I braked in the drive; he jogged over and slid into the passenger seat. "Take me to the nearest motel."
I waited for more. It never came. Since there was no way I was taking Zeke to a stupid motel, I backed into the street and soon left Cheyenne behind. Zeke still didn't speak, so I did. "Why aren't you staying with your dad? I know he wants you to."
"He might, but Melita sure as hell doesn't."
My chin hit the steering wheel. "What'd she say to you?"
"She told me that Dad's story--brave sheriff, dead wife, kidnapped son--had won him a lot of media attention and thousands of followers. If I show up now, he'll not only look like a fool for accusing the wrong man, he'll lose the sympathy vote, which may impact the outcome of the election. And if that isn't enough, there's my life of petty crime to consider."
"That's just stupid."
"Is it? Melita also told me that she and Dad are keeping their engagement a secret for that same reason. She said if she has to make sacrifices, then I should have to make them, too. She suggested boarding school, the farther away the better, and then she gave me this." He showed me four crisp hundred dollar bills.
She'd bribed him? "You need to call your dad, because I can't imagine him agreeing with any of this."
"According to her, he's all heart with no head for the business of campaigning. She said he wouldn't be where he is today if she wasn't behind the scenes, choreographing everything to his advantage." He shifted in the seat to better see me. "I believe that, by the way. He hated running for sheriff even though he won by a landslide every single time. I guess that's why I was so surprised to hear he wants be governor. It just didn't seem like something he'd willingly do. Melita told me she'd handle telling Dad, and once he's in office, we'll figure out where to go from there."
Though I kept my eyes on the road, my attention was on Zeke. "So you're going to let her push you around?"
He shrugged.
"Oh my God. What is wrong with you? The Zeke I knew would never--"
"The Zeke you knew no longer exists, okay? So if that's what you think you're getting--"
"'Getting'? There's no 'getting' to this."
Zeke's face flushed pink. "I didn't mean that the way it sounded."
"Then what did you mean?"
"I'm trying to tell you that the guy you think you love isn't the guy you really do love. No, wait. That came out wrong."
I honestly couldn't think of an answer to that. Did he suspect I'd been lying about my feelings for him? If so, I was a far worse actress than my drama teacher knew.
He groaned and tried again. "You think you love a certain guy, but the thing is, you don't. I'm not who I was."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. How did love get into this? I said I was over that stupid crush."
"Yeah, well, last night Dax told me you're not."
"Why? Did you ask him?"
"Not exactly."
Huh? "I believe we've already established that my brother is a moron."
Zeke got very still. "So you really are over me?" He sounded so serious.
"Um…yes?"
"Was that a question?"
I wasn't sure how to answer, so I went with a lie. "It was the truth, and I'm very sorry Dax told you otherwise. As usual, he doesn't have a clue."
Zeke heaved a sigh of relief. "I knew it!"
"Is that why you don't want to stay with us? Because you thought I loved you?"
"Dax said you aren't thinking straight because of your feelings for me. Warned me not to take advantage of them. I told him I didn't think of you that way."
"I can't believe he's acting like this."
"It's because he thinks I'm crazy, Skylar. 'Wolf-crazy,' he called it."
"He calls me that, too."
Zeke frowned. "Since when?"
"Doesn't matter. My point is that he doesn't always know what he's talking about."
"You don't think I'm dangerous, do you?"
"Of course not. Dax is in full-blown big-brother mode. It's rare, but it happens."
Zeke got very quiet for a few miles. "I wish I was the same guy you first fell for."
"Why? There's nothing wrong with you now."
"You're such an innocent. I don't want to spoil that."
"I am not innocent," I said. "While you've been gone, I've matured. And hearing what happened to you, well, it's aged me even more. So forget about tiptoeing around me because you think I'm delicate or naïve or fragile. I can handle anything, starting with a phone call to my parents to ask if you can stay at the house."
His grin lit up his whole face. "Thanks. Want to eat a burger or something when we get to Ridge Rock?" He waved the money. "I'm buying."
"In or to-go?"
"To-go. If Dax is home walking the floor he might be hungry. It'll be my peace offering."
"My first inclination is to let him starve, but I'll call to see if he's there." I reached into my purse for my cell.
Dax answered on the second ring, surprising me. "Where are you?"
"On my way there. Zeke's still with me. He's not going to stay with his dad."
"Why not?"
"Long story, which we'll tell you in a few minutes. Do you want us to bring dinner?"
"Whatever."
I ended the call before he could say anything else. "He's home."
"Listen, Skylar. I don't want a confrontation with your brother when he's about to leave for college. Your parents are probably stressed enough. How do you feel about that, by the way? Going to miss him?"
I gripped the steering wheel a little harder. "Actually, I'm minding it less with every passing minute."
Chapter Five
We got the hamburgers as promised, two for each guy and one for me, along with onion rings, French fries and shakes. I drove right into the garage and made it all the way to the back door before the presence of our black Toyota, parked in its usual spot, registered. I stopped short; Zeke rear-ended me.
"What?"
"My parents are home."
"Early."
"Yeah." For some reason, my heart beat a little faster, something it was doing a lot lately. Now why would Mom and Dad cut short their anniversary getaway? I could only think of one reason: Dax. Maybe they wanted to spend time with him since was leaving tomorrow. Yeah. Had to be it. "They'll be so excited to see you."
Zeke didn't look so sure. I elbowed him and went inside. He followed.
"Mom? Dad? Where are you guys?"
"In here."
I set the food on the table and followed my mom's voice into the living room. I saw her sitting in her favorite chair, wearing her weekend clothes: jeans and an oversized button-front shirt. Her auburn hair, worn short, looked a little messier than usual for a Saturday.
"Don't tell me, let me guess," I said. "You've finally realized your first born is going off to college, and you can't bear the thought of it."
Mom laughed. "Can't fool you." Clearly not surprised to see Zeke, she stood as she talked and opened her arms to him. "I'm so glad you're back, Zeke." She kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder. "You know we all tried to stay positive, but secretly feared the worst."
Dad nodded his agreement and offered Zeke a handshake. "Dax gave us a bare-bones version of what happened, and I have to say, you're one lucky guy to have made it out of that alive."
"Yes sir."
"We have food." I pointed to the kitchen. "Enough for you two if you're hungry."
Mom shook her head. "We just ate, actually."
I suddenly got a strange vibe. Was her smile a little strained? And why'd she keep flicking those looks at Dad? Belatedly, I realized the atmosphere of the room was so thick I could've cut it with Zeke's knife. Something wasn't right. Had they really come home to see Dax? Or had he butted in again and called them? At once, I knew that's what had happened. "Where's Dax?"
"Probably in his room packing, something he should've started days ago. But you know how he is."
"I'll let him know the food's here." I turned and d
arted up the stairs, ready to murder my bro, who'd spouted off one time too many. Not that there was anything wrong with him telling our parents Zeke was there. They were going to find that out soon enough, after all. I just had the feeling that he'd said more than he should've. Why else would they be acting so weird? I stuck my head through his doorway. "Dax?"
"In here." He backed out of his closet, his arms full of T-shirts. One look at me made him toss them onto the bed and square off. "You should've made him stay in Cheyenne."
"How could I? His stepmother-to-be as good as gave him the boot. Don't you even care what happens to him?"
"Not as much as I care what happens to my family. He's a loose cannon."
Loose cannon? Give me a break. Dax loved words, and in my opinion, should've been going for a degree in journalism instead of medicine. "Zeke is perfectly fine."
"You're completely biased where he's concerned, Sky. At the least, he's bound to have a post-traumatic stress disorder. At worst, he just plain crazy."
"Wolf-crazy? I thought that was me."
"Told you I said that, huh? What else did he say?"
"That you'd warned him to leave me alone. I can't believe you're acting like this. His werewolf days are over. He's perfectly fine now."
"Listen to yourself: 'H is werewolf days are over.'" Dax got nose-to-nose with me. "He. Was. Never. A. Werewolf."
Oh, how I wanted to slug my brother. Kept my cool, though. "Did you tell Mom and Dad about that?"
Dax hesitated. "I haven't told them much of anything beyond hinting he's had a hard time. I don't want the guy committed. I just want someone with experience handling troubled minds to keep an eye on him."
"Oh-em-gee!" Whirling, I left my ludicrous brother and stomped down the stairs.
"Did you bring the food?" he called after me.
I growled like the werewolf Zeke wasn't and fumed while we ate minutes later, just we three at the kitchen table. Zeke stared at me the whole time, clearly picking up on my fury and probably afraid I'd bite his head off if he asked what was wrong. The moment we finished eating, Dax left to go see some friends. That pretty much proved my parents hadn't come home just to spend time with him. Their questions a short time later cinched it. The four of us sat in the living room watching a documentary of Dad's choosing on the Nazi obsession with all things mystical. Without meaning to, I gave my Dad the perfect segue when I said, "How could anyone have followed Hitler? They had to know he was bonkers."
"Fear," said Zeke without hesitation. "Hitler had no mercy."
Of course I wanted to hide under a sofa pillow. How could I have asked that out loud?
"Dax told us very little about your nightmare," said Dad, "but it was enough to know you've had a hard time. It must be a huge relief to finally be home."
"Yes, sir."
"I understand you went to see your dad today. How'd that go?"
"Fine."
Mom gave him a minute to say more. He didn't. "I'm surprised you didn't stay with him. I've heard he has a lovely new home."
"He's really busy right now. I don't want to distract him from his campaign."
Dad and Mom exchanged a puzzled look, but didn't ask any more questions about it. Instead, Dad ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair and changed the subject. "What are your plans, son?"
"I need to finish high school."
Marveling at how stilted the conversation was, I opened my mouth to mention the possibility of his continuing at Walker. But I never got a chance to speak.
"I'm on the board of Westminster Higher Learning in Cheyenne. I could put in a good word for you, if you like. You'd be close to your dad without, er, distracting him."
Zeke nodded as if that were a real option and then jumped up from the couch. "Can I borrow your bathroom?"
"Sure," I told him, wondering why on earth he'd even ask. The moment he left, I confronted my parents. "What is going on here? You're both acting like Zeke's someone you just met instead of a guy you've known forever."
"He's obviously changed." Dad's high cheekbones looked more ruddy than usual."And I'm not talking about personal appearance, though I will admit the tattoos are rather alarming. And does that earring mean he's gay?"
Oh my God. Had my highly educated, liberal dad really just asked that?
"That's obsolete, dear." Mom focused on me. "What your father means is there's simply no telling what his kidnappers have exposed him to--alcohol, drugs, sex. Could be any or all. Naturally Dax is very worried about him, as are we. PTSD is very common after an ordeal such as this. He needs professional help."
"All Zeke needs now are friends who believe in him."
"Oh, honey, it's way more complicated than that. Haven't you noticed how on edge he is? I think this documentary we're watching has resurrected some ugly memories."
"Then we should turn it off." I grabbed the remote and did the honors. "Believe it or not, Mom, some people actually work through their problems on their own. Zeke's perfectly fine." And speaking of… I glanced toward the door, suddenly fearful that he might be lurking in the hall, listening to my parents. I got up and left the living room to check on him, but he wasn't in either bathroom.
Panicked, I ran to the laundry room, where he'd left his backpack. It wasn't there. With a squeal of pure frustration, I grabbed my purse off the kitchen table and ran out the back door. If he'd heard my parents just then or even if he hadn't, he was probably trying to get as far away from the Walker house as possible. But where would he go?
I got into my car and shut the door, sitting in the dark garage for several indecisive seconds before closing my eyes and focusing really, really hard on Zeke, a tactic I'd used in the past with surprisingly good results. The image of a swing, swaying in a breeze, popped into my head--the neighborhood playground. I stuck the key in the ignition and started the engine even though I could've run there. It was barely a half mile away, after all.
Was I a psychic? Not by a long shot, but sometimes I could tap into what I called 'Skyntuition.' I'd apparently inherited more than my share of it from my ancestors, which came in very handy every now and then and especially tonight.
The playground, which consisted of a jogging trail, a basketball goal, a couple of picnic tables and some swings, looked deserted by the light of an almost-full moon. My heart sank, but I drove into the parking lot anyway and sat for a sec before I spotted him, sitting in the shadow of the ancient oak tree he leaned against. Though he'd obviously seen me, he didn't get up and run away or anything. I took that as a good sign and got out of the car. I reached him moments later and sat in the grass nearby.
"How'd you get here so fast?" I asked.
"I have super powers. How'd you find me so fast?"
"I have super powers, too. Look, Zeke, Dax and my parents will come around once they've spent some time with you. I know you know that."
"Yeah, and by then, your relationship with them will be toast."
"So?"
"So go home."
"Not without you."
Now he sighed. "I really think I should stay someplace else tonight, and I'd appreciate it if, just this once, you wouldn't argue or go to battle for me. Maybe we all need a minute."
"But--"
"Don't be a brat, okay? I'm fine. I just want to be alone."
"For real?"
"Yes. And you need to be with your parents when Dax leaves tomorrow. Your mom jokes about it, but I know she's going to miss him."
He had that right. Dax was the child who always did what he was supposed to do. I, on the other hand, usually tried something else first. "Where are you going to sleep?"
"Don't know. Any suggestions?"
"A friend of mine works at the Ridge Rock Motel on the weekends. It's old but clean."
"Okay." He started getting up.
"I'll drive you."
"Whatever."
I picked up his backpack and handed it to him. It took ten short minutes to get to the motel, which consisted of a one-story row o
f rooms and a gravel parking lot. My phone rang right after I turned off the engine. I saw it was Mom. "I'm fine," I told her. "Be there shortly."
I went into the office with Zeke while he signed in and paid his forty-nine dollars for a single room. Charis, who'd be a senior at Walker, greeted me by name and gave us a curious look as she handed over the room key. When we got to it, Zeke wouldn't let me come in. "This door is in plain sight of the office, and I know that girl's thinking the worst. I don't want to tank your reputation, too. Go home."
I huffed my exasperation. "Fine." I turned away, but then spun to face him again. "You're not going to bolt the minute I drive off, are you?"
"No."
"Swear?"
"I swear."
"Okay." With a nod, I left him.
The minute I got home, I told my parents where Zeke was and then headed upstairs. I stayed in my room for a while, just thinking. Then I took a long bath, my mind in a whirl of uncertainty. How could I stop my parents from obsessing over Zeke? Instead of being wolf-crazy, as Dax put it, he was remarkably normal, especially considering what he'd been through. Somehow, I had to open my parents' eyes to the facts. Somehow, I had to make them see things as I saw them.
With a groan, I slid down in the water, completely submerging myself. What an ungrateful daughter I'd become. Enter one ex-werewolf and I was suddenly willing to sacrifice the life my parents had worked to make for me. At barely eighteen, I lived in their home and ate food they put on their table. I wore clothes they bought and drove a car they'd given me. I definitely owed them for life's comforts. They deserved my respect and obedience in return.
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