and Wyatt puts his on top.

  “Don’t forget us,” Slade says, jumping from the bed, making me bounce.

  Slade reaches in, slapping his palm against the top of the pile. Silas stands and holds out a hand to me. I take it, and he pulls me from the bed in one swift motion. My head spins from the quick rush of blood, but I manage to get my arm in the circle and on top of Silas’s.

  Savanna’s parents each place a hand on her shoulders, opting not to try to squeeze into our tight-knit circle. My eyes burn and I inhale slowly to keep the tears at bay. Nine people, devoted to helping and protecting each other, no matter what. I don’t think I’ve ever had that with one person, much less eight.

  Well, maybe my sister. I’d do anything to protect her and I’m pretty sure she’d do the same.

  Savanna opens her mouth to say something, but gets cut off when her phone starts ringing, the sound vibrating from her pocket. We all step back to give her some room as she fishes it out.

  She looks at the screen, before turning the phone outward so the rest of us can see.

  “It’s him.”

  “Put it on speaker,” Jett says.

  She taps her screen a couple of times and Brother Earl’s voice echoes through the room.

  “You little bitch! You didn’t persuade him to do what I say!”

  Savanna smiles, full of satisfaction. “You told me to get you the meeting. I did that.”

  “You knew I needed persuasion to turn him against Alts. He laughed me out of his office when I suggested he make an executive order to kill them all!”

  His own shouting and harsh breathing must muffle his hearing, because he doesn’t acknowledge the gasps that echo through our room. He continues on a tirade about hurting Savanna, his nephews, Mr. and Mrs. James, and anyone else she cares about.

  The man is crazy. Out of his mind. How did I not realize it before?

  Did he really try to convince the president of the United States to perform a mass genocide? A president who gives himself a leg up over everyone by using those same people brother Earl wants him to kill? Even if Savanna had persuaded President Worth to obey him, the order would never have been enacted. No way would congress allow it.

  As if he read my thoughts, he rambles on, “I know, for a fact, that his Alts have persuaded congress and most of the senate to vote with him, no matter what. It would have been so simple! When I get my hands on you—”

  “You’re not going to touch her,” Wyatt growls, cutting off his tirade.

  “Oh, is that one of my dear nephews?” Brother Earl barks. “Good. I’m glad you’re together. They can watch while I punish you for defying me. Then you can watch while I destroy them in the name of Our Lord, God in Heaven.”

  Savanna stabs at the screen, ending the call. Her face contorts with rage for a moment before smoothing out to a look of resolve.

  “We need a plan,” she says, tossing her phone on the bed.

  “I say we kill him,” Jett proposes, grinding a fist into his opposite palm.

  A shiver runs down my spine. I don’t think he’s joking. If he gets his hands on his uncle, he’s a dead man.

  “We can’t kill anyone,” Savanna says. “Not even that slimy bastard,” she adds, nudging her shoulder against Jett’s.

  “Savanna is right,” Mr. James says, his voice stern. “No matter what he’s done, murder is murder.”

  “Sorry, Mr. James,” Jett murmurs. “I wasn’t being serious. I was just daydreaming.”

  His words seem to satisfy Savanna’s dad, who backs off to talk to his wife privately. Silas, Slade and I exchange worried looks. It didn’t sound like Jett was kidding. If killing Brother Earl is the only way to keep Savanna safe, I don’t think anything will stop him from ending the man’s life. Uncle, or not.

  25

  “Wyatt, pat your head.”

  Savanna’s parents ran out to go pick up some essentials at the store, leaving the rest of us to ourselves. After several admonishments to stay hidden at the motel, we finally convinced them we’d be fine. We had no plans to try to confront Dr. Patton. At least, not yet.

  “Wyatt, stop patting your head.”

  I groan. We decided to practice my persuasion-breaking ability, which requires Savanna to persuade someone so I could try to break the command. Savanna has been making Wyatt do stupid stuff for a half an hour, to no avail.

  “Wyatt, you can stop,” she says, and he drops his arm with a relieved sigh.

  “Maybe the stakes aren’t high enough,” Jett suggests.

  “What do you mean?” Savanna asks before I can.

  “You know,” he says. “Remember the first time you used persuasion?”

  I don’t know what they’re talking about and look around the room in confusion. Slade leans over and whispers in my ear, telling me that Savanna accidentally persuaded Jett on their first date because she was scared. Before I can ask what he did to frighten her, Savanna speaks.

  “You’re right.” She looks over at me. “When you broke their persuasion, your emotions were running high. That’s how it was for me at the beginning. I couldn’t stop it from happening when I was angry or scared, and I couldn’t make it happen unless I had heightened emotions, either. Not until I figured it out with a lot of practice.”

  “So how do we make the stakes higher? Get her emotionally involved?” Beckett asks.

  Savanna stares at me for a moment and I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. A sense of foreboding creeps over me.

  “I have an idea, but you have to promise not to get mad.”

  “What is it?” I ask, unable to keep the suspicion out of my tone.

  “You have to promise,” is her only reply.

  “How can I promise not to be mad when you won’t tell me what it is?” When her only response is a hard stare, I throw my hands in the air in defeat. “Fine. I promise.”

  She looks at each of her boyfriends, mouthing something that looks like, “trust me.” My nerves jump, and that sense of foreboding increases tenfold. Savanna looks at Slade.

  “Can you please go stand by the door?” she asks.

  He complies, no persuasion needed, a curious expression on his face. Savanna moves over to the far wall, putting as much distance between them as possible. I arch a brow at her, wondering where this is going.

  “Slade,” she says, her voice deep and powerful, “When I say the word go, I want you to walk toward me slowly, counting to three between each step. If you reach me, you have to kiss me.”

  What the fuck?

  I look at Slade, and his eyes seem to glaze over as he nods. The room explodes with denials, Savanna’s name being echoed by several people. She ignores them all, keeping her pleading eyes glued to mine.

  “You can stop him.
I know you don’t want him to kiss me any more than I do.” Her look turns knowing, and heat rushes to my face. Have I been that obvious in my feelings? “Feel the emotion,” she continues. “Wrangle it, push it out of you. That’s it.”

  Wyatt, Beckett, and Jett have quieted, but they still wear unhappy expressions. Savanna smiles at them and, completely synchronized, they shake their heads at her. They don’t like this any more than I do, but they won’t interfere.

  Savanna looks back at Slade and widens her stance. “Go.”

  “One, two, three,” he counts before taking a step forward.

  “Slade, stop,” I say, making my voice firm.

  “One, two, three.” Another step.

  “Slade, stop. The persuasion is broken.”

  “One, two, three.”

  The room is not large and he’s halfway across with those three steps. He’s not responding to my voice at all, and I can feel panic spreading through my chest. I know he’s been persuaded. It’s not his choice. He doesn’t want to kiss her.

  Or does he? That little niggling of doubt works its way into my brain, weakening my resolve.

  “Stop,” I order, making my voice sound firmer, even though I don’t really feel it.

  Another count. Another step.

  “Slade, please.”

  Now I’m begging, my voice cracking with emotion. If he doesn’t want to kiss Savanna, he could fight this. I know, on some level, that I’m being irrational. He can’t fight it. That’s the nature of persuasion. But it doesn’t make the errant thought go away. Why am I even trying? If he wants to kiss her, he should kiss her. Who am I to stop him?

  Another step and he’s only a few feet away.

  “Lizzie, he’s going to kiss me.” Savanna’s words ring out, edged with panic. The tremor in her voice pulls me from my thoughts. “Has he kissed you, yet? Do you want to see his lips on mine? When you haven’t even felt them yourself?”

  “One, two, three.”

  Anger floods through me, wiping out my earlier insecurity. My arms straighten at my sides as my breath huffs in and out. I can’t believe Savanna put me in this situation. She’s forcing me to acknowledge my feelings, in front of everyone, without really knowing if Slade or his brother feel anything for me in return.

 

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