The Guardian Trilogy: The Complete Collection - Guardian, Allegiant & Reborn

by Sara Mack

  “There you are!” a bubbly voice says. I look up to find Dorothy, aka Teagan, approach us all decked out in a blue gingham dress, ruby red slippers, and pigtails. My stomach drops. It figures she would be dressed as Dorothy and I her nemesis. “Connor, I told you to stay with the group,” she says sweetly to the little boy. “Go stand over there to play the game,” she directs him to a nearby beanbag toss. She stands up straight, leans in to Dane, and smiles at my mother and me. “Who are your friends?” she asks.

  Dane clears his throat. “This is Mrs. Donohue and…”

  I don’t know what comes over me, but I have the overwhelming urge to introduce myself to Teagan. Maybe I just want to see Dane squirm, to make him pay for lying to me. “I’m Emmmma,” I say as sickly sweet as I possibly can. What’s that saying? Kill them with kindness? “You’re Teagan, right? It’s so nice to finally meet you! You look great.” I nod, indicating her costume.

  Teagan narrows her eyes at me infinitesimally. She keeps her smile plastered on her face, but I can see her body tense. “Thank you!” she says, her response equally as fake as mine. “How do you know Dane again?”

  “Hasn’t he mentioned me?” I ask, wide-eyed. “We spent a lot of time together over the summer.”

  She tilts her head reflexively and her smile wavers.

  “Working at the golf course,” I lean forward and clarify.

  “Oh, that’s right!” She looks up at Dane. “This is Matt’s friend; the one you sent the furniture to.”

  She knows about that?

  “The one you said couldn’t afford to get herself anything new.” She fakes sympathy for me with an exaggerated pout.

  Did she just call me poor?

  Dane speaks up. “No. I never said –”

  “You must be mistaken,” I cut him off, feeling the need to set her straight. “The furniture was a birthday gift.”

  Teagan forces an obnoxious laugh. “How silly of me! I must have forgotten.” She smiles, but her eyes shoot daggers. “Now I remember you. Your picture on the Bay Woods website doesn’t do you justice.” Her look is smug as her eyes roam my body. “You look so much prettier in person.”

  Really?! She wants to call me poor and ugly? It’s time to bring out the big guns. I maintain my sugary tone. “And you look just like your picture in Dane’s apartment.” I look directly at him. “You remember, right? I saw it the night you took me to your place?”

  I can feel Teagan’s eyes boring into me, and Dane looks slightly pale. I must have a death wish, because I add, “You know. The night you tried to kiss me for the first time?”

  My eyes skip to Teagan, and she finally loses the smile. Her jaw flexes, and she moves her right hand to her left, noticeably playing with her engagement ring. Hmmm. I’ve found a way to get under her skin. “I don’t remember it being there after that, though,” I continue, feigning confusion. “But then again, we didn’t spend much time in the living room.”

  I can feel both Dane and my mother staring at me in shock. Teagan’s snobbery has unleashed something inside of me that I can’t control and, little do they know, there is so much more that I could reveal.

  “Emma,” my mom politely interrupts our tense conversation. “We really should get back to…”

  “Yes,” Teagan releases me from her death stare. “We should be getting back to the kids.” She flashes my mom a smile and obnoxiously loops her arm through Dane’s. “It was nice to meet you, Mrs. Donohue,” she says, intentionally neglecting to tell me the same.

  My mother nods although I can tell she’s not impressed. I glance at Dane before he’s led away, and he looks amused, almost like he approves – like he’s just seen the most entertaining thing ever. It irritates the hell out of me.

  “That was quite the performance,” my mom says after they’ve gone. “I didn’t know you could be so dramatic. Care to let me in on what’s going on?”

  I sigh, finally relaxing my shoulders. “Dane and I…we’re not friends anymore.”

  “Apparently.”

  “We got close…”

  “Hence the kissing?” She raises her eyebrows at me.

  I blush under my green skin. “Turns out he was engaged the whole time. I just found out.”

  “Engaged? To that sassy thing?” My mom blanches. She steps over to me and raises her hand. “Give me five.”

  I slap her hand. “For what?”

  “The way you handled that…” she drifts off and wraps her arm around my shoulder. “That’s my girl.”

  After the party ends I head to the restroom to change out of my costume, removing my wig and my wart, but leaving the green face. It’s too complicated to remove with paper towel; I’ll just deal with it when I get home. I pull on my comfy jeans and sweatshirt then carefully pack the black dress and accessories. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I make my way to find my mother and help with the clean-up. I find her standing behind our snack station, studying her phone with a smirk.

  “What’s up?” I ask.

  She looks at me. “Are you missing something?”

  I frown. “I don’t think so.” I look behind me to make sure I didn’t drop anything.

  “Your phone perhaps?”

  Awww, crap. I turn to her slowly. “Dane still has it.”

  She nods and hands her cell to me so I can read the message.

  Mrs. Donohue please ask Emma to meet me in the parking lot. I have her phone. Thanks.

  I pull out the best wounded puppy dog expression I can muster. “Can you go get it for me?” I beg.

  She laughs. “You know that only works on your father.” She plucks the phone out of my hands. “You can do it. Now go.”

  My face twists. “You are the worst mother ever,” I say dramatically, slamming my bag down on the table.

  She smiles sweetly at me and starts to pack up the cups we didn’t use. I sigh and start to make my way to the front door, wishing I could just let him keep the damn thing. If I didn’t have to pay to replace it and lose all my contacts and pictures…

  “Emma?”

  I turn. “What?”

  “You might want to take that paint off your face.”

  Ugh! I change direction and march back toward the restroom.

  “I’m not such a terrible mother now, am I?” my mom calls behind me.

  I push open the bathroom door and head for the paper towel. I yank a bunch from the dispenser and run the towels under hot water. I start to wipe my face, but the green makeup is dried on and giving me a hard time. It takes several wipes in one spot just to see the skin underneath. I abandon the paper towel for a moment, squirt some soap into my hands, and rub my entire face. This turns my fingers green, too. At home I applied the makeup with a sponge, so I didn’t have this irritating problem! I move to grab some fresh towels, run them under the hot water, and start wiping again. The soap helps, taking off the majority of the paint, but not all of it. By the third wipe down, my skin is starting to feel raw from the paper towel, yet my face still carries a slight green hue. Oh well, I think, and toss the towels in the trash. So you’re green. Get over it. I glance at my hair, which is still pulled back from being tucked under the wig, and I remove the pins and release my ponytail. I quickly run my fingers through it. There. Maybe that will hide some of my pea green skin.

  I make my way to the front doors of the community center and step outside. It’s a busy place. The DJ loads his equipment into a nearby van and several people pass me, entering and exiting the building as they pack up and say good night. I walk into the parking lot and frown. Where is Dane? My eyes sweep from left to right. Did I take too long washing my face?

  I cross my arms against my chest. It’s cold out here. I decide to head to my right and look down a few rows of cars. Why does he have to make this difficult?

  “Hey.”

  I spin around. Dane pushes himself off the wall of the community center to walk toward me. He’s no longer dressed as the Scarecrow. His straw hair hat and patchwork costume are gone
and have been replaced with a chocolate brown leather jacket and dark denim. His complexion is clear of the stitch marks that were drawn on his cheeks, and his nose is no longer a faux black triangle. As he comes closer, I can see that his jaw is set and his eyes burn. I must have pushed things too far earlier. Maybe it’s a good thing I’m already green because my stomach has twisted itself into knots.

  “You may have single-handedly ruined my engagement,” he says.

  I open my mouth to…what? Defend myself? Apologize? Does he even deserve an apology?

  He stops walking when our bodies are inches apart. He stares down at me, and before I can utter a word he says, “Thank you,” and lowers his lips to mine.

  Chapter 14

  “What are you doing?” I push him away. “Are you insane?”

  “Not last I checked.”

  I step back and look around, half expecting Teagan to appear out of nowhere. “Just give me my phone.”

  “Emma…”

  “I said give me my phone!”

  He plants his feet and crosses his arms. “No.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. “What do you mean no?”

  “We need to talk,” he says.

  I shoot him an irritated look. Since he isn’t carrying my cell, it must be in one of his pockets. I step forward, reaching for his left jacket pocket, and he sidesteps me. I quickly change direction and go for his other side, but his hand swiftly catches my wrist. I instantly try to pull away, but he holds on to it firmly. I give him a stern look. “Let me go.”

  “Not until we talk.”

  “I have nothing to say to you.”

  One side of his mouth twitches. “I doubt that.”

  We stare at each other, and the longer he looks at me the more his eyes soften. I sigh and relax my arm. “I need to go back inside and help.”

  He tilts his head. “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  He looks above me for a moment, and I can see his eyes searching the parking lot. “C’mon,” he says as he starts to pull me in the direction I came from.

  “Could you let go of my arm?” I ask.

  He glances over his shoulder. “What do you think I am? Stupid?”

  I flash a sweet smile. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

  He rolls his eyes and faces forward, towing me toward the entrance of the community center. I spot my mother carrying a tote a few feet into the parking lot.

  “Mrs. Donohue!” Dane calls to her.

  She stops and glances around to see who’s shouting her name. When she sees us approaching, she sets down the heavy tote and waits for us to join her.

  “Hi,” Dane greets her. “I need to borrow Emma for the night, if that would be okay.”

  What?! That is so not okay!

  My mom crosses her arms and assesses Dane from head to toe, then looks at me. I mouth the word “no” to her and barely shake my head, so he won’t see. I immediately know from her expression what her answer will be, and I set my jaw.

  “Sure,” she says. “Our part of the cleanup is done.” She bends to pick up the tote again.

  “Here,” Dane stops her and holds out my wrist. “I’ll carry that to your car if you hold on to this for me.”

  She gladly wraps her hand around my forearm. “Can do.”

  Dane smiles and easily picks up the tote. My mom holds her keys in one hand and pushes the remote to unlock the doors of our Chevy Malibu. The headlights flash midway down a row of parked cars, and Dane takes off in that direction.

  As soon as he’s out of earshot, I turn on her. “What are you doing? I don’t want to go anywhere with him!”

  She gives me her all-knowing motherly stare. “Of course you do.”

  My face twists. “Why would you think…?”

  “Because it’s obvious. Your showdown with the fiancée proved that.” She looks me in the eye. “No girl in her right mind would admit to sleeping with someone in front of her mother and his fiancée if she wasn’t fighting for something.”

  Oh my God. My face turns crimson. “We didn’t…we haven’t…”

  My mom shakes her head and holds out her free hand. “Stop. I don’t need an explanation; you’re an adult. Just as long as you’re being safe.”

  I’m mortified.

  “Believe it or not, I was your age once.” She looks toward her car as Dane starts to make his way back to us. “You could do a lot worse.”

  Sarcasm drips from my tongue. “Maybe you should go with him.”

  She laughs. “If I were twenty years younger, I would.”

  Ew! Can the earth open up and swallow me now?

  As he gets closer, I contemplate which is the lesser of the two evils: leaving with him or talking with my mom about sex. I hate to admit it, but leaving with Dane wins. And is she right? Was the motivation behind my cat fight with Teagan to stake a claim to him or simply the need to defend myself?

  “You’re all set,” he says, giving my mom her keys.

  She nods and takes them, handing me over. “Thanks.” She looks at me pointedly. “Remember what I said about the safety.” She leans forward to whisper in my ear. “You’re still on the pill, right?”

  Oh sweet zombie Jesus! I would be hard pressed to find another time I’ve been so embarrassed. I close my eyes. “Yes. Go home, Mom.”

  She laughs again. “Have a good night,” she says as she walks away.

  I open my eyes to find Dane holding on to my arm and staring at me, amused. “What was that about safety?”

  I can’t tell him my mother thinks we’re sleeping together. I lift my chin arrogantly and lie. “She gave me some mace in case you try anything.”

  He laughs. “Right.”

  He maintains his grip on my arm as he leads me through the parking lot. “You don’t have to hold on to me, you know. I have nowhere to run now.”

  He ignores me, and when we arrive at his car, he unlocks the doors of the Camaro. He ushers me into the passenger seat and then slams the door. I look around the familiar cab and stop short. Sitting in the center console is a crumpled tissue blotted with red lipstick, a bottle of nail polish, and a pair of women’s sunglasses. All Teagan’s, I’m sure. I pick up the sunglasses and turn them over in my hands. They’re Chanel. Expensive. As Dane slides into the driver’s seat, I open the arms of the glasses and push them up my nose. “How do they look?” I ask.

  He turns to me and pauses. “Better on you.”

  Well. That action was supposed to irritate him, not melt my insides. I take off the glasses and defensively toss them back in the console. He starts the car, and I reach for my seatbelt. “Where are we going?”

  He pulls the car forward slowly, looking for traffic, and then turns left out of the space. “To my place.”

  My response is instantaneous and adamant. “No, we’re not!”

  His frown is illuminated by the dashboard lights. “Why? What’s wrong with that?”

  What’s wrong with that? The last time I was there was when we…I feel my ears get hot and push the memory away. How can I explain? Besides, if Teagan’s things are in his car, what’s hanging around his townhouse? Lingerie? My tone turns acerbic. “The last place I want to be is surrounded by evidence of your fiancée.” I gesture toward the console. “It’s hard enough with just this crap here.”

  He glances between the seats. When he turns out onto the road, he immediately pulls off on the shoulder. I stare at him with confusion as he grabs the tissue, nail polish, and sunglasses in one hand. He rolls down the window and throws them out.

  “Why did you do that?” I ask, panicked. I look behind us he pulls away. “Do you know how much those glasses cost?”

  “You didn’t like them. They’re gone.”

  I stare at him wide-eyed. “You didn’t have to do that. She’s going to be pissed.”

  He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh. “And I care why?”

  I frown at him, baffled. What’s he going to do when we get to his house? Go th
rough the joint with a trash bag to make me happy? “I still don’t want to go to your place.”

  He glances at me and sighs. “I know. I get it.”

  He turns his attention back to the road, and I stare out the passenger window. Neither of us utters a word as he drives. When we’re just outside of town, he slows and makes a right, following the route to my parent’s house. We reach the end of that street and make a left, and I’m certain that’s where we’re headed. My attitude must have caused him to reconsider spending time with me. As my address gets closer, my mind and my heart battle one another. Closing my eyes, I picture my emotions in a boxing ring with my voice as the MC:

  “This match is scheduled for three rounds! In this corner, hailing from the dark recesses of Emma’s brain and weighing in with logic and reason, our challenger, Relief! And, in this corner, hailing from Em’s soul and weighing in with disappointment and guilt, our returning champion, Sadness! No punches below the belt, fellas. We want a good, clean fight.” Ding! Ding! Ding!

  I shake my head at my absurd reverie. I surely need some sort of therapy.

  Sighing, I open my eyes, prepared to find us turning on to my street. Instead, I look out the windshield in surprise as we pass by. Where is he taking us? My question is answered when, moments later, he turns into the park entrance near my house. We follow the drive a short distance to a scenic overlook of sorts, where there are about five parking spaces for people to use at the beginning of a trailhead. He selects one, pulls in, and parks. “Will this work?” he asks.

  I nod. Relief has taken out Sadness in round one and is now challenging Anxiety.

  He cuts the engine, but leaves the car on accessory, so the instrument panel provides some dim light in the darkness. He takes off his seatbelt then turns to me, his hazel eyes intense. “I’m so sorry,” he says. “You have to know that.”

  I tilt my head reflexively. “I figured.”

  He looks down for a moment. When he looks back at me, he sighs. “I don’t know where to start other than there.”

  I shrug and cross my arms against the knot in my stomach. “How about with why?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?”