I inspect Annabelle’s colorless clothing and cream-painted face.
“See?” she says. “I’m black and white. Like she was in most of her movies.” Annabelle’s wide-brimmed hat bounces as she considers me. “Big surprise. You didn’t dress up.”
“I came as Awesome Sauce,” I say. “You probably wouldn’t recognize it.”
She leans back and puts her hands in a square like she’s gazing through a camera frame. “No. No, I see…I see…” She drops her hands. “Tool-wear.”
Charlie tugs on Annabelle’s arm. “You know, you guys could drop the act and admit you like each other.”
Annabelle glances at me to see my reaction. I form a gun with my hand and fire in her direction. “Pow.”
A grin sweeps across her face, and she fires right back.
Charlie rolls her eyes. Then she gets a nervous edge to her voice. “Hey, uh, where’s Blue?”
My shoulders square at the mention of his name. After seeing his lips on hers, I’d like nothing more than to tear him a new one. Even if it was a stupid game.
Annabelle points over her shoulder. Her face squishes together, like she can’t believe we’re asking. “Seriously?”
As soon as I spot him, I have to stifle a laugh. I’m supposed to hate him, not get off on his costume. But Blue came as…blue. He’s dressed in all-blue clothing and even painted his face a dark blueberry color. Standing near the refreshments table, he’s pouring himself a glass of green punch. Blue’s eyes land on Charlie, then quickly glance away. He knows she’s here—probably watched her from the time she came in.
I flick my eyes over Charlie’s face. She seems upset, and it strikes a dark flame inside me. I can’t stand thinking she cares about him. To keep her mind where it should be—on me—I take her hand. “Want to dance, beautiful?”
She beams up at me and nods. Then she turns toward Annabelle. “You okay if we dance real quick?”
Annabelle waves us away like she couldn’t care less.
As I guide Charlie toward the middle of the floor, Taylor turns and stares at the girl on my arm, her jaw hanging open. She can’t believe how beautiful Charlie is, and I can’t believe I ever missed it. Taylor meets my eyes, then quickly glances away, acting like she doesn’t notice us.
I tug Charlie’s head against me and press my lips into her hair. A slow song washes over us, and I move my arms around her waist and rock back and forth. Charlie seems to be having trouble with the swaying.
“You okay?” I ask.
Her pink mouth opens, but her eyes divert away from my face. “It’s harder for me.”
I’m not sure why it’s harder, and I don’t care. Without thinking, I sweep her into my arms. She laughs long and hard. The sound splits open my heart and fills it with candy-coated goodness. I dance in a circle, occasionally dipping so that her hair falls in a yellow blanket. Being here—surrounded by bad costumes, listening to even worse music—I’m as happy as I remember ever being. The feeling is overwhelming, like at any moment I won’t be able to handle it anymore. Like my body will explode from pleasure.
Charlie leans her head against me and mumbles into my chest.
“What’d you say, sweet girl?” I ask.
She looks up at me, her eyes large with joy. “I said I’m so in love with you.”
“’Course you are,” I say. “I’m freaking outstanding.”
Charlie laughs and presses her head back against me. “Thank you, Dante.”
“For what?”
“For this. For tonight.” She pauses. “And for telling me everything.”
A chill races through my arms, and for a second, I’m afraid I’ll drop her. I set her down gently but keep my hold around her body. “For telling you everything?”
“You know. The stuff we’re not supposed to talk about tonight. Which I’m not talking about. I’m just…I’m happy you told me,” she says. “You could have lied. It probably would’ve made it easier on you if you had. But since you didn’t, it makes me realize I can totally trust you.”
My gut clenches like a fist, and I feel dangerously close to puking. I’ve tried to forget about how this night is going to end—with me telling her who I really am—but maybe it’s best I get it over with. A cold sweat breaks across my brow. Charlie reaches up to brush her fingers across my skin.
“Are you hot?” she asks. “Want to get a drink?”
I nod, because if I’m going to tell her this, I need to find a quiet place. Charlie takes my hand, and I can’t help wondering if she’ll still hold it afterward. At the table, she grabs a glass of punch, takes a sip, and passes it to me. I taste it and inwardly sigh to find it squeaky clean. I could seriously use a hit of something strong.
Swallowing down every bit of courage I have, and remembering Valery’s threat to expose me, I glance at Charlie. My vocal chords threaten to stop operating at any moment. But somehow, I manage to say, “Hey. I need to talk to you.” The words feel thick leaving my mouth, like I just ate peanut butter. And now I’m sure—absolutely positive—that I’m going to hurl.
“Okay,” she says, a wide smile touching her lips. “Let’s hear it.”
“Can we go somewhere?”
Charlie’s face falls. She’s the most innocent person I know, but even she recognizes the sound of doom. “Oh, no. Do I want to hear this?”
I run my hands through my hair. “Probably not.”
She steps back, inspecting my face. Then she glances around. “Come on.”
She heads toward an empty hallway, and I follow after her. When the double doors close behind us, she spins and faces me. “What’s going on?”
I pull in a long breath and reach for her. She curls into my arms, and I lay my chin on top of her head. I don’t want to tell her, don’t want her to hate me. But I have to do this. Not because Valery threatened to tell Charlie herself, but because it’s the right thing to do. I love her, and I don’t want this lie between us.
“Sweet girl,” I say into her hair. “Tell me you’ll always love me.”
“I always will,” she says without hesitation.
I close my eyes and clench my teeth. Then I open my mouth and say, “I’m not who you think I am.”
Charlie pulls her head back and looks up at me. “What do you mean? You already told me this.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
I expect her to push away from me, to put distance between our bodies. But instead she tugs me tighter against her. She stays quiet for too long, then whispers, “Tell me.”
I pull in a breath through my nose. “I am a collector, and I was sent to collect your soul. That much is true.” I lift my hands to the top of my head, twining my fingers together. I can’t stand the sound of my own voice. I let my head fall back, and before I can stop myself, before I can fabricate another lie, I say, “But I don’t work for who you think I do.”
Charlie holds onto me for a moment. In those sacred seconds, I think she’s going to forgive me—that everything’s going to be okay between us. Then I feel her arms loosen from around my waist. I feel her head pull away from my chest. And slowly, she moves away, taking small steps until her back presses against the wall. Her face says she understands everything I haven’t fully explained.
“No,” she says. She shakes her head. “No. No, please.” Her voice cracks. I reach for her, and she bends at the waist. “Dante, please. Tell me you’re lying. Say it.”
I try to pull her to me, but she yanks away.
“Please.” She says it so softly, I almost miss it. Then she jerks upright and jabs a finger in my chest. “You tell me you don’t mean it. You tell me you’re lying.”
“I can’t,” I whisper. A stinging sensation pricks my eyes, but I can’t cry. I can’t. If I do, I know I’ll never stop.
Her face twists with pain, and she starts to shake her head again. Tears slip down her face. “Say it,” she cries. “Say what you are.”
I push my fists against my eyes and f
ight against the burning behind them. “I’m a collector,” I breathe. “I’m a demon.” I pull my hands away from my face, because I have to see her face. I have to see how she’s looking at me now that she knows.
When I do, I can no longer stop the tears. They crash over my cheeks and free-fall to the ground.
Because her face.
It’s filled with fear. And betrayal. And disappointment.
“Charlie,” I say, my voice broken from crying. “I’m a demon.”
A cry escapes her throat as I repeat the word. She pushes away from the wall and starts to move down the hallway. Her tears morph into sobs.
“Charlie,” I yell. “Please. I love you. I’m going to protect you.”
Charlie stops walking. She swivels around and marches toward me, her eyes blazing with anger. “Protect me?” she growls. “Protect me?” She raises her hand and slaps me hard across my face.
I cover the stinging spot, and at the same time, I reach for her. She tears away from me and runs down the hall.
“Charlie!” I chase after her. The gym doors fly open under her hands, and I watch as she crashes into Blue. She throws her arms around him and sobs. He immediately pulls her to him and looks for what could have hurt her.
His eyes land on me, and I stop dead in my tracks. Blue pushes Charlie behind him, and his chest swells. His hands ball into fists, and his chin lifts slightly. He’s preparing to fight me, and from his blazing eyes, he won’t stop until I cease breathing.
Charlie breaks away from him and runs across the dance floor and out of the gym. People stop and stare at me and Blue. I move to go after Charlie, but Blue steps to the side and catches my eye. He shakes his head back and forth, and for the first time in my entire life, I’m actually afraid I’ll lose the fight.
I nod once, then turn and walk back down the hallway—away from the only girlfriend I’ve ever had. The only girl I’ve ever loved.
Away from Charlie.
Chapter Forty-seven
Desperation
Alone in the bathroom, I splash cold water on my face. I almost don’t recognize the person staring back at me, broken and ashamed. Someone should have warned me about love’s dark underbelly, about the rejection and despair.
Drying my face with a rough brown paper towel, I wonder where she is right now. The last I saw, she was racing out the gym. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes ago, but it feels like forever.
As hard as it’ll be to face her again, I’m already looking forward to it. I’d rather have her hate me to my face than be without her. Besides, I made her a promise that I intend to keep. I’m going to protect her, body and soul. I’m going to right my wrongs. And maybe one day, she’ll forgive what I’ve done.
I walk into the gym and spot Annabelle on the dance floor. Her eyes connect with mine, and she strides toward me. I brace myself for a second slap, but she just looks at me funny.
“Where’s Charlie?” she asks.
I glance around, searching for her. “She hasn’t come back inside?”
“I didn’t know she went outside.” Annabelle narrows her eyes. “Why did she go outside?”
“Because she hates my guts.”
Annabelle’s face softens, which surprises me. Then it opens with alarm. I turn to see what she’s staring at and spot Blue racing toward us.
He’s breathing hard and bends over on his knees to catch his breath. “I can’t find Charlie anywhere,” he tells Annabelle, completely ignoring me.
“You searched everywhere?” I ask.
He glares at me, and I’m certain he’s debating kidney-punching my ass. “Yes,” he says through clenched teeth. “What did you do to her?”
“Enough to make her hate him,” Annabelle chimes in.
I race outside the gym with Blue close on my heels. Together we call her name, circling the school.
“Maybe she went back inside,” I say.
“Maybe you should get the hell out of here and leave this to her friends,” Blue snarls.
I bite my tongue because I don’t want to give Charlie another reason to hate me. Instead, I say, “I’m going to run by her house. Maybe she called her grandma to pick her up. I’ll take care of this. I’ll find her. Just call me at Wink Hotel if she shows, okay?”
Blue clenches his jaw.
“Blue,” I say, louder.
“Fine. Fuck.” He stomps back toward the gym.
Racing toward Elizabeth Taylor, I fight the fear that something terrible has happened. If it has, I will never forgive myself. This close to deadline, I shouldn’t have let her out of my sight. Not even for a second.
I drive around the parking lot a few times, then head toward her house. On the way, I speed like a lunatic and manage to make it there within five minutes. Without even considering knocking, I run toward the trellis and climb toward her window. I need to see for myself if she’s here, and I don’t want Grams freaking out and calling the 5-0s.
The window slides open beneath my hand, and I remind myself again that this lax safety needs to be remedied. Inside her room, I look for anything suspicious, but nothing seems off. Then I head toward Grams’s room. Near her door, I hear the noise of chainsaws and garbage trucks—all sounds coming from Grams’s sleeping body. I ease the door open and move to her bedside. If she wakes up, I can’t imagine what she’ll think. But I know when she does, her granddaughter will be gone. I know the pain she’ll feel, the abandonment. It hurts what’s left of my heart.
Silently, I lean forward and gently kiss her forehead. She’s been good to Charlie, and I’ll always be thankful to her for taking care of the girl I love. I pull her blanket closer to her chin and turn to go.
…
At Wink Hotel, I barrel down the hallway toward my room, praying there’s a message from Blue.
Pushing the door open, I breathe a sigh of relief.
There on my cream-colored retro phone is the red blinking light I’ve been hoping for. I dash across the room and push the message button. The sound of Annabelle’s voice fills my head.
“Dante, it’s Annabelle.” She pauses, like she’s letting that sink in. “We can’t find Charlie. We’ve looked all over the school. We even looked in the places nearby where she might have walked to. Billy’s Burgers, Movie Buzz, the Arcade…”
She continues to rattle off places they’ve searched. But I can’t listen anymore, because the room is spinning. I hang up the phone and lean over, gasping for air. The realization burns through me like fire.
They have her.
I jump up and pace the room in a panic. I always figured I had until the end of tomorrow. One more day, I’d said. Somehow, Boss Man figured out what I’d been planning. And he’d acted.
My failures rush through my brain like poison. I lived my life like a selfish brute. I watched my father die. My mother found a replacement for the husband I killed, and the only piece I have left of him is now with her. I lost Max, my best and only friend. My favorite shoes were stolen at the stupid party where I lied to Charlie for the last time. And now the only girl I’ve ever loved has been taken by a collector.
Everything that has ever been important to me is gone. And though I want to fight for hope, to feel like I can turn this all around…right now, it’s too much. I cover my face with my hands and scream into them.
I can’t lose her. I can’t lose Charlie, too.
My mind ticks off the possibilities of how to get her back, but each time I hit a road block. Even if I can find her, he’ll know I’m coming. My cuff will give me away.
An electric shock bolts over my spine, and I stiffen. I peek between the fingers covering my face and stare down at my ankle. My cuff.
It’s the reason they knew where to find her, the reason they know where I am this very moment. That piece of blasted dargon has kept me prisoner for two years, caged like a filthy animal. I pull my hands away and cross my leg over my knee. Pulling up my dark jeans, I run my fingers over the cool metal.
Boss Man g
ave me a choice the day I became a collector. Wear the restraint and walk among the living, work for hell and be traceable by him and the other collectors. Eat, breathe, and carry on a normal existence on earth.
Or.
Break it off and die a final death. No afterlife. No Judgment Day. No nothing. Just an eternity of silence. I’d heard of one collector who did it before. I believed it a rumor, but now I’m not so sure. I heard he lived for several hours before starting to fade. And now I wonder…
Being locked in the ninth ring of hell is one thing. It’s pain beyond my imagination, but deep down, I figured there’d always be hope. Someone, maybe Max, would spring me from my torture, and I’d be back in action. But this… This is final. No backup plan, no last-minute resolution. Just death.
I imagine Charlie afraid. About who she’s with at this very moment. It stirs something hysterical inside me.
And just like that, my decision is made.
Chapter Forty-eight
Coinkidinks
I push my jeans back down over my new lame sneakers and head for the door. For now, I need my cuff. But my hours as a collector are numbered. The realization is both exhilarating and terrifying.
Elizabeth Taylor has been packed since this afternoon, and when I get outside, I ensure our bags are still in the backseat. I note the size and wonder if they’ll fit into Valery’s tiny trunk. She no doubt has one of those sporty chick cars. Guess she’ll have to figure it out, because I won’t be around to ensure the bags are properly packed, or that she stays ahead of the collectors, or that Charlie fulfills her destiny.
I’m about to slide into the driver’s seat, trying to keep my mind focused, when something seizes my attention. Spinning around, I spot a figure standing against a car near the back of the parking lot. In the dim lights, I can’t quite make out who it is, but the gut sensation I feel tells me everything I need to know—it’s a collector. Pulling my blazer back, I wrap my fingers around the Glock in my waistband. If Creepy McCreeperson doesn’t announce himself soon, I’ll bust a cap in his ass.
The guy takes two quick steps toward me, and I raise the .45 and aim. His hands fly up, and he screeches to a halt.