Pretty Monster

Home > Other > Pretty Monster > Page 36
Pretty Monster Page 36

by Somers, Jill


  Without saying a word, Quinn reached into her pocket, pulled out the key to Savannah’s jail cell, and unlocked it. She cracked open the door, remaining seated.

  “Kind of you to rescue me,” Savannah said in a lightly sarcastic tone, “but I’m sure you know that I’m not going anywhere.”

  Quinn stared at her, just as confused by Savannah’s true intentions as she had once been by both Dash and Reese’s. “He’s confused. How could you not know that? How could you not want to help him understand? If your story was true?”

  Savannah smiled sadly. “Quinn, I lied to my son his entire life. I did terrible things both for him and for myself. I was no hero. What I said may have been true, but I could never help him understand the things I’ve done. No one could. There’s no justification for them.”

  “Even if there’s not, you could at least tell him that you love him.”

  “And I will, one day. Once I’ve paid my penance down here. Once I’ve proven to him that I’m capable of more than just the words.”

  Quinn sighed, running a hand through her hair. In a way, everything Savannah was saying made sense to her. After all, it wasn’t long ago that she had been in the same position as Savannah, with Angel on the other side of the bars.

  But understanding how Savannah felt didn’t help Dash.

  “No one’s seen Reese in months,” Quinn said, deciding to change the subject. “He wasn’t at the summit. He hasn’t come back to Siloh.”

  “I know. I helped him escape. Before the summit.”

  Quinn groaned, disgusted all over again. “He’s such a coward. You both are.”

  “I know that. I’ve always known it. You see, Quinn, you can’t choose your children. You can only choose to protect them. I always knew that Dash would be okay. He was so much stronger than either of us. And that left Reese. And it left me doing what I had to do.”

  Quinn shook her head. “You didn’t have to do the things you did. I can’t accept that.”

  “Wouldn’t you have done the same? For Rory? If it came to that?”

  It was such an impossible question to ask. Rory was good; she was nothing but good; Quinn would have never had to do anything to protect her from her own demons. But she did see Savannah’s point. She would have stopped at nothing to protect Rory; how was Savannah’s situation any different?

  “I would do anything for Rory,” Quinn told her. “And if you’d do the same for Dash, all it takes is one simple thing. Go to him.”

  • • •

  As it turned out, Savannah did go to Dash. Quinn wasn’t there for the conversation; in fact, she was utterly shocked when Dash told her that it had happened.

  “Do you think she was telling the truth?” Quinn asked him. “Do you believe her?”

  He swallowed, considering his words carefully. “I think I do. I don’t know that it’s enough. It helps—really, it does. But the story I told you, about her and the landlord—all the new stories, about the things she did for Crowley, whether they were out of fear or not—they’re still there. They’re still her.”

  Quinn nodded. “She’s weak. You always knew that. We both did. I guess the thing I’m just starting to understand is that there’s a certain weakness that comes with parenting—a weakness when it comes to caring for your own children. A weakness that’s almost a strength in and of itself.”

  He gazed at her in that way that only he ever had—that way that she loved to see him look at her—like she was the only person like her in the world, the only person for him. “Thank you,” he said softly. “Not just for your words… but for going to her. She told me it was you that convinced her to see me.”

  She smiled softly. “It hasn’t been easy for either of us. Me without Rory, you without Savannah. I figured at least one of our situations was resolvable.”

  “I wish I could bring you Rory. I wish I could do more for you. But we know she’s happy, and we know she loves you. There is one thing I can do for you, though. If you’ll let me.”

  She cocked her head to the side, curious.

  “Follow me.”

  As they began to walk, she thought he was leading her to the waterfall. They went deep into the island, past the buildings, new and old. But they didn’t go all the way to the waterfall. Instead, they took a turn she had never taken before: toward the horse stable.

  She glanced over at Dash, confused, as he led her toward one of the fenced-in paddocks. Inside of the paddock, galloping from fence to fence, was a horse she had never seen before. It was a jet-black beast, utterly breathtaking. From the moment she saw it, she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

  Standing along the fence line were two people Quinn didn’t recognize. Cowboys, from the looks of them. One was tall, middle-aged, with a plaid shirt, a cowboy hat, and a belt with a big, bronze buckle. The other was a boy—his son, most likely. The age of Rory… the big, blue eyes and soft, blond hair of Kurt. Just looking at the boy hurt her heart.

  “Mr. Crowe,” Dash said to the man, extending a hand. “Thank you for coming. Travel safely?”

  “We sure did,” the man said with a chuckle, shaking Dash’s hand. He had a thick accent Quinn couldn’t quite place. “Her, on the other hand…”

  All eyes went back to the horse, who was still galloping as fiercely and wildly as ever. Quinn couldn’t imagine trying to ship a beast like that. They probably had to sedate her. Just like me, she thought.

  “Quinn,” Dash said, turning back to look at her. “This is John Crowe. And this is his son, John Jr. They have a horse farm in New Zealand where they breed and train horses for the racing circuit.”

  Quinn looked from John to John Jr., clueless as to where this was going.

  “This horse,” Dash continued, “is a filly—a young female. She’s just two years old. She was fast—one of the fastest John had—but they couldn’t control her. ” He grinned slightly. “She didn’t want to be tamed.”

  Quinn was starting to put it all together, but she still could barely believe her ears. Dash had bought her a horse?

  “It was this or the glue factory,” John told her, voice regretful but pragmatic. It was his career; she understood that. He had to make a living. “We always try to find ’em homes, but it’s hard. She’s a lucky one. Most of the duds aren’t so fortunate.”

  So, he hadn’t bought her a horse, though she was sure the travel bill hadn’t been cheap. Still, he’d rescued one, which was even more shocking to her. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it; she did. But where was this coming from? Was this filly supposed to be some kind of replacement in her heart for Rory?

  “What on Earth made you think of doing this?” she asked Dash, shaking her head. “Of all things?”

  “I think it was her name that got him,” John told her, smiling a charming, Southern gentleman sort of smile.

  “Her name?”

  “Siren’s Song.”

  Quinn felt the tears pricking at her eyes. She used to be so good at holding back tears. Her entire life. Now it felt like every day was a thunderstorm.

  It was just so kind, so incredible, that she had someone in her life who loved her so much, he would do this for her. It didn’t even make sense. It was a crazy idea. But he had heard the horse’s name, he had heard the situation, he had known how lonely Quinn was—he had just known.

  He had been right.

  “You guys weren’t afraid to come here?” she asked John and John Jr., wiping a tear from her cheek and reaching out to hold Dash’s hand. He squeezed hers tightly. “To come to Siloh?”

  “You kidding?” John asked. He put a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Junior, you tell her.”

  The boy smiled shyly up at Quinn, and those blue eyes killed her, but she forced herself to smile back at him. “I begged Daddy to let me come here,” he told her. “All of my friends wanna come, too.”

  “Haley’s been working on the paperwork,” Dash told Quinn. “The logistics. But there’s thousands of people trying to come and see this place. Some
want to offer us their support. Some want to see us in action. Some just want to see the unbelievable story for themselves.”

  She had known that Siloh had been preparing for civilian visits. She had known that the photographers, videographers, newscasters, and journalists would be upon them soon. Maybe the adventurers—the daredevils. But this? Families; children? It blew her mind that they weren’t afraid. They didn’t think of it as an island full of monsters. At least, not dangerous ones.

  “Well, we’ve got some cleaning up to do,” John told them, “and then I believe a Mr. Trent Taylor was going to show us around the island before we take our leave. It was a pleasure meeting both of you, though. You’re a mighty fine couple.”

  He tipped his hat to both of them, and John Jr. did the same, leaving Quinn to stare up at Dash in awe.

  “I don’t know anything about horses,” she told him, shaking her head.

  “You didn’t know anything about kids, either. And you did a beautiful job with the one that found her way to you.”

  • • •

  She didn’t have any interest in riding the filly. She didn’t have any interest in keeping her locked up. In fact, when Dash headed back inside and she stared out at the crazed creature, she made up her mind to open the gate entirely.

  She might not be a horse trainer, but she understood what it was like to be treated the way that horse had been treated. And she knew all that horse really wanted was to be free.

  So, she opened the gate and let her run free. She wouldn’t go far; she couldn’t. The wall might be gone, but the ocean still surrounded them. No one on the island would dare hurt something belonging to Quinn or Dash; they all had far too much respect for both of them.

  Whatever work Quinn did with that horse, whatever trust she built with her, it wasn’t going to be done in a cage. It couldn’t.

  As the filly dove past her, out of the paddock and into the woods of the island, Quinn reached out ever so slightly. Just to touch her. Just for a second.

  As her fingertips touched the thick, black fur of the creature, all of her thoughts were of Rory. Of the hole in her heart that she wasn’t sure she could ever fill.

  And that was when she heard her. For the first time in months. For the first time in far, far too long.

  It’s a good thing my parents are vets, Rory said in Quinn’s head. She ever gets sick, I think we could find some time in our schedule to come help.

  It was so good to hear Rory’s voice, so overwhelmingly perfect, that Quinn actually fell to her knees. She clutched her chest, sure something was about to fly out of it.

  Rory.

  I know. It’s been too long. I think about you all the time, Quinn. But I think for us to talk to each other, when we’re this far away, we have to be thinking about each other at the same time. In the same moment.

  Quinn wondered whether that was true. She doubted it. She felt like she spent just about every second thinking about Rory.

  I feel the same way. But neither of us does. Not really. We get to live life now. We get to be real people for the first time.

  Quinn wanted to say more. She wanted to tell the girl how much she missed her. She wanted to ask her whether her parents were good to her, whether they were deserving. She wanted to ask about school, and friends, and anything and everything.

  But she didn’t get the chance. Because for the first time in months, she was having a premonition.

  • • •

  It was Angel.

  She was in a dorm room, by the looks of it. She had shared the room with Izzo once, if Quinn recalled properly, which meant she’d had it to herself for quite some time.

  She was staring at herself in the full-length mirror. Her eyes were sad—sadder than Quinn had ever seen them. They were full of self-loathing—of hatred—but more than anything, of that sadness.

  There was something in her hand. Quinn squinted, trying to make out what is was. Reminding herself that her premonitions were lucid, she took a few steps forward.

  And that was when she saw it.

  It was a knife.

  Quinn screamed for her to stop when Angel took the knife to her wings, but Angel couldn’t hear her. It’s just a premonition, Rory assured her, it’s not real, not yet—

  But she couldn’t stop screaming. Not as the bright, scarlet blood trickled its way down those pure, white feathers. Not as Angel’s perfect wings fell to the floor.

  • • •

  She sprinted to the dormitories faster than she’d ever run before, probably faster than even Charlie could run. She heard Rory’s voice in her head, promising her everything was going to be okay, saying all sorts of things, and as glorious as it was to hear her sweet friend’s voice in her head again, she tuned it all out. All she could see was that blood on those wings.

  “Angel!” she screamed as she sprinted up the stairs. Doors along the dorm hallway opened. Faces popped out. Confused faces. Some she recognized, some she didn’t. She ignored all of them.

  Finally, she made it to Angel’s room. She tried the knob; it was locked; she turned it past the lock so sharply, it tore the door apart. She kicked through the remnants of the door, tripping her way into the room.

  Angel looked up, into the mirror, into Quinn’s reflection. The same eyes Quinn had seen in the vision. The same blood on the knife… the same blood on the wings.

  But the wings hadn’t fell to the ground yet. She hadn’t finished.

  Quinn ripped the knife from Angel’s hand, took the girl into her arms, and carried her over to the hospital.

  • • •

  Between Evelyn’s skills in the medical field and Rita’s ability to intellectually tackle the unfamiliar, they were able to save both of Angel’s wings. There was no guarantee that they would work as well as they once had, Evelyn explained, and there would be a long period of rehabilitation before Angel would get to use them again. But she felt confident that they would still work.

  They had put Angel under heavy sedation to perform the surgery, but Quinn sat at her side for hours as the sedatives wore off. As she sat, more and more people came to join her. Haley came, and Trent, and Ridley. Dash came as soon as he heard, demanding to know why Quinn hadn’t told him sooner. But he wasn’t mad. Not really. Not as much as he was proud.

  When Angel’s eyes finally opened, the first emotion Quinn recognized was confusion. Confusion as to why so many people were in her hospital room.

  But she didn’t mention that confusion. Instead she met Quinn’s eyes and said softly, “I had to fulfill my promise. I couldn’t lie to Drax.”

  Quinn shook her head, anger bubbling to the surface, not anger toward Angel but anger toward Angel’s parents. Anger toward the world that made Angel think she had to mutilate herself to fit into it.

  “I refuse to accept it,” she told Angel. “I knew Drax. Not as well as you, but I knew him. I refuse to accept that he would have wanted to you to go back to your parents—not if he knew who they really were. Not if he knew what they would want you to do to yourself.”

  “He didn’t know. I was always hopeful with him. He made me hopeful. Not like you. You remind me who they really are.”

  Quinn cast her eyes downward at that, hurt but not surprised. She could feel Dash’s eyes on her, full of the pity that she hated so much. She may have become a more hopeful person since coming to Siloh, but she had never been delusional. She had encountered hundreds of people like Angel’s parents during her time on the run. She knew the type well.

  “I’m sorry I pushed you to see them,” Quinn said. “If I had known… Look, it doesn’t matter, Angel. Just forget about them. Think about Drax. He wouldn’t want you to do this… you must know that.”

  “I know that. But he’s dead, Quinn. He was my family, and he’s dead. I only have one family left, and they’re only my family if I do this.”

  “They’re not your only family. We’re your family.”

  Angel laughed a thick, dry, sad laugh. Quinn knew what that meant.
Even if they were her family, they were nothing compared to Drax.

  “Angel,” Quinn said, stubborn, insistent. “We’re not Drax. We don’t love you the same way he loved you, and you don’t love us the same way you loved him. But we still love you. Even when we hate you we love you. Any one of us would fight for you. Any one of us would give our lives for you. And whether you’d admit it or not, I know you feel the same way about us.”

  • • •

  Angel decided to stay. She wasn’t happy about it. She wasn’t happy about much of anything those days. But she took Drax’s old job at the front desk of the dormitories, and she snapped snarky responses every time a new, doe-eyed recruit asked her questions, and she smiled out of the corner of her eye at Quinn every time she walked by. And she flew again. And that was as close to happy as Quinn could ask her to be.

  Quinn and Rory made the mutual decision to focus their thoughts on each other at the same time every day, no matter what they were doing, no matter who they were with. They would only talk for five minutes. One day, they would visit each other. For now, a daily conversation would be enough.

  Quinn and Dash were content. They weren’t as fiery and passionate as they had once been. She wasn’t as intent on revenge and rebellion; he wasn’t as intent on judgment and caution. People around them came and went, and the two of them stayed where they knew they would remain content. Siloh.

  One day, as the two of them took a swim by their waterfall, Quinn decided that maybe she could handle just a little bit more. Maybe it was time for her to reach out and take the options she finally had. Maybe it was time for her to see the world the way it was meant to be seen for the very first time.

  “So, I hear you have this really badass ability,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck and curling her legs around his back, light as a feather in the water. “Something about teleportation?”

  He grinned, placing his own hands around her waist and spinning her around him ever so slightly. “I’m a little rough around the edges, but I could certainly use the practice. I think the better question is—where would you have us go?”

 

‹ Prev