I snicker to myself at the street name.
“Thanks, Lacy. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it. It’s the least I can do. Is—is everything okay? With the case, I mean…”
“Oh yeah—everything’s fine. I just have some questions for him. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to do with you or Esther.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Lacy’s sigh of relief is palpable.
“Well, thanks again. Talk to you soon,” I say, hanging up the phone.
I stare at the details on the page.
Do I call? Or do I show up unannounced?
The social anxiety in me says to call and be done with it. The psychic in me wants to see his reactions and get a better read on him and the situation.
“Dammit.”
I rip the piece of paper off the notepad and grab my car keys. Walking out the back door, I head to my tiny garage. My itty-bitty Prius has sat dormant for months, resting inside the barely wide enough space. Seriously, whoever built garages in the early 1900s didn’t expect people to be able to open car doors once they were finally inside.
Sliding behind the wheel, the car still fires up on the first try—no problems whatsoever.
I rub the steering wheel, giving a little silent praise before shifting into reverse. It isn’t until I’ve left the confines of my back alley that it occurs to me, I have no clue where this Wild Rebel Road actually is. And without the creepy assistance from a sat navigator, I need to do things the old-fashioned way—with a map. Especially with my intuition on the super fritz when it comes to him.
Pulling into the nearest gas station, I fill up on gas, and yank the map of Helena out of the glove box. It takes ages to finally pinpoint the street on the map, but thankfully, the course is relatively simple. In fact, now I can see why alarm bells didn’t go off right away. We drive right by the Helena PD on the way to his place.
Taking a deep breath, I lay the map out on the passenger seat and climb back inside.
“Okay, Diana. Let’s do this,” I whisper under my breath as I put the car in gear.
The roads look different during the day—far more relaxing as I leave the confines of the city for a more open layout. It doesn’t do much to chill out my nerves, unfortunately.
I take a deep breath and roll my eyes.
“For Godsake, you’re not asking the man to marry you, Diana. Would you get a grip?”
I twist my fingertips around the steering wheel and concentrate on the road. The drive there is fairly easy, now that I have a clear direction, thank goodness. Before I know it, I’m already turning down his twisting, long driveway.
The Tudor style home still looks impressive in the daylight and the massive trees in the front are probably gorgeous, come summer time.
Putting the car in park, I kick open my door and walk to the front entry before I can talk myself out of it.
I rap on the door hard, then step back and wait. Crossing my hands behind my back, I pace the front stoop for a moment before deciding it’s been long enough and try again.
When still no one answers, I try the handle, hoping for an easy win. Unfortunately, the door’s locked.
Dammit.
I should have called first.
Leaning toward the narrow window beside the front door, I place my head on the glass, trying to get a good look inside. Unfortunately, the narrow access only grants a view of the entry way wall.
“Now what, Diana? Wait around like a lost puppy? Or go home and give him a call like you should have done to begin with?”
As I start walking down the steps and toward my car, a dark red, beat-up pickup drives up. It comes to a halt beside the garage door.
“Hey, whatcha doing here?” Aiden asks, throwing open the door. “Was Blake expecting you?”
I shake my head. “No, kind of an impromptu meeting. Is—is he home?”
Tipping my head toward the house, I keep my eyes trained on Aiden.
“Dunno. I’m here with you,” he smirks. “One way to find out. C’mon.”
Aiden grabs a backpack and unravels his keyring in search of the front door key.
“Are you sure? I mean, I don’t mean to intrude or anything.”
“Are you kidding? You’re saving me,” Aiden chuckles as he twists the handle and swings the door open wide.
“Oh?”
“Yeah—I’d have to do homework if you go,” he laughs.
“Well, I can’t let you die of knowledge, now can I?” I chuckle.
“Exactly,” he winks, throwing an easy smile. “You hungry?”
My eyebrows tug in. I really only had one purpose—to put Blake in his place. Not raid his kitchen.
“I’m okay,” I say.
“You sure? I’m gonna whip up some nachos quick. I’d be more than willing to share.”
Aiden nods to the kitchen, urging me to follow along.
“No, really. I’m good.”
“You’ll miss out. I’ll even put avocados on it,” he says as we enter the broad expanse of a kitchen.
It’s still as sparsely decorated as the rest of the house, but you can tell a lot more care and consideration has gone into this space. Things are laid out very precisely, and the stainless-steel appliances are meticulously clean.
“Oh, and there’s coffee,” he adds.
“Alright, you twisted my arm. Coffee would be lovely.”
I take a seat and belly up to the breakfast bar the way I would at home. Aiden’s energy is very easy going and relaxed. Surprisingly, he sets me at ease right away and dispels some of the anxiety I was feeling about coming here.
Aiden sets to work, maneuvering the kitchen like a true pro. Grabbing pans, and fresh ingredients from the refrigerator.
“So, you said you were here for Blake, right?”
“Yeah, I need to talk to him about some stuff. We kinda got off on the wrong foot last time we were together,” I say, leaning forward.
“Yeah, he has a way of putting people off at first, but once you get to know him, he’s really a big teddy bear.”
I smile, getting impressions immediately from Aiden of all the good times he’s had with Blake. Christmases, surprises, special treats, and birthday parties over the years. The images flash by quickly—so quickly, in fact, he probably doesn’t even realize he’s conjured them with such potency.
“You’ve known him a long time, huh?”
“Yeah, guess you could say that,” Aiden nods, stirring some sort of black bean mixture and adding cheese to another pan to start melting.
“How did you first meet?” I already know the answer of how they got thrown in this situation together, but not how they initially met.
“I don’t know. He’s always sorta just been in my life. He was best friends with my parents, so he was kinda like big Uncle Blake from the time I could walk and talk.”
“And you’re parents—they’re not with us anymore?”
“Nope. They died when I was pretty young. Eight, I think.”
“I’m so sorry, Aiden. That must have been hard for you.”
“Yeah, it was. A lot of people weren’t sure this was the right path—going with Blake, you know? Right away I knew my life was never gonna be the same. But Blake, man, he made sure things stayed as stable and recognizable as possible for me. I don’t know what I’d do without him. He’s really given up a lot over the years.”
“He sounds like a good guy,” I say, flicking my eyebrows in recognition.
“The best. I know it sounds all cliche and stuff, but he’s my best friend.”
“Blake was saying you lived in Minnesota before you came here. Was that weird for you?”
“Nah, it was pretty awesome. I wanted to go to the University here, and Blake up and moved us so I could make it happen.”
“Do you miss Minnesota?”
“Not even a little bit. It’s damn cold there,” he chuckles.
“I suppose it would be. I mean, it’s practically the North Pole.”
&nbs
p; “You’re not kidding. Especially in the winter.”
I shake my head. I lived in Minnesota once—pretty lakes. But seven months of cold is enough to drive a person batty. One thing you learn when you’ve been around as long as I have—don’t live where the air hurts your face. Gorgeous lakes or not.
“Blake should be back soon. He usually runs errands while I’m in school, but tries to be back about the same time I am,” Aiden says, dumping coffee beans into the coffee maker and flipping the switch on.
The room fills with the sounds of beans grinding, then subsides to the percolating noises I’m used to.
“I gotta get me one of those fancy coffee pots. I still grind my beans by hand,” I say, chuckling.
“Hardcore.”
“Yeah, compared to that crazy thing,” I say pointing.
The room begins to fill with the smells of coffee, warmth, and kindred spirits. I’d forgotten how easy it can be to talk with people sometimes. Not everyone is as laid back as Aiden and Blake.
“So, you go to school around here?” Aiden asks.
“Me?”
My hand flies to my chest as I try to digest the question. I forget sometimes how young I still look—despite my super advanced age.
“Yeah, you’re what? Twenty-five or something? I suppose you don’t need to, with your line of work. No offense.”
I run my hand along the back of my neck.
“Uh, yeah. No college necessary.”
He nods, handing me the first cup of coffee.
“You take cream or sugar or anything?”
“All of the above,” I nod.
I grab hold of the handle, pulling it in tight to me so I can inhale the aroma even more. There’s something magical about the scent of coffee. Even after all this time, I don’t quite know what it is. Sure, the caffeine buzz is nice, but it’s deeper than that.
Aiden takes out the milk and sugar and hands them over to me, along with a spoon. The front door creaks open, and my heart kicks things up a notch.
“We’re in here,” Aiden calls out, continuing to work on his nachos.
There’s some scuttling in the hallway, but Blake calls back, “Who’s we?”
He enters the kitchen, bags in hand from his grocery shopping excursion. The smile on his face fades as his lips form an “o.”
“Diana—” he says, recovering.
I flit my eyes from him to Aiden and back again. Aiden continues to cook, oblivious to the awkwardness permeating the room.
“Hey Blake,” I say, trying to force my lips into a genuine smile.
“What—I mean, not that it’s not great to see you—but what are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you. Do you have a second?” I say, hopping off the bar stool.
Blake strides quickly to the counter, placing the bags down.
“Aiden, would you mind putting this stuff away when you get a second?” he asks.
“Sure thing.”
“Great. Uh—Diana, do you want to follow me to the study?”
I nod, sweeping my hand out to suggest he lead the way.
Blake bites his lower lip and takes the lead.
We walk down the narrow hallway, past the room with all the computers and gadgets, and into a large study on the opposite end. Books adorn the walls in floor to ceiling shelves spanning the entire room. By far, it’s the most decorated room I’ve seen thus far.
I walk up to the shelves, my fingertips grazing the spines.
“You like books, huh?”
Blake nods, his eyebrows raising up quickly.
“You could say that, I guess.”
“Hmmm.”
“Hmmm?” he asks, standing in the doorway.
“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you the last time we talked. I forget sometimes to dial down what I know. I guess, I thought you could handle more than you could,” I say, leaving the books and walking back to him.
Blake’s face flashes between expressions quickly, as if he’s fighting internally with himself.
“Look, you just caught me off guard. I’ve had some time to work through it now, though. So don’t worry.”
I let out a sigh of relief.
“Oh, good.”
“I mean, once I realized you and I aren’t all that different, it all made sense.”
I blink, confused.
“I’m not following.”
“You did your homework, right? After you met me and Aiden, you what—used Detective Radish or whatever his name is to pull our records?”
“No—first of all, I’d never invade your privacy like that,” I say, indignation rising. I take a step forward, invading his personal space a bit instead.
“Come on. You can’t possibly expect me to believe you’re really psychic,” he says, making a face.
“No, not at all. I expect you to know it. Where the hell were you when we got Esther out? Did you think it was just an educated guess?”
“Educated, perhaps. Mostly, I figure it was more a lucky guess. It happens sometimes.”
“Oh my God, please.”
I roll my eyes and lick my lips. How on earth can someone be so dense? The evidence is right there in front of him, but he’s oblivious to seeing it.
Blake keeps his eyes trained on me—his intense brown eyes wide.
“You’re a moron, you know that?” I spit, pacing back and forth like a caged animal with him hovering in the doorway.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re dense if you think it’s all lucky guesses and wool pulled over eyes. What about the warning I gave about the other car? Why bother asking me to help you find the men who got away? I mean, what the hell?”
Honestly, I have no idea why it bothers me so much that he doesn’t believe me. It’s his prerogative, I guess. It wouldn’t be the first time—but for some reason, his rejection stings more than most.
Blake doesn’t say anything; he simply watches me like a hawk as he crosses his arms over his chest.
I stop pacing and turn to face him head on, widening my stance and refusing to look away. Suddenly, I know what I have to do to convince him once and for all.
“What are you doing?” he finally asks, quirking an eyebrow.
After a long pause, I say, “Fine, I’m in.”
Chapter 11
BLAKE TAKES A STEP BACK. His eyes narrow, and his mouth twitches.
“What? Like, now?” he releases his arms and scratches the back of his head. “This wasn’t a ploy to get you to say yes, you know.”
I shrug.
“Even if it was, now I have something to prove and I can’t remember the last time I felt like that.”
“What if I’ve decided to let it go?” Blake says, shaking his head.
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“Oh, let me guess, another premonition, right?” he makes a face, but for the first time, he enters the room. He walks to the big picture window on the far end of the space and stares out into the late afternoon.
“No, educated guess, moron.” I spit back, walking over to him.
Blake snickers.
“Right, you still can’t get a ‘read’ on me.”
I fight back the urge to punch him after he air quotes.
“See, that sarcastic tone in your voice is why I’m doing this. I’m looking forward to wiping the smug look completely off your face when it finally occurs to you there’s more to me than smoke and mirrors.”
“No, you’re not,” he says over his shoulder. He doesn’t look my direction, but there’s a hint of something—wonder perhaps—starting to blossom in his tone. He probably wouldn’t admit it—but I’ve been around long enough to hear it.
“No, I’m not, what?”
Blake turns around, leaning back as he rests his hands behind him on the window seal.
“You’re not doing this because you have anything to prove—at least, not when it comes to your psychic skills—mojo—whatever. I mean, what’s one person who thinks you mig
ht not be who you say you are? You have a reputation around here, even if I don’t entirely believe you. And you’re not doing it for an ‘I told you so’ either.”
“Okay, smart ass. Enlighten me. What am I really doing it for?”
Now it’s my turn to cross my arms and take a step back.
“Like I said before, you try too hard.”
“Ugh, not that again…” I roll my eyes and loll my head.
I take another step back and start to walk toward the door.
“It’s true. You want people to see this, I don’t know—hard shell—but it’s bullshit. You do all that because you’ve been hurt by caring too much. I’d wager my life on it. But every once in a while, the real you slips through. You want to care—you want to do good in this messed up world, but you don’t want anyone to know it’s the real you.”
My eyes widen, but I don’t dare say a word.
He takes a step forward.
“But I see it,” he says, his tone hushed.
“Well, thanks a ton for your assessment, Dr. Phil. Now, are we gonna get to work, or are you gonna psychotherapy my ass all day?” I say, shuddering away the goosebumps his words invoked.
Blake crosses his arms. “I know I’m right.”
“Then it looks like we both have something to prove.”
“Guess so,” he nods.
“Super. Now, where do you wanna get started?”
“I uh—I don’t know. I kinda got blind-sided by all this. Mind if I take a day to regroup? I need to talk with Aiden and see where he left off, I suppose.”
“Sure, do what you need to do. Take all the time you need,” I say, laying the sweet on thick.
Blake’s shoulder’s ease up a bit.
“But I sure hope that extra day doesn’t mean another girl—or ten—being kidnapped,” I add, heading for the door.
With an exasperated sigh, Blake’s chin drops to his chest.
“What? Honesty? Gotta love it,” I say.
“Fine. What do you propose?” he says, raising his head enough to glare at me from under his eyebrows.
“Well, sounds like you had something in play. Why not go chat with Aiden right now and see where we go from there? I mean, he is here. And we’re here. Why wait?”
“Yeah, I guess. Let’s go.”
The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set Page 16
