“Oh, it’s not just me and Coop. It’s his parents, my mother, and Dr. Booth, plus our sisters.”
My phone buzzes again. It’s Emma.
How thoughtful. I see you’re fit as can be.
How thoughtful? Why did that just come off as sarcastic? A thought bolts through me. Oh shit. I cringe looking at my messages. Gah! Damn group text. It’s all Emma’s fault for starting a thread last week reminding us to vote.
“Skyla, is everything okay?”
“Oh, yes.” I bury my phone deep in my purse in fear of Logan’s, or worse, Gage’s, reaction. “Dr. Booth, huh?” Rev comes to mind and I avert my eyes at the thought of Mia’s new crush. “How are things going with him and your mom?”
“Great—too great, if you ask me. She’s always been a little too easy to please, but he really does seem like the first normal guy she’s dated.”
“He is pretty great. Invite them. My mother’s philosophy is the more the merrier. Also, I want to see if we can get together this weekend. Ellis usually has something at his house. I’ll text you with the details.”
“That would be great.” Her features shadow with serious intent. Laken pulls her coat tight over her as if she needed it for more than just warmth. “Have you talked with Logan?”
“Logan?” Now she’s piqued my curiosity. “What does Logan know?”
“Nothing. I just—you were close, and I know this thing with Gage has really set you two adrift.”
“This thing with Gage? You mean my marriage?”
Her eyes widen as if she’s been caught.
“I’m sorry. I just thought we were on the same page. You know—with Wes and all.” Her eyes flit to the side nervously. This is so not about Wes.
“You know something, and you’re hiding it.” Laken and I have been down this road before.
“Are you getting up at three Friday morning to hit the mall?” Changing the subject on a dime. Note to self: Speak with my Elysian ASAP. “My sisters are after me to commit, and I can really use a partner in crime. There’s nothing like executing a little commerce before morning.”
I’m just about to answer when a tall, dark, and handsome man, who happened to wake me up this morning in the most spectacular way, swaggers over.
“Laken,” her name comes from him breathless. He steps in with his shoulders expanding as wide as a door. “I found a maple at the south end of campus, and I wanted to gift this to you.” He says it soft as a poem while handing her a leaf. “My heart hurt too much to pass up the opportunity.”
She eyes it like a snake.
For a second I’m thinking, why is Gage giving Laken a dried up leaf, and then I realize—I’m just too hopped up on rage at my husband to think clearly—this isn’t Gage at all but his wicked twin. Well, not really twin, his wicked half-brother. Just the thought of Gage having a wicked anything makes me sick. It makes me even sicker to think of who his father truly is—the monster who happened to kill mine.
“I’ll pass.” She offers a kind smile. Laken doesn’t have it in her to hate him.
“Is it true—you’re in love?” Wes has the audacity to ask.
I don’t hesitate getting in his face. “Which clue did you miss?”
“It’s fine, Skyla.” Laken holds out her hand. “Yes, Wesley. Cooper is my world. He’s the one I choose to be with. I know you’d like to think he’s some second place trophy winner, but he’s not. I assure you. Cooper and I will be together forever. And one day we’ll even build a family.” Her features harden like flint. “Like Chloe has suggested you’re about to do.”
We start to walk away, and he gently pulls her back. “Is that what this is about?”
Wes has that same serious look of intent that Gage gets when he simply wants to make things better between us, and, oddly, it breaks my heart.
“I promise you, Laken, I don’t want Chloe. I don’t want any part of her. She just—”
“Fits in your plans.” Laken sidesteps my way. “We have to go.”
“Laken, please, come back.”
I hook my arm in hers, and we make a beeline for the coffee shop on campus and don’t stop until the door closes behind us.
The scent of fresh roasted beans lights up our senses, but even the heavenly aroma doesn’t have the power to evict the raw heartbreak we just witnessed. Watching Wesley plead like that was hard even for me.
“Boy, some people don’t know when to give up.” I rake my fingers through my hair. “This one’s on me,” I say as we get in line.
“I’m one of those people, Skyla.” Laken is all riled up. “I for sure don’t know how to give up.”
“What are you talking about?” God, if she confesses to wanting Wesley I might have to toss an iced latte in her face just to bring her back to reality. Can’t she see Cooper for the Celestra God he is?
“I’m not talking about Wes. I’m talking about the tunnels.”
A swell of relief fills me.
“Before you start—I just want to let you know that they’re on my mind, too. But, you’re right, I’m not being proactive enough.” A vision of me shaking the crap out of my heavenly mother blinks through my mind. I can’t help but feel like I’m fucking up left and right, letting my personal life get in the way of the things that matter to my people. “Don’t worry, Laken, I’m shutting down those tunnels.”
“Not soon enough,” she snipes. “Look Skyla, I’m not one of your minions. I don’t have to sit on the sidelines just hoping you’ll get around to it when the mood strikes. I can do things too you know.”
God, now she’s starting to sound like Mia—and slightly like Giselle.
“No need to get—”
“Bitchy?” Laken’s eyes enliven with fire. “I think that’s what you need in your life, Skyla. A real bitch who doesn’t back down or agree with you on every little thing. Maybe your trouble is that you have too many ‘yes’ people—people who simply don’t care to push you. And, no, that wasn’t a put down on sweet, ditzy Brielle. I couldn’t care less that she thinks I’m trying to usurp her BFF status.” She blinks a dry smile. “What you need is a real friend. Someone who’ll wake you up and make you take action when it’s necessary. I’m a doer not a dreamer. You’re damn right those tunnels are going to get shut down even if I have to do it myself.” She spins to leave. I go to yank her back by the jacket and accidently grasp a handful of hair instead.
“Ow!” she yelps.
Good God, Laken looks as if she’s going to kick some Celestra ass—mine to be exact.
Her eyes widen. “Well, look who grew a pair, and it only took a little freak out on the part of her real BFF.”
I’d laugh if I didn’t want to hug her.
“Don’t you even think of heading to Tenebrous,” I seethe the words out like a threat. “The last time you went rogue on me, I had to risk life and limb to save your BFF ass.”
She huffs a dull laugh taking a step in until we’re chest to chest. “I’m asking you to do it again, only it’s not my ass you’ll be saving, Skyla. It’s the countless people who are missing precious moments of their lives, just like my mother did. You know what? I think you need to meet her. You need to see my little sister, Lacey, again, too. Please tell your mother to expect a hell of a lot more people on Thursday because I’m bringing the entire lot of us.” She spits the words at me as if it were the vilest threat. Little does she know my mother is actually doing the cooking, so the threat’s on her.
Laken spins and heads for the exit.
“I’ll shut down those tunnels before the New Year!” I shout after her.
“Prove it!”
I sag a moment. There are a lot of things I need to prove—to do.
The tunnels. My teeth grind down to nothing.
Damn it all to hell, I have to start somewhere.
My phone vibrates right through my purse, and I pluck it out. Two messages. One from Gage—wisely private. Off the charts! Not vanilla. Maybe next time we can leave the rest of the family out of
it? Just a suggestion.
I cringe.
And one from Logan, a moment ago—private as well. Liam can’t believe how friendly you are. I can’t believe how beautiful. Thank you for making my day.
I stare at it a moment as the words sink through me like a flame. Poor Logan. He doesn’t deserve this. My heart breaks a little at the thought of making his day.
On Wednesday after school, I head over to the bowling alley to work my shift. Gage gave me a ride but said he had a secret mission to run. Gage has been working on my birthday gift for a while now. He warned me it would be quite a production but that soon, all would be known. God, I hope it doesn’t involve my body up for sacrifice. Not that I think Gage would be capable of something like that. But, then again, he did partake in Celestra libations.
The bowling alley is pumping with all of the teen scene present to kick off their long holiday weekend to a good start. I hand out shoes for an hour straight before Ellis meanders in.
“Where’s Logan?” I fully expected to see him when I arrived. I tried to get him to meet with me yesterday to end the mystery Laken built around him but no such luck. I’m beginning to think he’s avoiding me. I would have tried to text the answer out of him, but with the way things are going for me, Gage would stumble across it.
“Out.” Ellis takes a long swig of his soda before rattling a bag of fast food in my face. “Deep fried tacos. You in?”
“Not this time.” I hand out a few more shoes to a group of giddy girls. “God, I think I actually miss high school. Speaking of which, are you having a get together this weekend?”
“Do you think I’d let tradition die so easily? Friday, it’s on. It’s only been a year, Messenger.”
“Oliver. How soon you forget.”
“Anyway, everyone will be there. I’ve got fifteen kegs lined up, and I’m heating the pool. Bring your bikini—a two piece is mandatory for entry.”
“Dream on. Besides, nothing good ever happens with a large body of water around.”
“Aren’t you a negative Nelly? I know what you need. You need a good old fashioned kegger—tonight.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll make a few calls and, presto chango, the magic will happen in just a few hours.”
I groan. “Please don’t say presto chango ever again. You sound just like my stepfather. And, no, trust me, Friday is fine. I’m pretty sure I have a pumpkin pie or twenty to bake tonight.” I belly up to the counter, and it’s all I can do not to cry. I can’t go three seconds without thinking of the ways Gage is betraying me by living this double life.
“What’s on your mind, Oliver?” He winks when he says it. “You look wrecked.”
“Thanks.” I lean into him and sigh. “It’s Gage. He’s been acting—I don’t know, strange. It’s probably nothing.” I’m not too sure I should be confiding in Ellis with anything of this magnitude. No offense, of course. I love me some Harrison, but his bloodlines happen to swing toward the ominous.
“Maybe he’s got brain fever?” Ellis shrugs as if it were an everyday occurrence, and knowing Paragon it might be.
“Thank you for your diagnosis, Dr. Harrison. Anything you care to prescribe?”
“Actually”—he fishes in his pocket—“now that you mention it, I do have something that will mellow him out.” He pulls out a small plastic bag full of questionably legal greens.
“No thanks. I think I know someone else who might be able to help with the brain fever.” A Sector to be exact. Logan walks in on cue. He’s never been a fan of Marshall and me teaming up on anything, but, let’s be real, if I want something done in a snap, Marshall is my man—husband, too, in spirit, of course.
“Harrison.” Logan doesn’t look his jovial self. “The trash cans are overflowing in the parking lot. You mind getting on that?” He lifts his right hand in a stiff manner. “I sort of jammed my fingers.”
“Good thing you’re not on the team anymore.” Ellis steps over and gives it a closer inspection as he takes off. “That looks like a career killer.”
“Ouch.” I gently pull Logan to the side. “Tell me Marshall’s face had nothing to do with that.”
“Lexy—shoes, please.” He points at the counter until she scurries over. “Come here.” Logan takes me by the hand, and my body electrifies, not in the traditional way it electrifies when he touches me, but in the oh-God-am-I-betraying-my-husband-by-holding-another-man’s-hand kind of way.
He gives a little laugh because I know darn well he heard.
“What happened to your hand?”
“I met with a door. It won by the way.”
My mood plummets knowing that Logan is beating doorways to vent his frustration. Although I suppose that’s egocentric to believe it had anything to do with me.
He pulls my hand to his lips and presses over it briefly. “That’s not egocentric, Skyla. That’s simply reality.”
My stomach explodes with heat as we head out the back into the dirt lot just shy of the woods as the fog curls its icy fingers around us. The haze is so thick, it fills in the space between us until it looks as if we’re veiled in another dimension. Any time Logan and I are together, it feels like just that, another dimension.
“You know something.” My words come out in a snowy white billow. “And by the way, that isn’t the first time I’ve said that phrase this week in regards to my husband. Laken knows something, too. So tell me, Logan. What have you and Coop been up to?”
Logan bears into me as that vertical dimple I sliced into his skin inverts.
“I love that you pieced it all together.” He brushes the hair from my eyes. “I was with Coop.”
“And Marshall?”
His smile melts away. “Dudley was there.” He touches his hand to my cheek ever so softly. “Don’t go to him, Skyla. Please, let me be the one to tell you.”
“Start speaking.” I’m about to go Laken on him in a moment. I’ll have to remember to tell her that I’ve coined a phrase after her name no thanks to the psychotic, albeit BFF, based episode we shared the other day. “You said you’d tell me.”
“And I will.” A level of distress haunts his features that I have never seen before. “I’ll give Gage until tomorrow night to confess it.” He starts to walk back toward the bowling ally, and I spin him back.
“Wait, what does Gage have to confess? The fact he’s sneaking out nightly? I already know that.”
“Not that.” He tucks his chin looking alarmingly attractive. His amber eyes glow against the pale, dense fog, a brilliant shade of amber.
It’s a wonder Lexy hasn’t ravaged him by now, not that she hasn’t been trying. It’s nauseating working with the two of them. In Logan’s defense, he’s a master at deflecting her advances.
“I’ve decided I’m not going to say a word, Skyla.”
I cinch him closer until I can feel his hot breath over my cheek. “But you said—”
“I’m going to show you.” Logan bears into me a moment before pulling me into a deep, long embrace. I bury my face in his neck and take in the subtle woodsy scent that is all his own. There’s something foreign exuding from him, something I’m not used to feeling when we’re together—fear.
God, what in heaven’s name could make Logan Oliver afraid? And then it hits me like an evergreen dropping over my head.
“You think he’s wicked?” I pull back and stagger in disbelief. “Do you think we’ve been fooled all along?”
“No.” His gaze locks past my shoulder at nothing in particular. “Because if that were true, he would have been a lie from the beginning, and I don’t buy it.”
“So are you buying this new reality? Because I’d like to ship it back to the evil Fem it came from and shove it up his ass.”
He takes a breath, and that smile returns to his face.
“I hope you get the chance.” He leads me back into the bowling alley, but the anxiety, the dread he was exuding a few moment ago still has me rattled.
What in the hell could Logan ever hav
e to fear?
Unfortunately on Thanksgiving morning, I wake up far too late to help my mother but for a very good reason. I was up all night making love to Gage. Well, not all night—therein lies the problem. I thought maybe if I kept him occupied with my body, he might not make a run for the wicked border, but in true nuGage fashion he dematerialized the second I fell asleep. And when I finally did wake up, the bed was empty. About two hours later he came back no worse for wear. I didn’t let on that I was apprised to the fact he was gone. I never do. In fact, I’m getting sick and tired of waiting for some big confession. Gage Oliver has used up all his but-he’s-so-good-in-bed passes. I need to know what the hell is going on right this minute.
Logan mentioned he would tell me—correction, show me, something tonight. I’m assuming whatever it is it will incriminate Gage in some way, and that’s where my fury lies. If Gage knows he’s doing something terrible, shouldn’t he be an emotional wreck until he collapses in a ball of tears? I mean, really, how much stress does he think our marriage can take before it fractures? The foundation is already cracking. I can feel the infrastructure of who I thought we were, snapping beneath our feet. The sham of our marriage is about to give way if he doesn’t start singing like a bird. Maybe I should stop pretending that I’m unaware of anything and throw everything I do know in his face, which is basically three things: One, Laken knows something. Two, Logan is going show me something—tonight. And three, I have a spirit husband, and I’m not afraid to use him.
“You’re finally awake.” Gage sheds his signature grin as he enters the room. “I made the mistake of getting up early, and your mother put me straight to work. She said she has a date with a guy named Tom, and before I knew it I was stuffing with the best of them.” He lets out a hard sigh before sliding back into bed. “Tad’s home.”
Gage cradles me in his arms. There’s a slight scent of something familiar clinging to him, and it has nothing to do with turkeys of the animal variety or Tad. It’s the distinct scent of blue keeping solution—formaldehyde mixed with a floral deodorizer to neutralize the gagging effect.