Hourglass

  Michael pulled me forward to stand beside him. “With the angel. This is Emerson.”

  Kaleb sat up quickly, turning three shades of green before grasping the blanket tightly around his waist, leaping up from the couch, and making a run for the door.

  I looked up at Michael. “Okay.”

  We walked up the stairs as I tried to ignore the sound of retching coming from the downstairs bathroom, glad I’d skipped breakfast. “Great first impression.”

  “He’s really not that bad.” Michael’s blinds were open and sunshine filled his room. “That’s not true. He’s worse than this sometimes.”

  “I meant me, not him. You told him my name, and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. You don’t have to explain his behavior. Who am I to judge?”

  “In the past six months I’ve watched him go from nice guy to hard-ass.” Michael sat down in his desk chair and put his head in his hands. “It was bad enough when Liam died, but then his mom …”

  “Got sick,” I supplied.

  “It was more than that.” He hesitated before raising his head. “After Liam died, she … tried to kill herself.”

  I swallowed. Really hard. “Wow.”

  “Luckily, she didn’t succeed. Grace has been in a coma ever since. For a while she had private nurses around the clock. Landers allowed her to stay at the Hourglass house.”

  “That’s why Kaleb stayed,” I said, finally understanding why he would remain in the same house with the man he suspected of killing his father. “To watch out for his mom.”

  “Right.” Michael’s face was troubled. “But her doctor suggested a long-term care facility. She’s being moved today.”

  “That sucks.” I knew way too much about long-term care facilities. I wondered if Kaleb did. If he knew what he’d have to deal with when he visited.

  “That sucks,” he agreed. “Kaleb used to be so different, so focused. He was a champion swimmer. The pool you saw at the Hourglass was put in for him.”

  That explained the swimmer’s body, especially the shoulders. And the six-pack.

  Eight-pack.

  My edit button worked for once, and I kept my mouth shut. I pulled myself up to sit on the desk, the square edge scraping against my jeans. “You never told me what his ability is. Can you?” “I might as well,” he said, settling back in his chair. “He won’t. Do you know what an empath is?”

  “I know what empathy is.”

  Michael picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser end rhythmically on his desk. “There’s a difference. An empath is supernaturally in tune with other people, sometimes whether he wants to be or not. Empaths aren’t held by time or space, so they can feel the emotions of anyone, anywhere, in any time. But Kaleb mostly feels the emotions of people he would otherwise connect with in some way. He can read me because he’s like my brother.”

  “Why did he call Ava ‘the Shining’?”

  “Have you read the book?”

  “No, but I’ve read about it, and the movie.” I avoided horror, especially horror that involved ghosts and psychopaths. I was exceedingly grateful for the Internet, the easily accessible plot synopsis, and the fact that it allowed me to consume popular culture in an informed but distanced way. “Ava doesn’t keep an ax in her room or write on doors with lipstick, does she?”

  He gave me a look. “Kaleb has a thing about nicknames. He claims Ava’s mind is just as fractured as the dad in the book, and that she’s just as resentful of authority. She tends to do whatever she wants to do whenever she wants to do it.”

  “Are all Kaleb’s nicknames that involved?”

  “No. He just really has a problem with Ava. Maybe because of the way she is around me.”

  “Um … Kaleb’s going to stop blowing groceries anytime now, so maybe we should talk about him while he’s not in the room?” I suggested. I didn’t want to discuss the competition.

  “True.” He dropped the pencil on top of his desk. “I think the reason he’s so tough on the outside is because he’s so open on the inside. Everything about him—the way he looks, the way he dresses—is intentional. He tries to keep his distance from people because if he can he doesn’t have to feel what they feel. What happened to his dad was bad enough. Dealing with his mom’s breakdown almost killed him.”

  “Is he able to feel her emotions now?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not since the suicide attempt. He blames himself, says he never saw it coming.”

  My heart broke for Kaleb. His father might be dead, but his mother was alive, and he couldn’t reach her. At least he didn’t have to be inside his mom’s crazy. Seeing it from the outside had to be hard enough.

  “Part of his problem is that he can’t always identify why people feel the way they do. He can misread emotions—think they’re directed at him and then find out they were toward someone else,” Michael said, rolling the pencil between his palm and the desk. “He told me once the reason he loves to swim is because emotions don’t pass through water. It’s one place he can escape.”

  I’d want a pool in my backyard, too. “Why did he freak out when you introduced us? I thought he knew about me.”

  “He did. The fact that you’re here with me confirms you’re on board to save Liam.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Michael held a finger up to his lips. Kaleb walked through the open doorway, shielding his eyes from the sun coming in the window.

  “You look better,” Michael said, standing to close the blinds.

  A lot better. He’d showered and put on clean clothes. The improvement in smell alone was stellar. He looked back and forth between the two of us, his gaze lingering on me.

  It made me feel warm.

  “Sorry about downstairs. I’m not exactly in my right mind. Which I don’t understand,” he said, looking back at Michael, “because I swear I only drank two beers.”

  Michael raised his eyebrows, saying nothing, and sat down on the edge of his bed.

  “Swear,” Kaleb insisted in his deep, rough voice. “Do you remember … um, who I was with when you found me?”

  “Tall girl, dark hair, crazy eyes. She didn’t seem to want to let you leave.”

  “Amy. No, Ainsley.”

  “New girlfriend?” Michael asked.

  “No.” Kaleb’s gaze slid over to me.

  “Random hookup?”

  “Mike. A lady is present.”

  “She might as well get to know the real you.” Michael shrugged.

  “I don’t appreciate what that implies,” Kaleb said through gritted teeth.

  “You’ll get over it.” Michael reached out to grab me by my sleeve and pulled me over to the bed to sit beside him. He pointed to the empty desk chair, then back to Kaleb. “Sit.”

  Kaleb sat.

  But he wasn’t happy about it.

  I watched as his face transformed from the wide smile into something fierce and closed off. His eyes were even more beautiful up close, lending some delicacy to his face, but he still wasn’t a guy I’d want to meet in a dark alley. Michael said Kaleb was a hard-ass, but I didn’t think that began to cover it.

  He was just plain scary.

  “Nothing to worry about, Mike.” Kaleb tried to play the disagreement off, but his voice remained tight. “No harm, no foul. No strings.”

  “I know.” Michael stood, his tone challenging. I wanted to cover his mouth with my hands. Something told me I didn’t want to be within a ten-mile radius if they started fighting. “It’s like all your relationships. Hit-and-run.”

  “Watch it.” Kaleb’s gaze darted in my direction again as he stood and took a step toward Michael. “I don’t need a big brother or a babysitter.”

  “You did last night.”

  Jumping between them was as smart as jumping into the middle of a cage match, but I did it anyway, putting a hand on each of their chests. Even in the heat of the moment I had to appreciate the muscle tone of both.

  “Stop!” My voice broke, so I tried again. “Stop! I
know you don’t really want to do this, either one of you. Quit acting like babies.”

  It had been my experience that accusing a boy of being a baby was as effective as throwing a bucket of water on the Wicked Witch of the West. Just as she did after the Scarecrow took aim, the tension melted. Michael sat back down, and Kaleb dropped into the desk chair. Placing one arm on the seat back, Kaleb eyed me. “Hey, bro, do you think you can put Shorty back on her chain?”

  I stepped forward with my hands on my hips, only slightly intimidated to find Kaleb almost eye level with me when he was seated and I was standing.

  “First of all, no one is the boss of me but me. Secondly, if you ever reference my ‘chain’ again, I will kick your ass.” I jabbed him hard in the chest with my finger. Possibly breaking it. “And thirdly, don’t call me Shorty.”

  Kaleb sat silently for a second, his eyes wide as he looked at Michael. “Where did you find her? Can you get me one?”

  I blew out a loud, frustrated sigh and dropped down beside Michael, who didn’t even try to hide his smile. “You should probably apologize to Emerson.”

  “I am sorry.” Kaleb grinned at me. “Sorry I didn’t meet you first.”

  Chapter 33

  I don’t want anything!”

  The three of us had relocated to the kitchen. Michael peered into the fridge, trying to find something Kaleb would eat. Kaleb responded by putting his face down on the table and covering his head with his arms, only peeking out occasionally to look at me and smile. He definitely had charm.

  In spades.

  “I’m sure Nate wouldn’t mind sharing a half dozen or so of his eggs. Oh yum, you know what would settle your stomach? Baaaacon.” Michael drew the word out as he opened the package and waved it in our direction, smiling widely.

  Kaleb let out a groan as the scent wafted over to the table. Michael winked at me as if I were his coconspirator. I envied the level of comfort between the two of them, especially after a fight that almost came to blows.

  I realized that I was comfortable here, too. I looked at Michael, still digging around in the fridge, and at Kaleb beside me. It felt right. They felt right. I hadn’t come here expecting to find a place to belong.

  Team Freak. Wonder if we could get jerseys.

  The warm feeling of camaraderie faded a little bit when I reflected on the truth. Michael didn’t know everything, not really. If he discovered what my life was like four years ago … it hadn’t been a life. It had barely been an existence.

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Ava swung around the corner into the kitchen, her stilettos hitting the hardwood like tiny hammers tapping the floor. She made brief eye contact with me, offering a tight smile before she turned her attention elsewhere.

  “Michael?” Ava asked impatiently.

  He jumped before pulling his head out of the refrigerator. “Ava. How are you this morning?”

  “We need to firm up our Thanksgiving plans.” She’d yet to acknowledge Kaleb. “I want to book our flight to L.A. Assuming you’re going to accept my invitation?”

  Michael looked as nervous as a deer caught in the headlights of a semitruck hauling hazardous waste. “We already talked about that.”

  “No, we didn’t.” She frowned, looking genuinely confused.

  “It was a couple of days ago. I told you I don’t—”

  “Just come upstairs, and we’ll look at flight schedules. If you’re done with”—she waved her hand in the general direction of the table—“that.”

  Kaleb smirked. “Oh, if you need him, Ava, I’m sure he’s ‘all done’ with me. Michael, make sure you wash your hands before you spread any of my cooties to the Sh—Ava.”

  Ava cut her eyes around to Kaleb, tilting her head in a challenge. “Drunk,” she said.

  “Shrew,” he replied.

  “Kids!” Michael held up his hands in a T shape. “Time out.”

  Ava shot Kaleb a dirty look and left the kitchen. Michael followed.

  He didn’t look back.

  “Why don’t you tell her how you really feel?” I asked Kaleb when they were gone.

  “I have from the beginning.” Kaleb put his arms on the table and propped his chin on his fist, gazing at me. “Kind of like I’m about to tell you that I might be in love with you.”

  “Really?” I laughed. “Because of all of our deep conversations and the quality time we’ve spent together? Or was it just love at first sight?”

  “Something like that,” he said, teasing.

  I thought.

  I lost myself in his eyes for a second. When I realized he was waiting for me to say something, I cleared my throat. “So do you have nicknames for everyone? Shorty, Mike … the Shining?”

  “I guess Mike told you the backstory on that one?”

  I nodded, and his grin spread across his face slowly, like honey dripping from a comb. I bet he was used to girls staring. I wonder if he always enjoyed it as much as he appeared to be right now.

  “I have nicknames for the people I love and the ones I love to hate.”

  I wondered if there was some deep, hidden significance to “Shorty.” “And Ava’s on the hate list.”

  “We’ve never gotten along.” Kaleb’s smile disappeared. He slid his arms across the table and leaned his head toward mine. “Maybe because something inside her seems off, and I can’t get past it. She doesn’t even know how she feels half the time.”

  “You’d know, right?” I returned. “I hope you don’t mind. Michael told me. About your ability.”

  “I don’t mind. I know all about you. It’s only fair you should know about me, I guess.” He sat up, the moment of intimacy broken. “No big.”

  “You don’t know everything about me.”

  “I’d love to hear it all,” he said, playing our conversation off as casual, flirty. I didn’t bite.

  “I don’t know about that. The road to where I am now was … rough. But I’ll give you the details. If you’re interested.”

  Uncertainty clouded Kaleb’s eyes as the mood shifted. Staring out the window over the kitchen sink, he said, “I’m listening.”

  “My parents died in an accident right after I started seeing rips. I was committed to an institution because I let it slip to a grief counselor that I thought I was seeing dead people. Oh, and also because I lost it so completely in the school cafeteria that my best friend had to carry me to the nurse.” I gauged his reaction, wondering how much I could tell him. “No one knew what to do with me, so they drugged me into oblivion.”

  “How did you … get better?” He stared at me intently, searching for an answer I couldn’t give him, no matter how much I wished I could.

  “All those drugs in my system stopped me from seeing the rips. Eventually, the doctors lightened my dosage, and I learned to keep my mouth shut about what I saw. I stopped taking my meds last Christmas. Meeting Michael … has made it all easier.”

  “Did he tell you how my parents met?”

  “No,” I said. “But Cat told me a little bit about their relationship.”

  Kaleb leaned back in his chair, propping the sole of one sneaker against the edge of the table. “My dad is … was such a typical scientist. Crazy hair, clothes that never matched. My mom always had it together. She used to be an actress. They met when he was a technical adviser on a sci-fi movie she was in.”

  “What’s your mom’s name?”

  “Grace. Her stage name was Grace—”

  “Walker.” I interrupted as the resemblance struck me. “You look exactly like her.”

  “Lucky for me.” He grinned. “They married six weeks after they met.”

  “That’s amazing.”

  “Their connection was unreal, deep. My dad saw rips his whole life, but it didn’t start for my mom until they met.”

  “Did it terrify her?”

  “She had my dad.”

  I wondered if it had really been that simple for her. “How did the empathy thing happen for you?”

  ??
?As far as we know, I was born with it. I cried a lot as a baby, but not because of colic. Once my parents figured it out, my mom quit taking acting jobs so she could be home with me all the time, act as a buffer. My mom made my life bearable.” He paused, staring down at the floor. I thought I caught a glimpse of moisture on his dark lashes. “I miss her. I miss them both.”

  “Kaleb, you don’t have to—”

  “No, it’s fine.” He looked up at me, his eyes clear. Maybe I’d been wrong. “Anyway, as I got older, I discovered other things that helped, like how quiet it got for me, mentally, when I was underwater. That I could close out a lot if I put up enough walls.”

  I felt the need to lighten the moment. “Is that why you act like such a jerk?”

  Kaleb granted me a grin. “Good call.”

  “I blocked a lot out, too, after the accident, even after the hospital,” I confessed. “Kept my head down. I learned things—self-defense, sarcasm—all designed to keep people out, keep them away.”

  “Did it work?”

  “For a while.” I smiled. “It’s getting easier to let people in. You should try it.”

  “I’ll let you know how that works out,” he said, laughing. Then his face turned serious again. “No one knows this except for Michael, but my dad found a way to isolate the properties of certain drugs to help me filter the feelings, keep me from absorbing everything from everybody. He manufactured a supply for me right before he died.”

  He took a flat silver coin out of his pocket and began flipping it over and under his knuckles, concentrating on the movement for a moment before fisting it in his hand. “I know what you’ve agreed to do for my dad.”

  Directly meeting the blue eyes that matched those of his famous mother, I said, “For your dad. And for you and your mom. No one should have to go through the things we have. If I can change the outcome, make life better, it’s like making it right for the whole world.”

  “My dad gave me this when I turned sixteen. I’d finally accepted who I was. Decided to learn how to use it instead of running from it.” Kaleb held the coin out between two fingers so I could see it. It wasn’t a coin at all, but a silver circle with a word engraved on it. I leaned closer to read it.