Love's Cruel Redemption (The Ghost Bird Series)

by C. L. Stone

  He reached for the phone he’d placed near the bed and picked it up. He slid a finger across the surface of it, placed the phone on his chest and relaxed back on the pillow. He sat up just a little to put an arm over my head above me, looking down at my face.

  That millimeter smile crept into two millimeters. In a very soft tone, he spoke, “Good morning, Miss Sorenson.”

  I luxuriated in the way he always said that lately. Like a whisper of desire flowing out from between his teeth.

  I lazily fluttered my eyes open and smiled, breathing out, “Good morning, Mr. Blackbourne.”

  His leg slowly glided over until his ankle covered mine, hooking them together. The action set off several nervous and happy explosions in my very core. I couldn’t look at his face, and my first instinct was to again bury my face somewhere, and his body was the closest. Even with him sitting up slightly, I rolled into him, my face meeting his ribs once more.

  He slid down, going back to the position he’d been in, and also to put a hand at my back. The phone slipped from his chest to between us. We paused for a moment, all except his hand, which smoothed up and down along my spine. Slowly the pressure of his hand deepened, rousing instead of relaxing.

  “I have a notion to call off the entire day,” Mr. Blackbourne said in the same quiet tone.

  I murmured against his chest. “Tempting...”

  He sighed, his breath pressing at my hair, the warmth radiating through me. “But I believe Luke mentioned you wanted a house.”

  The way he said it made me go queasy and delighted. Somehow, it made me focus on the reality of it all. It wasn’t like we could just find a house and all move in together. Who was going to pay for it? I couldn’t just ask for a house and think we’d just get one. “It sounds horribly selfish. I don’t know how...”

  The hand from my back drifted around and gently cupped at my jawline. My eyes had drifted to staring lazily at his body, but he nudged me until I was looking into those gray eyes.

  “We just have a few things to settle first,” he said in same casual tone he’d whispered good morning. Like this wasn’t a bad idea and it was only a few errands before we could do this.

  His confidence and comfortable demeanor somehow magically drew meto a place inside myself. I just knew he’d make it happen. I didn’t know how, but he’d do it.

  “There was a bit of a mishap yesterday,” I said. “With Nathan...”

  “I know,” he said. “But a lot has happened with him since then. And I do have some personal information you should know about.” He nudged me gently and I sat up. The blanket fell away. I looked around the room, partially wondering where the others had gone in the night. When did he get here to get into bed with me?

  Mr. Blackbourne sat up, his knees lifting slightly as he turned on the bed. He put bare feet on the floor. The cotton pajama bottoms he wore were black and, in an odd way, reminded me of the fancy slacks Victor wore often. And then I caught a small label at his waist noting the brand: Ermenegildo Zegna.

  Not a brand I’d heard of before, but the fancier name made me think it to be rather expensive.

  He twisted slightly to look back at me. I realized where I was staring and looked away. I slid my feet up closer to my butt so I could wrap my arms around my knees. “What happened?” I asked.

  His lips opened and then he paused slightly, an eyebrow going up and he blinked a few times. This was odd to see without his glasses. His handsome face was angled in such a way it reminded me of when I considered Luke could be a model. Yet Mr. Blackbourne seemed to have that same quality. “When your step mother was still in the hospital, we sent Marie over so she could see her.”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “While she was there, we overheard your mother telling Marie about your real mother.”

  It was months ago. I raised an eyebrow. “Did she say anything we didn’t know?”

  “We honestly considered the possibility, given that she tends to twist reality, that any information she said could be false.” He twisted more until his knee was up on the bed and he leaned toward me a little. “She mentioned your mother was actually a cousin of your father.”

  “A cousin?” The information was a little shocking. However, I understood why he cautioned it with warning she could be lying. It was hard to feel anything when there was a strong chance it wasn’t true at all. It simply left me with questions.

  “Do you remember your father’s parents at all?”

  “I think I remember them visiting when I was younger. But I don’t remember anyone else.” I paused. “Part of me isn’t sure if I remember or if Marie told me. I know my grandfather used to watch baseball games. You didn’t mention it to me?”

  He nodded slowly. “We didn’t know if it should be believed, and it was very little to go on, anyway. We tried to look up your family on his side, but we were having trouble locating them. And during the time, we didn’t want to bring it up with everything else going on.”

  I reached up absently to scratch at my cheek. I couldn’t blame them for being careful with anything she had said. “I’m not sure I would be ready to believe it, either.”

  “We can’t dismiss the possibility entirely, but there’s more going on now.” He reached out for my hand, tugging it away from my body and squeezed it. Looking into my eyes, he spoke. “Dr. Green said you enjoy Frappuccino, I believe? Shall we pick a couple up on the way in to the high school?”

  Despite the surprising information about my father and this supposed cousin, his gentle tone and offer for getting something to drink made me feel like we weren’t about to discuss my family’s dark secrets. We were merely about to go on an outing together.

  Should it bother me that the information about my real mother didn’t concern me much?

  Somehow being out from under the thumbs of my step mother and my real father made the harder parts of life a little easier to deal with. If I knew the truth, what would change? My mother was still dead. My step mother and real father didn’t want me. I’d still be with the guys.

  Knowing the truth wouldn’t lead to any consequence other than knowing what really happened.

  But part of me was still curious, and somewhat afraid of the truth. I hid this feeling from him, agreeing to get up and get going.

  What if I was wrong with it not changing my life?

  ♥♥♥

  Later, Mr. Blackbourne and I were in the silver BMW. He wore his usual gray suit, white shirt, maroon tie combination. I hadn’t needed to shower, since I’d bathed last night. He changed in the closet while I was getting ready. We’d slipped out of the house without coming across anyone.

  I wore a school uniform, with a patch on the jacket, something that Gabriel had designed months ago for themselves. Instead of pants like the others wore, I wore a gray pleated skirt. The white shirt underneath the jacket was kept unbuttoned at the collar for easier access to the cell phone tucked away in my bra.

  The outfit was surprisingly comfortable.

  “People will notice,” I said, smoothing my fingers over the patch. “With me like this.”

  “Part of the plan,” he said. “Today, we want people to know you’re with us.”

  No complaints from me for that. Many suspected I was, anyway, and I had to lie and say I wasn’t. The change would be interesting, especially since it would be my first day back.

  He glanced over at me. “But you haven’t said anything about your sister. Do you think she knows?”

  On the drive, we’d stopped by a Starbucks, where he purchased a Mocha Frappuccino for me and some sort of herbal tea for himself. He picked up a protein box as well. We split the fruit and hardboiled eggs between us. He tried my drink, but puckered after a couple of sips, saying it was very sweet to him.

  During that time, he talked about what was happening with Nathan, how he was coerced into letting Danielle and Marie spend the night, and then further was asked to get Marie, and Danielle, out of school in exchange for information on my mother�
��s real name.

  “She’s been in the house with my mother, and monitored, right?” I asked Mr. Blackbourne.

  He nodded, focusing on the road. “This is the sort of thing we hope to hear about. We’ve been listening.”

  “I’m not sure how she’d learn without someone overhearing as well.” I paused. “But...maybe...”

  “Maybe what?”

  “Maybe she remembers a name. Maybe she remembers more than I do about relatives coming by the house. But if she died...there’s no way she would remember meeting her. She was one when I was born.”

  He was quiet for a moment, considering the thought. “What do you think about giving them what they want?”

  “I don’t know why Danielle wants out of school. Wouldn’t her parents notice?”

  “I imagine she wants more than just being allowed out of school,” he said. “This shouldn’t have been a surprise. We knew about her getting called in to see Mr. Hendricks, but it was the same questions and empty threats.”

  “We should have stopped those before.”

  He frowned. “And we should have done much more. We did coach her a bit about what to say to Hendricks and let her know the threats were empty. Your sister should have been monitored at school more closely and whenever she left the house.”

  “I didn’t know she was leaving the house.”

  “It isn’t often, but we monitored where she was going. Our concern for her safety and catching information didn’t extend to following her everywhere. Just within the house.” He looked over at me quickly. “I think we failed you there.”

  “There was no way to know,” I said. “I should have been in touch with her to find out what I could. We can’t prepare for everything. You can’t put cameras up at Danielle’s house, too.” As for her getting called into Hendricks, that was something I should have known would happen. If I wasn’t there, he was going to ask her about me.

  He pulled to a stop, waiting for a red light to change. “Let’s wait to talk about the rest when we’re with the others.”

  Mr. Blackbourne and I remained quiet for the rest of the drive to Ashley Waters.

  It was difficult to put out of my mind the family issues I was facing, with Marie knowing about my real mother, with Danielle possibly knowing the same information and using her to get what she wanted. I think that bothered me more than learning the possibility of who my mother really was.

  That Marie wouldn’t come tell me when she figured it out. That she went to Nathan, not me. Maybe it was all Danielle. Maybe it was a trick. That’s what had me concerned. Thinking how they could manipulate us by withholding information showed me we needed to protect them from learning anything else about what the Academy could really do.

  Ashley Waters High School’s drab brown brick building hadn’t changed much since a few weeks ago. The bushes along one side appeared dead mid-winter, blending in with the brickwork.

  Mr. Blackbourne parked where the student lot and the teacher lot met, split only by a drab grass-covered divide one could easily drive over. Students were already arriving, parking in prime positions to escape easily during the after-school rush.

  When he parked, he rushed around, opening my door for me before I had to chance to even release the seatbelt. I appreciated the nicety, something I was getting used to as part of the culture in the South.

  “Should we be concerned about...what people think?” I asked. “I mean with me arriving with you?”

  “Not today,” he said simply. “When we walk in, stay by my side. You’re officially one of us now.”

  One of them.

  I swallowed and smoothed my hands across the outfit once, making sure everything was neat. Nerves electrified inside me. I’d already been gone a week since winter break ended and school started again. Unfortunately, I wasn’t invisible any more, and I thought of a few people who might ask questions.

  And everyone would notice the uniform. The boys being in uniform was one thing. Adding in a girl was another.

  And I’d be the only one.

  I trusted this was part of a plan of some sort. There was nothing they did that wasn’t part of a plan. I had a feeling this wasn’t for students, though. Our focus was Mr. Hendricks. This was meant as some sort of intimidation. Some sort of shake up.

  I didn’t carry a bookbag, but Mr. Blackbourne collected a messenger bag from the trunk of the car. Once he had it strapped to his shoulder, he and I walked toward the entrance of Ashley Waters High School.

  The closer we got, the more I felt the need to walk behind Mr. Blackbourne, to appear more like a student.

  When I tried to slow down, he slowed as well. He kept his head high, focused on the doors. “Chin up, Miss Sorenson,” he said with a little more power behind his tone. “By my side...”

  I matched his pace and kept my head up, but my eyes flitted everywhere, never staying on anything very long. I wanted to appear confident, but I felt like an outsider returning where I wasn’t wanted. Maybe it was the jitteriness I was feeling from the coffee and sugar rush, but I was more nervous than I realized I would be.

  Mr. Blackbourne chose an entryway that cut through the very center of the hallway where students often collected before school. I didn’t look at most of them but sensed eyes on us as Mr. Blackbourne turned toward the main offices.

  My eyes blurred a bit as we moved. I sucked in a breath, holding it for as long as I could. Mr. Blackbourne opened the door to the office for me, and I went in.

  Mr. Blackbourne approached the front desk, pausing there for the woman sitting behind it. I recognized her, although I didn’t know her name.

  She nodded once to Mr. Blackbourne, acknowledging him. “I left a packet for you on your desk in your office,” she said. She handed him a clipboard she had ready beside her. “And I also need your autograph.”

  He took it up, signed and gave it back to her. There was a pause for just a split moment before he turned from the desk, heading toward the right side hallway.

  I followed. I sensed the woman behind the desk following me with her eyes.

  I was definitely being noticed. When he paused, I considered he was possibly waiting for others in the office to notice as well. As I’d thought, this wasn’t really for other students. This was to shake up staff.

  The hallway was narrow, but we were soon at the door of the office Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green shared.

  Mr. Blackbourne opened the door for me. Once I was in, he closed it. He remained near the door, his back to it. He slipped his hands into his pockets and waited.

  I waited with him, anticipating we would leave in a minute.

  The room only had a few subtle differences since the last time I was here. Dr. Green had added an origami lion on top his desktop monitor, next to frogs and bears he’d placed there before.

  The radio that had been on top of the cabinet was gone, replaced by a Bluetooth speaker. Next to it was a vase with a few stemmed roses.

  I waited in the silence with Mr. Blackbourne. When he checked in with me, I raised an eyebrow, asking silently how long we were waiting.

  He showed me his hand, quietly counting down seconds.

  Not long.

  His desk held the packet that had been left on top of one of his organizers. “Did you need to look at it?” I asked quietly.

  “This afternoon,” he said.

  Must not be that important. I breathed slowly, allowing my nerves to settle and for him to let me know when to make the next move.

  After a few more moments, he opened the door and held it. “Shall we?” he asked.

  He was waiting for something here in the office. Or someone. I had a gut feeling I knew who it was.

  I stepped out into the hallway. He closed the door behind himself and then, at a pace a little slower than I expected, guided me back toward the entryway of the office.

  I followed close to his arm, keeping my hands to my sides, and minding to keep my head raised.

  We walked slowly out of the hall ju
st as Mr. Hendricks was crossing to the front desk. He wore a brown suit, matching his thick pair of glasses. His bald head reflecting the light from yellowed fluorescent bulbs over us.

  And Ms. Wright was at the desk as well, signing the same clipboard document Mr. Blackbourne had signed. She wore a turtleneck, making her head appear to hover over her wide-framed body. She looked up shortly at Mr. Blackbourne and then at me.

  Mr. Blackbourne did a very short acknowledgement of Mr. Hendricks and Ms. Wright before moving on past him toward the main door.

  That moment stretched for me, feeling Mr. Hendricks’s gaze shift from Mr. Blackbourne to myself.

  This was what it was all about. I was back. I was wearing the uniform. I was beside Mr. Blackbourne.

  I was with them.

  I was one of them.

  This confirmed everything he suspected about me from the beginning but could never prove.

  I kept my head up, my focus returning immediately to Mr. Blackbourne. I was here because Mr. Blackbourne and others wanted me to be here, but I was with them, under their protection.

  They couldn’t hurt me. The moment Mr. Hendricks retreated, I knew he couldn’t do a thing about what I was wearing, where I was going or what I was doing. He couldn’t affect my grades or call my parents. There was nothing left for him to threaten me with.

  I floated out of the office alongside Mr. Blackbourne. My confidence grew with every step. No longer was I his shadow, hoping to go unnoticed. It wasn’t just about wearing the uniform. It was about being with him, directly. There was no question now.

  He took a long route around the school, at a steady pace. Mr. Blackbourne passed through hallways starting to become populated with students, and through the cafeteria. My eyes blurred, unseeing the reaction, but feeling it as we moved. The number of eyes that focused on me increased as we passed through more populated areas. Voices rose behind us. Questions. Curious comments.

  He was making sure everyone knew.

  One of Us

  Music Room B’s chairs were precariously stacked high on one side of the room, enough so that some of those stacks leaned over. I wasn’t sure if anyone else actually used the room besides us if they were still stacked after a week of school being back in session. The linoleum floor’s corners were layered with dust. The chalkboard still had dusty chalk outlines from months ago.