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“A pact?” he asks.
“Oh yes,” Cleo answers with a growing smile. “A significant agreement that will affect your family a great deal.”
“Well, at least there seems to be a trend,” I note sarcastically. “We’re all going to have to pay for every one of your bullshit moves.”
“Any choice in the scheme of a family pool makes ripples, does it not, Remington?”
I roll my eyes, and Cleo smiles again.
“Great,” I say with a laugh. “So far, we’ve got a bet and a pact. I can’t wait to see what’s next.”
Cleo tsks me again with a click of her tongue on her teeth, and Ty shoves Flynn out of the chair to reclaim it. “Finally,” he breathes. “My turn.”
Ty shoves his hand into Cleo’s clasp, and she closes her eyes and hums as she “reads” whatever bullshit vibes Ty is giving off so she can spin a tale for him as well.
I sigh, rubbing at the mound of Taco Bell that’s starting to sit a little uncomfortably in my stomach, and wait.
When Cleo opens her eyes, they’re still a stark green, but somehow, they’ve taken on a hue of an overturned leaf in a thunderstorm as she looks hard at Ty’s face. It’s eerie, and I have to look away to get the food in my stomach under control as it roils a little bit.
Man, revenge bingeing food is never a good idea.
“There’s a kinship between you and Eve that’s unmistakable, child.”
“Eve?” Ty asks, jerking his chin back.
Jude turns to me to add, “Like from the Bible?”
I narrow my eyes at Cleo once again, but she’s too busy to care. She rubs at the top of Ty’s hand and rocks back and forth like a kid on a seesaw.
Jude, Flynn, and I exchange looks, and even Ty looks back at us over his shoulder with wide, panicked eyes, but none of us says anything.
It takes almost a full minute, but finally, Cleo continues. “Oh yes. The forbidden fruit will prove irresistible for you, my child, and I’m afraid you’ll take more than a bite. The secret of this indiscretion will bring turmoil and pain.”
“Oh, perfect,” I say sarcastically. “More good news. A big secret that’s going to cause horrible shit.”
“Yeah…uh…that doesn’t sound so good, Cleo,” Ty adds, markedly less excited about having a whacked-out stranger tell him what to expect in the future.
“Oh, but it is, child. The journey will be rife with unrest, but the end will bring you great joy and relief.”
“The end? You mean, like, death? Is that the relief? I’m dead?”
His frantic questions almost make me laugh. Almost.
“No, my dear,” Cleo says with an amused smile. “Not death. Not yet.”
Ty turns to look at us and gives a tentative thumbs-up over his shoulder that makes Flynn and Jude burst out laughing. I’m too busy to join in, though, staring down a far-too-pleased Cleo as she smiles at me.
“What?” I ask, interrupting their whooping. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Perhaps because your story is the most complicated of them all.”
You know what? Fine. I might as well get this over with so we can get the fuck out of here.
I nod to Ty and then jerk my head to tell him to move his ass. He does so, quickly, obviously not wanting to take another punch to the shoulder as added incentive.
Cleo reaches out a hand, her long fingers with red-tipped nails floating like a blowing flag in a gentle wind. It’s subtle but enticing, and I stare hard at the movement, my logic still making me resistant to the idea of giving in and letting her take my hand in hers.
“Remy,” she calls, using my nickname in a way that makes me flick my eyes up to hers. “Give me your hand.”
I take a deep breath, uncross my arms from my chest, and slowly place the palm of my hand against hers, twitching when she closes her fingers around the sides to take it in her grip.
She closes her eyes again, leaning back in her chair and looking to the ceiling, and the lids of her eyes start to shimmy like they’re vibrating.
It’s almost as if she’s dreaming in fast motion, the rapid speed of her thoughts making her eyes spasm back and forth.
I glance back to Flynn, and he puts a supportive hand to my shoulder. Relax, man. It’s just for fun, I can hear him repeating in my mind.
And he’s right. This is just for fun. It’s inconsequential at best.
I take a discreet deep breath and let it out again as Cleo opens her eyes, looks me dead in the center of mine, and says with the kind of gentleness I didn’t know was humanly possible, “You, Remington, my darling, I’m sorry to say, will experience great heartbreak.”
Great heartbreak? What the fuck?
A jolt of unease and shock hits me square in the chest, setting me into the backrest of the chair. My lips won’t move, my mouth won’t open, almost as though she’s taken control of my emotions and is forcing her trumped-up prophecies into the truth center of my brain.
