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Feeling satisfied, I tuck my notebook away then turn to the window again to check on Ayden. His bedroom light is off, so he has to be heading over. Down in driveway, Uncle Ethan and my dad are sawing off the bottom of a tree. Kale and Fiona, Uncle Ethan and Aunt Lila’s other adopted children, are with them, gathering the stray tree branches and carrying them inside the Gregorys’ home to make wreaths like they do every year.
Ayden is nowhere in sight.
Me: Dude, where are you at?
He doesn’t respond.
About a minute later, I spot him hurrying up the sidewalk from the direction of the main road with the hood pulled over his head. Instead of cutting across the front lawn, he hunkers down behind the neighbor’s fence then climbs over it into his side of the yard. With his back pressed against his house, he inches toward the front door like a ninja, clearly trying to go unnoticed. But why? And where was he for the last ten minutes or so?
To make the situation sketchier, the instant he slips into the house, he texts me back.
Ayden: Just got out of the shower. Be over in a couple.
“That little liar,” I utter under my breath.
I wait near the window until he exits through the backdoor. He waves to my dad and his, then jogs around the fence to my yard. Like always, he knocks on the door before walking in.
My dad turns to him from the driveway and hollers, “Ayden, you can just go in!”
I pull my earbuds out and wait for him to walk into my bedroom. When he strolls in with damp hair, as if he actually took a shower, my jaw ticks with irritation.
“All right, buddy.” I stare him down hard. “What are you keeping from me?”
He averts his gaze to the floor, ruffling his hair into place. “What are you talking about? I’ve been at my house.” He scratches at the corner of his eye, and I notice a phone number on the back of his hand.
What the hell has he been up to tonight? And, better yet, who has he been with?
And why is he lying to me?
Chapter 2
Ayden
She has a very un-Lyric like expression on her face when I walk into her bedroom. She’s upset, maybe with me. After a week of being extra nice and agreeable, her determined attitude instantly throws me off. Then she bluntly calls me out on keeping something from her, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I spill my secret, because upsetting her will quickly wear me down.
“What do you mean?” I mess with my damp hair. Since I texted Lyric that I’d just gotten out of the shower, I actually had to get it wet in the bathroom sink before I headed over. I ended up getting the collar of my shirt wet in the process, making the back of my neck cold.
“Don’t ‘what do you mean’ me, looking all innocent.” She strides across the room then pokes me in the chest. “You know, usually I’m cool with you not telling me stuff, but when I see you creeping up to your house all ninja style then lying to me about where you were, telling me you were taking a shower,” she rolls her eyes, “that’s when I start pressing for info. So, tell me, where’d you sneak off to tonight?”
“I…” I trail off as she elevates her brows at me.
For the last two weeks, I’ve spent night after night wondering if my brother’s death was a murder caused by the people who held my siblings and me captive three years ago. His body had been found near the house we’d been held hostage. If it was the same people, I worry they’ll eventually try to kill my younger sister and me. My sister who I wish I could see again, if for nothing other than to know she’s safe.
Fear, toxic fear,
driving me insane.
Flooding me with rage.
Fear, toxic fear,
I wish you’d just disappear.
Leave me alone.
Get the hell out of here.
But I know you’ll never go away,
let me breathe again,
until I know my sister’s safe.
Until I know the demon has paid.
On day five of barely sleeping at all, I decided I’d had it with the constant worry and started searching around on the Internet. I’d stumbled across a hacker and met the guy tonight in the park near my neighborhood because he refused to have business meetings over the phone or computer. Not the smartest thing to do on my part, but I’m getting desperate.
Of course when I met him, my worries of whether he was a serial killer or not dissolved. Rebel Tonic—an online name—is a gangly guy younger than me. If he tried anything, I could have taken him if I had to.
He insisted he can find my sister’s whereabouts by hacking into the social service’s records. His fee is more than I have stashed away, so I’m trying to figure out where to come up with the money, and if I can even trust him not to screw me over.
“I can’t tell you.” I offer Lyric an apologetic look, wordlessly begging her to please be understanding like she normally is.
Her mouth plummets to a hurt frown. “Why not? You know I’ll keep whatever you tell me a secret.”
“I know you will… that’s not the problem.” I tangle our fingers together and guide her to the bed, drawing her with me as I sit down. “Trust me, it’s not because I don’t want to tell you. I just don’t want to get you into trouble if I get caught. It’s better if you don’t know what I’m up to just in case our parents find out… It’s better if you’re in the dark, at least for now.”
“You’re worrying me. Is it…?” She bites on her bottom lip. “You’re not doing anything illegal or dangerous are you? Like… drugs?”
“What! Drugs… do you really think that about me?”
She looks shamefaced. “No, but… I heard Aunt Lila whispering it to my mom the other day. I think she’s worried about you because you seem so… depressed.” Caution creeps into Lyric’s voice, probably worried she’s crossing a line with the remark about my emotions.
“I know she is.” And I feel bad. The last thing I ever want is for anyone to worry about me. I wish I could be happier so my family could relax, but I feel so depressed all the time. “I’m not doing drugs, though.”
“I figured you weren’t, but I had to ask.” She intently studies me with her green eyes then her bottom lip juts out into a full-on pout. “You really won’t tell me what’s going on?”
It’s difficult to tell her no when she looks as adorable as she does right now. I just want to kiss her lip, suck it in my mouth…
“Lyric… I…” Her pout deepens and I sigh. “You know, when I first met you I thought you used to do the whole pouting thing unintentionally.” I tuck a strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear, highly aware of how badly my fingers tremble and the way her breath hitches in her throat. “But now I’m starting to wonder if you know exactly what you’re doing.”
“So does it work?” she asks, hopeful. “Does it mean you’ll tell me where you were?”
“Not yet… but soon maybe. If I feel like it’s safe to.”
“How soon is soon, though? Because you’ve got me really, really worried about you, to the point where it’s hard to think about anything else.”
“I don’t want that. You don’t need to put so much… effort into being my friend all the time, especially with how much of a burden I’ve been lately.”
“Like I could simply just quit.” She shakes her head and her smile brightens. “You’re my favorite person. And it’s hard to just stop thinking about my favorite person. But think of it this way, the sooner you tell me what’s up, the less time I’ll have to spend stressing.”
“I wish I could tell you now.” I withdraw my hand from her hair as the compassion in her eyes becomes unbearable. The way she looks at me sometimes, like I’m everything to her… No one has ever looked at me that way, and it feels unnatural. “I just don’t k
now if it’s okay yet.” Safe yet.
“So vague.” Her gaze drops to my hand as I flex my fingers. “Can I just ask one more thing, though?”
I nod. “Of course.”
“You’re … You’re not seeing anyone, are you? Like dating someone or something?” She angles her head forward, her face blocked by her hair.
“Huh?” I’m so confused. I haven’t shown signs of wanting to heat up our friendship boundaries again, but that doesn’t mean I’ve shown signs of wanting to be with anyone else. “No. Again, what’s with the weird assumption?”
