by Ellery Kane
“He was so excited, Lex. He couldn’t stop talking.” Slowing to a walk, Quin turned to face me. “I wish I could feel the same. I mean, I know he’s different now, but I just can’t help but wonder what my mom would think. Sometimes, I worry I’m betraying her.”
“I think your mom would want you to be happy, and if that means making your dad a part of your life again, I’m sure she’d understand.” I resisted my overwhelming urge to caution Quin.
“I do want him in my life, but at the same time, I’m … afraid.”
I took Quin’s hand in mine. “I know it’s different, but when my dad came back here, I was scared too. Still am. We’re in it together, right?”
Quin smiled at me. “Right.”
CHAPTER THIRTY - SEVEN
THE ROCKS
AS MAX PULLED INTO THE CUL-DE-SAC, I could hardly breathe. My giddy anticipation of home vanished with that picture of Emma and Quin, replaced by an agonizing combination of ache and dread. My welcoming committee—my father, Elana, Edison, Quin, and Artos—awaited my arrival from the front porch.
“I called your dad while you were sleeping,” Max explained, before I opened the car door.
“How did he sound?”
“Overwhelmed. Relieved. But I didn’t tell him everything.”
I nodded.
Artos was the first to greet me, bounding toward me with childlike enthusiasm. He jumped up, pawing me in the stomach, licking my hands. “Hey, Artos,” I said, hugging his neck.
“Artos, behave.” Quin’s voice was a reprimand. Why did I feel like he was talking to me?
My father approached, his face marred with worry. “I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Me too,” he offered, wrapping me up. “I—I just can’t believe—I’m so glad you’re here.” He sighed deeply, then gasped. “Your arm! What happened?”
“I jumped out of a window.” I said it fast, hoping it would sound better. It didn’t.
“I guess there’s a lot to talk about, huh?”
I mumbled an answer. My mind was already somewhere else. Behind my father, I saw Quin. His eyes were exhausted, flattened, as if he hadn’t slept in days. I waited for him to walk toward me—he just stood there—until I couldn’t wait anymore. When I put my arms around him, I felt his breath quicken. “It seems like it’s been forever,” I whispered into his neck, inhaling him. “I have so much to tell you.”
I slid my hands under Quin’s shirt, pulling him closer. The moment I touched his warm skin, I knew something was wrong. He was tense, rigid.
“Don’t let go yet,” I pleaded softly. Putting two hands on my hips, Quin pushed himself away from me.
“I can’t believe you did this,” he hissed at me so only I could hear him. More than his words, his eyes—hard and cold—cut me to the quick. I felt like crying.
“Lex, we’ll be inside,” Elana said, rubbing my shoulder. With a reluctant glance back, my father followed Edison and Elana into the house. Max slinked in, head down, behind them, probably feeling like me—strangely out of place.
“I—I don’t understand. Why are you mad at me?” I asked Quin, trying to hide my devastation.
Quin exhaled. “I really needed you, Lex. And you weren’t here.”
“I’m sorry, but in case you haven’t heard, I was kidnapped. By Augustus. So give me a break, okay? I thought you would be … I don’t know … happy to see me. I guess that’s too much to ask.” As I spoke, I couldn’t help but picture Emma’s face. It fueled my anger.
Quin touched my arm with tenderness, but I pulled away from him. He looked down, scolded. “I am happy, Lex. But if you hadn’t run away—trying to prove some point to me or your dad—none of this would have happened. You have no idea what it’s been like here.”
“Are you forgetting why I left in the first place? You lied to me.” I sensed our ship was veering far off course, dangerously close to the rocky shore, but it seemed too late to right things. “And, for all I know, you’re still lying. I saw your press conference with Emma. Since when do you give press conferences? I never thought I’d say this, but maybe you are just like your dad.” And with that, our ship hit the rocks, splintering to pieces.
“Really? I’m like my dad? Well—news flash, Lex—you’re just like your dad, leaving right when things get tough.”
We both stared at each other, shell-shocked, stunned by the words that exploded between us.
Quin started walking down the driveway. When he reached the mailbox, he turned back to me. “And, by the way, I give press conferences since Van Sant told me that my father’s fingerprints are on the murder weapon. He’s being framed, Lex.”
Quin continued down the cul-de-sac, down the street. “Who’s leaving now?” I called after him, hoping he would turn around and say something, anything. I watched his back fade from my view until Elana came to get me.
“What happened?” She put her arm around me.
“He left.”
Elana nodded, as if she wasn’t surprised by Quin’s departure. “He’s had a pretty rough three days, Lex. You disappeared, then he found out Shelly was pregnant, and—”
Jolted, I turned to Elana, interrupting her. “I thought he knew.”
“When we got that text from your phone, Quin took it really hard. We tried to tell him it probably wasn’t you, but that didn’t seem to help. We all started to think you might be gone. I guess it was kind of like losing his mom all over again.”
“What was the text?” I asked, feeling nauseous.
Elana handed me her cell phone. “Here, you can read it yourself.”
I clicked to Elana’s text messages and found it, forwarded from Quin on October 13, the day after I followed Max.
I’m going away for a while. Please try to understand. This is just too much for me. Don’t try to find me. You won’t.
CHAPTER THIRTY - EIGHT
NATURE AND NURTURE
“LEX, WE HAVE TO CALL THE POLICE.” My father was sitting across from me, his brow furrowed. Next to him, Edison typed on his laptop, recording my story of the last three days.
“Dad, I really don’t think that’s a good idea. Augustus made it pretty clear what would happen if I implicated him.”
Edison looked up from his keyboard. “Mr. Knightley, I have to agree with you on this one. It’s best to make a report, leave a paper trail. My dad’s investigators will want to hear what happened at the Paramount. Max, we’ll want a statement from you as well.”
Max seemed surprised anyone even noticed him.
“As far as Augustus goes, my dad’s security team is already on their way here,” Edison assured me. “They’ll stay as long as you need them.”
I smirked at Edison. “When did you become so lawyerly?”
“Just comes naturally, I guess.”
Elana punched Edison playfully on the arm and giggled. “You can see not much has changed around here.”
I smiled at her, grateful for a chance to laugh. “There’s one more thing.” I fidgeted with the wire transfer receipt folded in my palm. “I found this at the Paramount. I don’t know what it is, but it looked important.”
My father leaned over Edison’s shoulder, his jaw dropping, as he read. “Wow. That’s a lot of zeroes.”
“Do you think those products are EAMs?” I wondered, finally putting my suspicions into words.
“Absolutely,” my father answered.
Edison seemed less convinced. “Probably, but all that matters is what we can prove. And this proves nothing. Even if Zenigenic is selling banned drugs, it’s not enough to win our case.”
“Quin said his father was set up. Is that what your dad believes?” I asked Edison.
“It’s a working theory.” Edison and Elana exchanged a nervous glance. “Lex, this is really hard for me to say, but I think you should know there’s a lot of evidence against Mr. McAllister. My dad is a great attorney, but this case may not be winnable, even by him.”
Despite my mistrust of Quin’s father, hearing those
words hurt. I didn’t want to be right about him. “What is the evidence?”
Edison sighed, as he set his laptop on the table. “First off, there’s the not-so-little problem of his alibi. He doesn’t remember what happened. He can’t say for certain where he was after meeting with Grimley. When police arrived on the scene, Mr. McAllister was covered in blood. Forensics matched his fingerprints to the ones on the murder weapon. And it doesn’t exactly look good that Shelly was pregnant. Dream Killer Dillard is going to have a field day with that one. She’ll say he didn’t want the baby. And—”
“There’s more?” I asked, horrified.
Edison nodded, “Unfortunately. His prior conviction for murder will probably be admissible, as proof of his modus operandi. At this point, we sort of need a miracle. Dream Killer is known for her successful prosecution of these kinds of cases.”
“Which kind?” I wondered aloud.
Edison leaned back against the sofa, his face pained. “The pregnant-wife-murdered-by-husband kind.”
Sensing I was on the verge of a breakdown, Elana jumped in. “But Edison’s dad has beaten her before, right?” She looked to Edison for support. He gave a small, uncertain nod.
“There’s something else too,” my dad added.
“Are you sure we should talk about it now?” Elana asked, tense with concern. “I think this is enough for Lex to take in.”
“It’s better if we get it all out in the open,” my dad replied. “Lex should know exactly who she’s gotten herself involved with.”
Edison quickly countered, “With all due respect, Mr. Knightley, I don’t think that’s fair to Quin.”
Annoyed and confused—Edison was defending Quin?—I interjected, “Hello, people. I’m right here. Can you stop talking about Lex like she’s not sitting in front of you?”
“Sorry.” Elana mustered a tiny, apologetic smile. For a moment, the room was silent.
“So tell me already. Just get it over with.”
Finally, my father spoke. “It involves Quin.” I could feel my stomach tighten into a hard knot. Apparently, it could get worse. “A few years after the Crim-X program was officially disbanded, a group of government researchers started to examine the genetic information collected from the participants, including Quin’s dad. What they discovered was groundbreaking. They isolated a series of genes that predicted violent behavior. George McAllister and Everett Markum, as well as many of the other men involved in the research, have those genetic markers, but the information wasn’t released to the public or their families until recently. With Quin’s dad on trial, it’s been all over the news. The study was called Prophecy.”
I sat, frozen, my mind spinning. Everyone was watching me. I snuck a glance at Max. His mouth was open. “Can they use this against Quin’s dad?” I asked Edison.
“They can try, but it’s just circumstantial.” Edison frowned at my father. “We all know genes are just one part of the puzzle. Nature and nurture, right? I certainly didn’t get this rock hard body from my dad.” He flexed his muscle. “This takes work.” My smile was fragile. Inside, I was aching. Quin’s reluctance to tell me about Prophecy made complete sense now.
My father’s expression stayed flat. “Their research suggested these genes are highly heritable, Lex. Quin probably has the same markers. It certainly would explain a lot.”
I couldn’t look at my father. If I did, I knew I would yell at him again. Instead, I got up without saying a word and retreated to my room, Artos following close behind. No one else came after me.
CHAPTER THIRTY - NINE
CRAVING
I FLOPPED DOWN ON THE BED next to Artos. Somehow, he seemed to sense my mood. He didn’t try to maul me with kisses but lay next to me, studying my face. “This is bad,” I told him. “A complete mess. I really screwed up this time. Do you think your dad will forgive me?” Artos cocked his head to the side. He seemed to consider my question.
I opened my journal and chuckled to myself as I read my last entry. Worst day ever. Yeah, right—followed by another and another and another, each more dismal than the last.
“It’s all about your perspective.” I heard George McAllister’s measured voice in my head. His words were intended to calm Shelly, after they were evicted from their first apartment in Hayward. The landlord was livid when he uncovered an Internet article about his new tenant, Inmate 243. “I’ve had a lot harder days than this one,” he offered, as Shelly pouted.
A box of their belongings between us, I had watched as Quin’s face darkened. He stopped and set his end of the box on the floor, leaving my end suspended in mid-air. “What was your worst day in prison?” he asked. His question surprised me—it was something I might’ve asked.
His father chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe it, Son, but it was the last. The last day. That was the worst. I kept thinking one of those important somebodies—whoever decided I was fit to be released—was going to change his mind.” He put his arm around Shelly. “I’d take a thousand days like this if it meant never spending another day like that.”
“Perspective,” I whispered to Artos, but my words felt hollow. When did George McAllister become the voice in my head? From the drawer in my bedside table, I removed my mother’s poetry book. Its pages were thickened with small slips of paper. Since leaving that first note to me on his birthday, Quin was secreting messages to me every so often, hidden inside my book. I unfolded the last one from just a few days ago. The time in between seemed a cruel trick: It felt like yesterday. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Hi, Sexy Lexi—Thanks for opening the window … and forgiving me. I love you. — Q.
I tossed in bed for hours that night, waiting for a knock on the window, the door to open, any sign of Quin’s return. Artos’ soft snore was the only sound I heard. I tried to imagine Quin’s arms around me, but it only made me feel more alone. To be completely honest, lying there—wondering where Quin was, knowing where he wasn’t—with my stomach churning with apprehension and regret, for the first time, I understood why Emovere was so addictive. I craved the numbness, that feeling of not feeling. For that, I would’ve put a needle in my vein.
CHAPTER FORTY
FIRST AND ONLY
A SINGLE BEAM OF SUNLIGHT pierced through my blinds, spotlighting my forehead. For a moment, I buried my head under the pillow, contemplating another day. Hoping this one might be better—could it be any worse?—I cast off my blanket, pulled back the curtains, and peeked out. The Van Sant security team was parked outside our driveway in a black SUV.
“Dad?” I peered into an empty kitchen.
Max stuck his head out of the guest room, his blond hair pointing haphazardly in all directions. “Morning,” he mumbled, groggily.
“How are you?” I asked. Despite Max’s promise, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for him to quit Eupho or String.
He shrugged. “My mom always says, ‘One day at a time.’ Of course, she’s never made it to day two.”
We both laughed. “Your dad’s in his office, by the way.”
I left Max in the kitchen, contemplating breakfast. Just as he said, I found my father sitting in his office, staring at his computer screen.
“Where’s Quin?” I asked. My mind had only one track. “I thought he would’ve been back by now.”
Sighing, my father gestured to a chair. I trudged over to it and reluctantly sat.
“After your fight with Quin the other day, I asked him to stay with Edison. He’s been sleeping there. I think it’s better this way.”
“Better for who, Dad?”
“For you, Lex. I know it’s hard for you to understand this now, but Quin is your first love. He won’t be your only love.”
“I’m not having this discussion with you again.” I bolted for the door.
“Fine. But don’t go far. An officer is on the way to get your statement.”
I sat with Max in the kitchen until he arrived—a portly man in a dark blue uniform. While I talked, the officer snuck
not-so-secret glances at his watch, probably counting the minutes until his next coffee break.
“So let me see if I follow you…” The officer gave me and my father a condescending smile. “You’re saying our newly appointed drug czar kidnapped you, drugged you with Emovere, and forced you to break into an abandoned theater, which lo and behold, is actually a super-secret Zenigenic drug manufacturing facility?”
“That’s exactly what she’s saying, Officer.” My father’s voice was stern. “Are you insinuating my daughter is a liar?”
The officer chuckled. “Emovere can do some funny stuff. I don’t doubt she believes that’s what happened, but, sir, you have to admit, it’s a little farfetched. She’s told us she shot one security guard and injured another, but we found no blood, no bodies, no shell casings, absolutely nothing. We’ve talked to this String fellow, and he denied any knowledge of Augustus Porter and took responsibility for the whole thing.”
“What’s going to happen to String?” Max wondered.
“He’s already been released.”
“Released?” My father was stunned.
“He’s a minor—only seventeen—and he admitted to everything. Said he was out of his mind on Eupho. The officers took him home to his parents. He didn’t sound much like a hardened criminal to me.” My astonished eyes connected with Max’s. Only seventeen? String had parents?
“This is completely ridiculous.” My father’s reddening face seemed to signal an eruption.
“Dad, it’s okay. They took my statement. Just let it go.”
With those words, the officer stood. One foot out the door, he had already dismissed us. “We’ve already looked into your allegations. After you called us yesterday, we took a trip to the Paramount and found nothing, except for a bunch of old Macbeth programs and dusty theater seats. We even contacted the Zenigenic CEO, Xander Fancypants or something. His assistant assured us Zenigenic is not manufacturing Emovere, or Onyx, or whatever.”