“Which means there are two Siders we have to find,” Sullivan said. “Whoever’s in charge in Brooklyn and whoever was in charge before Vaughn got to Staten Island.”
Why didn’t anyone tell me? Eden thought. Kristen and Madeline had played it off like Vaughn had been there from the start. What are they hiding?
CHAPTER 11
Squinting Jarrod rubbed the strained muscles in his neck. He’d spent all night in the same position, on watch, propped up against the wall. Sullivan had passed out on the futon, and Eden had curled up in a pile of blankets on the floor. Now, Jarrod blinked slowly. The girls weren’t there.
Staggering to his feet, he grabbed for the blankets as if they’d hold some clue. They’re gone. He laced his hands over his head. You fell asleep and they’re gone. “No. Fuck, please,” he whispered.
A laugh sounded from the kitchen, smothered instantly.
“Hello?” he yelled.
“In here!” Sullivan’s voice rang out, the most glorious thing he’d ever heard. He stumbled forward in disbelief. She sat on the kitchen floor, leaning back against the cabinets with an open box of Cap’n Crunch.
Eden tossed a handful of cereal into her mouth. “Sleep good?”
When he didn’t answer, Sullivan looked up. “Jarrod?” The smile dropped away. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought you were gone. I thought you were both . . .” He leaned against the wall and slid down it.
“No!” Sullivan said. “We just didn’t want to wake you up. You were out cold.”
“Snoring and everything,” Eden added, like it was a joke. Like he was supposed to laugh when he’d fallen asleep and his mistake could have cost both Eden and Sullivan their lives.
“How long was I out?” Vague memories surfaced of the sun coming up, the light weak behind the dresser he’d pushed in front the window. Dawn was the last thing he could remember.
“I woke up around ten and you’d already crashed.” Eden chewed and then swallowed her cereal. “It’s four now,” she said.
“Six hours?”
“You needed the sleep,” she insisted.
Instead of arguing, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Okay. What are we doing? What did you guys come up with?”
Eden answered. “If we want to talk to Madeline, Kristen, and Erin, at least we know where they’re all going to be tonight.”
He glanced up to find her dead serious. “We are not going to that ball, Eden,” he said instantly.
Both girls immediately responded.
“Jarrod, just listen to her—”
“Zach said everyone would be there! Maybe this Sider from Brooklyn will be, too!”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said. “Kristen wants to kill you, not to mention what Vaughn would to do to us. Madeline’s not gonna have your back if you make her choose in front of them. You know that, right?”
Eden huffed and set the cereal aside. When she spoke, her voice grated on him, calm enough to be condescending. “We are going to Kristen’s tonight. I’m not sitting here waiting for the Bound or the Fallen to find us. I’m not waiting for them to take us like they did Zach.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” he yelled at her as he stood.
“Your fault?” Confusion furrowed Eden’s forehead, the defiant attitude gone from her as quick as it’d come. “Of course it wasn’t,” she said softly.
How could I just leave him? Even as he thought it, Jarrod knew there’d been no other choice. Zach would understand; he would have done the same for Erin.
“Jarrod?” Eden said.
His attention flicked between the two of them. Minutes had separated them from capture and escape. Minutes and demons. He had a vision—Sullivan’s screams as the Bound snatched her from his arms. Eden being dragged across the back of a booth and out the window. Both of them gone. Nothing he could do. A hard knot of terror and rage tightened in his stomach.
Jarrod spun suddenly toward the wall and slammed it with a punch. The drywall caved around his knuckles. He grimaced, cupping his fist to his chest. For almost a full minute, he stood there, dizzy with pain, endorphins, and embarrassment.
“What the hell was that about?” Sullivan said, standing up and reaching to check his hand.
Everything inside him built. He couldn’t lose it in front of the girls any worse than he already had. He staggered toward the bathroom, the only private place in the apartment. “Sorry,” he called out over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Sullivan followed him and wedged her foot in the door as he tried to close it. “Would you wait a second?” she said. “Talk to me!”
She stood, stubborn and unmoving, until he finally moved aside. He was acting like a complete ass, but he didn’t know what else to do, how to make things better. He leaned, his hands braced on the wall above his head as she closed the door and slid past him. Already his knuckles were blue and bruising. Now, his body would be wasting Touch he could be passing to Eden on healing himself.
Sullivan sat on the edge of the tub. “Come here,” she said, waving him down.
Adrenaline fading, he sunk to the floor in front of her and rested his forehead on her knees. His arms curled around her legs.
A drop of sweat ran down his nose and splashed on the tan tile. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said.
“You didn’t.” Her tentative fingertips touched his neck, traced slowly from his hairline. He kept his head down, lost in the sensation of her touch, his lungs still heaving. “Your hand okay?” she asked softly as he rose onto his knees.
He nodded, his eyes burning and blurry. “I keep thinking about how it was almost us. If they got—” His voice cracked, and he leaned into the space where her neck and shoulder met. He kissed her there, brought his uninjured hand up and buried it in her hair. He prayed she wouldn’t pull away. He’d break. Lose it. If they got you, I couldn’t handle it.
Everything inside him felt on fire, searing. What if they come and I can’t stop them? “Please. I just . . . I need . . .”
His mouth crested over her jaw. He cupped the back of her head, his lips rough on her skin. His teeth grazed her earlobe, and the fingers that had been so gentle on his neck tightened.
They’re going to find us. His hands clasped her waist, the bare skin where her shirt lifted. I can’t let them. His palm slid across the fragile bones of her spine. Breakable. I don’t want her to die.
“Jarrod?”
A sound escaped him as his name left her, something wild and animalistic. The part of him that clung to control recoiled. He trembled, unable to catch his breath, one hand keeping her from falling into the tub.
“Hey,” she whispered, concern in her voice. She touched the side of his jaw gently. “Stop.”
He stared into her uncertain eyes. His face burned as he pulled away. “I’m sorry, I just can’t . . .”
“What can I do to help?” she asked before she slid off the tub to join him on the floor, moving to sit beside him. Her chin settled onto his shoulder. “Tell me what you need.”
This, he thought suddenly. I need this. I need you. Frustrated, he dropped his forehead against hers. Why couldn’t he just say it? “I just want all of us to come out of this okay,” he finally got out.
For a long moment, there was only silence.
“Jesus, Sullivan,” he whispered. “I used to want to die so bad, I’d pray for car accidents. Even after, when I was a Sider. I just wanted it over.” He dropped his elbows onto his knees, leaning over. He couldn’t look at her. Didn’t want to see her face when he spoke the next words. “It’s how I met Eden.”
With her sharp gasp, he knew she’d caught his meaning. “You wanted her to kill you?”
He nodded, not quite sure he wanted to tell the story until it started spilling out.
“When I became a Sider, I felt so trapped,” he whispered. “I heard rumors about what Eden could do, so I tracked her down.” He remembered the first time he’d seen her, the steely look she’
d given him, the way she’d sauntered past like he was nothing. In his mad scramble to follow her, he’d dropped the fifty she charged and almost lost the money to the wind. It’d taken him a few seconds to chase it and catch up.
“This guy who was waiting with me went first. Only I guess he didn’t have the money. So she said no—” Jarrod broke off, started again. “By the time I came around the corner . . .”
“Take your time,” Sullivan said quietly.
“He thought he could make her do it anyway.” Jarrod swallowed, making himself go on. “He hit her. Hard. I lost it, Sullivan. I just lost it on him.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“When it was over Eden was leaning against the wall and she looked up at me. Blood was just pouring out of her nose, but she didn’t even care. She smiled at me. And she said . . .” He glanced up at Sullivan. “ ‘You must really want to die.’”
He couldn’t help the disbelief in his voice, hadn’t even really believed Eden’s reaction then, with the red smeared over her teeth, dripping from her chin to soak her sweater. It had been that moment—his adrenaline pumping and his hand throbbing, standing in the alley with the girl who was supposed to end him—when something changed.
“I got a second chance, and I took it. And now it’s going to be taken away from me.” He flexed the fingers of his swelling hand and winced, only partially from the pain. How stupid to give himself an injury and lose some of his Touch in healing it. His words came out slow and quiet. “They’re going to win.”
“Jarrod, no.” Her fingers slid between his. “That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s already starting. Eden’s one of the strongest people I know, and I’m watching her fall apart. Az is gone. Zach is . . . God knows what they’re doing to him.”
“But Eden will get better and she’ll get Az back.” He heard her swallow. “Maybe we can find Zach?” she tried.
“They’ll use him to figure out how to kill us. He’s not coming back. I have to protect you and Eden.” He dropped his gaze in misery.
She gave him a small laugh, but it didn’t sound genuine. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Prince Charming, but Eden and I are self-rescuing princesses.”
Irritated, he yanked his hand from hers. “Did you see Eden in the alley yesterday? She couldn’t stand, she couldn’t fight. If the Bound get you, Sullivan, they’ll hurt you until you can’t heal. When you’re turning to ash, how are you going to rescue yourself?”
“So how can you possibly be strong enough for all of us? You’re passing her all your Touch, we’re running from the Bound and probably now the Fallen,” she said. “You’re doing your best, Jarrod. Eden knows that. I know that. But you can’t take this all on yourself.”
When he finally met her eyes, he saw the terror she’d kept from her voice, watched as her false bravado began to chip away. She leaned suddenly, her arms coming around his neck. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay, but the words lodged in his throat, wouldn’t come.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
He held his breath and kissed her. Not like before, to distract himself, and not like she’d kissed him in the hotel when they’d met, a last hurrah. A real kiss. Soft and slow and full of all the things he felt but couldn’t say.
“Me too,” he said.
CHAPTER 11
Squinting Jarrod rubbed the strained muscles in his neck. He’d spent all night in the same position, on watch, propped up against the wall. Sullivan had passed out on the futon, and Eden had curled up in a pile of blankets on the floor. Now, Jarrod blinked slowly. The girls weren’t there.
Staggering to his feet, he grabbed for the blankets as if they’d hold some clue. They’re gone. He laced his hands over his head. You fell asleep and they’re gone. “No. Fuck, please,” he whispered.
A laugh sounded from the kitchen, smothered instantly.
“Hello?” he yelled.
“In here!” Sullivan’s voice rang out, the most glorious thing he’d ever heard. He stumbled forward in disbelief. She sat on the kitchen floor, leaning back against the cabinets with an open box of Cap’n Crunch.
Eden tossed a handful of cereal into her mouth. “Sleep good?”
When he didn’t answer, Sullivan looked up. “Jarrod?” The smile dropped away. “What’s wrong?”
“I thought you were gone. I thought you were both . . .” He leaned against the wall and slid down it.
“No!” Sullivan said. “We just didn’t want to wake you up. You were out cold.”
“Snoring and everything,” Eden added, like it was a joke. Like he was supposed to laugh when he’d fallen asleep and his mistake could have cost both Eden and Sullivan their lives.
“How long was I out?” Vague memories surfaced of the sun coming up, the light weak behind the dresser he’d pushed in front the window. Dawn was the last thing he could remember.
“I woke up around ten and you’d already crashed.” Eden chewed and then swallowed her cereal. “It’s four now,” she said.
“Six hours?”
“You needed the sleep,” she insisted.
Instead of arguing, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Okay. What are we doing? What did you guys come up with?”
Eden answered. “If we want to talk to Madeline, Kristen, and Erin, at least we know where they’re all going to be tonight.”
He glanced up to find her dead serious. “We are not going to that ball, Eden,” he said instantly.
Both girls immediately responded.
“Jarrod, just listen to her—”
“Zach said everyone would be there! Maybe this Sider from Brooklyn will be, too!”
“You’ve got to be shitting me,” he said. “Kristen wants to kill you, not to mention what Vaughn would to do to us. Madeline’s not gonna have your back if you make her choose in front of them. You know that, right?”
Eden huffed and set the cereal aside. When she spoke, her voice grated on him, calm enough to be condescending. “We are going to Kristen’s tonight. I’m not sitting here waiting for the Bound or the Fallen to find us. I’m not waiting for them to take us like they did Zach.”
“That wasn’t my fault!” he yelled at her as he stood.
“Your fault?” Confusion furrowed Eden’s forehead, the defiant attitude gone from her as quick as it’d come. “Of course it wasn’t,” she said softly.
How could I just leave him? Even as he thought it, Jarrod knew there’d been no other choice. Zach would understand; he would have done the same for Erin.
“Jarrod?” Eden said.
His attention flicked between the two of them. Minutes had separated them from capture and escape. Minutes and demons. He had a vision—Sullivan’s screams as the Bound snatched her from his arms. Eden being dragged across the back of a booth and out the window. Both of them gone. Nothing he could do. A hard knot of terror and rage tightened in his stomach.
Jarrod spun suddenly toward the wall and slammed it with a punch. The drywall caved around his knuckles. He grimaced, cupping his fist to his chest. For almost a full minute, he stood there, dizzy with pain, endorphins, and embarrassment.
“What the hell was that about?” Sullivan said, standing up and reaching to check his hand.
Everything inside him built. He couldn’t lose it in front of the girls any worse than he already had. He staggered toward the bathroom, the only private place in the apartment. “Sorry,” he called out over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
Sullivan followed him and wedged her foot in the door as he tried to close it. “Would you wait a second?” she said. “Talk to me!”
She stood, stubborn and unmoving, until he finally moved aside. He was acting like a complete ass, but he didn’t know what else to do, how to make things better. He leaned, his hands braced on the wall above his head as she closed the door and slid past him. Already his knuckles were blue and bruising. Now, his body would be wasting Touch he could be passing to Eden on healing himself.
<
br /> Sullivan sat on the edge of the tub. “Come here,” she said, waving him down.
Adrenaline fading, he sunk to the floor in front of her and rested his forehead on her knees. His arms curled around her legs.
A drop of sweat ran down his nose and splashed on the tan tile. “I’m sorry I scared you,” he said.
“You didn’t.” Her tentative fingertips touched his neck, traced slowly from his hairline. He kept his head down, lost in the sensation of her touch, his lungs still heaving. “Your hand okay?” she asked softly as he rose onto his knees.
He nodded, his eyes burning and blurry. “I keep thinking about how it was almost us. If they got—” His voice cracked, and he leaned into the space where her neck and shoulder met. He kissed her there, brought his uninjured hand up and buried it in her hair. He prayed she wouldn’t pull away. He’d break. Lose it. If they got you, I couldn’t handle it.
Everything inside him felt on fire, searing. What if they come and I can’t stop them? “Please. I just . . . I need . . .”
His mouth crested over her jaw. He cupped the back of her head, his lips rough on her skin. His teeth grazed her earlobe, and the fingers that had been so gentle on his neck tightened.
They’re going to find us. His hands clasped her waist, the bare skin where her shirt lifted. I can’t let them. His palm slid across the fragile bones of her spine. Breakable. I don’t want her to die.
“Jarrod?”
A sound escaped him as his name left her, something wild and animalistic. The part of him that clung to control recoiled. He trembled, unable to catch his breath, one hand keeping her from falling into the tub.
“Hey,” she whispered, concern in her voice. She touched the side of his jaw gently. “Stop.”
He stared into her uncertain eyes. His face burned as he pulled away. “I’m sorry, I just can’t . . .”
“What can I do to help?” she asked before she slid off the tub to join him on the floor, moving to sit beside him. Her chin settled onto his shoulder. “Tell me what you need.”
A Touch Menacing Page 14
