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Lucas practically flies back inside the house.
Half an hour later, I'm speeding on toward the airport. The kids are in the back, suspiciously silent. Lucas refuses to tell me what he has in store for Christopher, though I have a hunch the girls know. My stomach twists and turns with anticipation the closer we get to the airport. I took an inordinate amount of time dressing, second-guessing every choice. I ended up wearing jeans and a figure-hugging sweater, which shows enough cleavage to entice. Now I'm second-guessing the choice again, feeling silly. We didn't make plans for the evening beyond me driving him to his apartment. Oh, there was plenty of banter and insinuations, but nothing more substantial.
For all I know, he could have plans with his family for tonight. I mean, he was gone for two weeks. What are the chances of him wanting to spend his first night back at home with me?
"Seems like we're here a bit early," I say, pulling into the airport parking lot.
"Half an hour. Someone was eager," Sienna comments with a knowing smile.
"I didn't know how bad the traffic would be at this time," I mumble.
"That would be more believable if you wouldn't actually spend half of your working time driving through the city."
We spend the spare time talking about their plans for tonight at Aunt Christina's, and when Christopher texts, letting me know he’s landed, we climb out of the car and wait for him in front of the parking lot. When he joins us, my heart all but leaps out of my chest. Chloe jumps straight in his arms, while Lucas talks his ear off about soccer. Sienna just glances between Christopher and me, suppressing a grin.
“C
ome on, let’s go back to the car,” I say loudly. Sienna walks away with Chloe, Lucas tagging after them.
“Welcome back,” I tell Christopher, suddenly feeling shy.
“Thanks for picking me up. You—”
A sound pierces the crisp air, a sharp wail that sounds almost inhuman. Except it is human, because I know the voice, even distorted by pain as it is. It belongs to Lucas. Whipping around, I see my brother a few feet behind, his left arm covered in blood. There is so much blood; he must have cut an artery, but how? A shard of glass lies at his feet, one of its edges dipped in blood.
Panic numbs my reflexes, freezes my breath in my lungs. Christopher is already halfway to Lucas by the time my legs move, carrying me forward.
"Call an ambulance," Christopher barks at me over his shoulder. His voice reaches me even through the haze of horror, and with trembling hands, I take the phone out of my pocket. The tremor grows so intense that I drop my phone.
"Where did you hurt yourself?" Christopher asks Lucas. "Where is the cut?"
Lucas's answer is another scream. I almost faint while ducking to pick up my phone from the concrete.
"Lucas, I know it hurts," Christopher says calmly, “but I need you to tell me where the cut is so I can try to stop the bleeding."
I'm dialing the emergency number when the screaming stops, laughter replacing it. Sienna and Chloe are holding their bellies, guffawing like I've never seen them. Lucas is jumping up and down, wiping tears of laughter with both hands. Both uninjured hands.
Christopher looks from Lucas to me and then back at Lucas, raising his arms in bewilderment.
"What is going on?" he asks.
I have no answer, shock still gripping my body.
"That was a prank," Sienna says between guffaws. Turning to Lucas, she adds, "Told you it might be a bit too much."
Christopher recovers first. "Fake blood?"
"Yes," Lucas confirms, drawing in deep breaths to calm himself down. "And fake glass." He picks up the shard at his feet, holding it out proudly. "It comes in a kit. It's the first time I used it. Victoria, you said I should be creative."
"Without giving anyone a heart attack," I say. Thank God no one else was around us, or they would’ve had a heart attack too.
Christopher is grinning now, shaking his head at Lucas. "Kid, you've got me there. And you have a weird sense of humor."
Sienna rolls her eyes. "You're such adults. I was expecting better of you, Christopher."
"Okay, why don't we get in the car and drive to Aunt Christina's?” I ask, still shaking a little. “We're going to be late otherwise, and that's not polite."
Chapter Seventeen
