“Whoa,” Brandon backed up a step at Amber’s question and she shot us an exasperated look.
“You didn’t tell him? What have you been doing?” She pointed at me, “And don’t say kissy face because I will never respect you again.”
“No,” I burst out, widening my eyes as I shook my head, trying to get her to hush.
“What do you mean where I die?” Brandon interjected, his gaze flickering over everyone and landing on me. Words stuck in my throat, threatening to choke me as I stared at him helplessly. “Can someone explain?”
“Really, dude?” Amber spoke up, of course, and I tried to speak, to stop her but she just wouldn’t shut up. “You never once questioned why she wore gloves? She experiences death when she touches someone, it’s why she’s all gloved up. Mercy here knows where you die when you speak, and Hope, she knows when you die just by looking at you.”
“Are you serious?” He asked, as I closed my eyes, unable to face his betrayed expression. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“No, it’s not a joke. You die in less than two weeks, along with me and several other students, and we need to figure out a way to stop it,” Amber continued, rolling right over my protests. “And right now, you’re Ground Zero.”
“I…” Brandon shook his head, “I have no idea what’s going on right now and I don’t think I want to know.” He glanced at me and I saw the uncertainty on his face, but when I didn’t deny her words it turned to disillusionment. He swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving mine as he backed out of the room and when I heard the door close behind him, all the words I’d wanted to say turned to ash.
“Do you ever think before you speak?” Mercy lamented, staring at Amber. I reeled around, yanking my gloves off, as rage roared to life inside me.
“Why would you do that?” I snarled, slamming both of my hands against her chest, a visceral satisfaction coursing through me at the thought of her death.
Pain seared through me, my body jerking as bullets riddled my body, each one a new agony. The world spun as I fell, my chest burning as I tried to gasp for breath, choking instead as blood filled my mouth. I stared at the sky as the screams around me grew muffled. Each breath was a struggle as blood coated my tongue and tears seeped from the corners of my eyes.
Bitter regret swirled through me as I realized we’d failed to stop it, and as I stared up at the empty night sky, the pain sharpening, all I wanted in that moment was to see Mercy. His frightened face appeared above me as if he’d heard my plea, and I felt my lips lift in a smile as I tried to speak. He shook his head, a resigned torment in his eyes and I felt the brush of his hand against my face, a distant part of me realizing he was wiping away my tears as darkness slowly stole him from my sight.
Violent coughs jerked my body as I rolled to my side, positive I’d see blood splattering the floor as I choked. “Joy,” someone cried, their hands careful to only touch me where cloth covered my skin. “Joy, can you hear me?”
I nodded, the movement sending pain shooting through every nerve ending. Death was never pleasant, but this was a new hell. Tears dripped to the floor as I tried to scrub the memory of Amber’s death from my mind. “Get her some water,” I heard as a hand rested on my shoulder and the weight of my gloves covered my hands. “Can you put them on?”
I didn’t bother answering, desperate to cover my exposed skin as my chest tightened, another violet cough racking my body. A hand supported me, gripping my shoulder tightly as I tried to retch up blood that wasn’t there.
I managed to tug the gloves onto my hands, but had to stop for a minute as agony shot through me, the phantom pain merely an echo of what it would actually feel like.
“I’m sorry.” The words were so soft I almost decided I hadn’t heard them, but as my eyes flickered open and I saw who was sitting there, supporting me, I knew she’d apologized.
“So am I,” I rasped, regret spilling through me as I slowly sat up. “No one should ever die like that.” I leaned forward as her hands hovered, ready to catch me, the taste of blood still in my mouth as I promised, “We will stop it.”
She nodded, blinking rapidly as she took in my expression. A bottle of water appeared in front of me and I grasped it gratefully, guzzling until I could no longer taste blood. I glanced up to see Mercy staring blankly at me. “What is it?” I asked and his eyes rose to meet mine.
“The last thing you said was Mercy and you smiled,” he replied, pain etched on his face. “Why?”
I shook my head, not realizing I’d done that. “I lived Amber’s death,” I explained. “As she was dying, you were there, comforting her.”
Houston made a pained noise and I glanced at him. “I had no idea you saw and felt all of that,” he admitted, jerking a hand over his eyes. I folded my hands, after making sure they were completely covered, the cold floor grounding me.
“Some deaths are easier than others. The better I know someone, the harder their death.” I smiled grimly. “Very much like grief.”
“I’ll talk to Brandon,” Amber promised. “I’ll make this right.” I shook my head, exhaustion overcoming me.
“Don’t, please.” I rolled my head toward her. “He needs time. We both do.” I swallowed back the threat of tears. “I should have told him, and I didn’t. I have to deal with that.”
Amber’s gaze dropped in shame, and I reached for her hand, gripping it tightly until she glanced up at me. “I’m not mad,” I swore, and I wasn’t. “I lived your death and I understand. I don’t blame you.”
“You’re a better person than me,” she whispered and I chuckled painfully.
“Not better. Different.” I struggled to my feet as Amber braced me. “I need to sleep,” I told them, barely able to stand as tremors went through me. “Catch me up later, okay?” They nodded as I shuffled out of the room, each stair step torture. I finally made it to the top and the safety of my room, where I collapsed on the bed, unwilling to take my gloves off even in the relative protection of my own space. A ding forced my head to lift as I dug my phone out of my pocket. The only people who should be texting me were downstairs.
“You could touch me. Why?” Brandon’s text gave me hope and I used my teeth to tug the glove off, typing my reply.
“You’re the exception.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hope
I slumped over the table, completely wrung out after watching Joy essentially die in front of me. Mercy didn’t fare much better, his expression shell-shocked as he sat across from me. Houston lowered himself into the seat next to me, but Amber stayed on the floor, arms wrapped around her knees.
“Come here,” I barked and her eyes rose to meet mine. “Amber,” I sighed as she shook her head.
“This is my fault,” she replied. “Her face, she was so angry and then after….”
“She was going to touch you. She had to, and she knew what would happen when she did,” I informed her. “Yeah, you shouldn’t have told Brandon like that, but what’s done is done. We still have to stop it, so get your butt over here.”
She bit her lip and for a moment, I thought she’d refuse again, but then Mercy held out his hand and she grasped it like a lifeline. “We all make mistakes,” he said, pulling her close. “What matters is how you react to them.”
“What did you find?” I questioned. “And don’t go running off on your own like that again,” I warned him with a narrow glare and he nodded.
“Kendra had told me where the Nightingale Foundation was, and I swear I never had any intention of going there. At least, not until I met you and Joy. When I realized it was an opportunity to possibly learn something, I had to go.”
“But it should have been abandoned,” Houston mentioned, glancing between us. “Right?”
“Right,” Amber sighed. “But it wasn’t.”
“They’re not doing experiments, but the lead doctor is still there,” Mercy revealed. “She’s been there recently, and she knows about us.”
“What?” I s
tared at him in shock and he pulled out his phone, swiping until he came to whatever he was looking for.
“Here, it might be easier to show you.” He handed me his phone and I held it between me and Houston, swiping through the pictures.
“She’s been watching us,” I whispered, seeing pictures of myself, Joy and Mercy pinned to a wall. “The three of us.”
“Yeah, but notice, all these pictures are within the last few weeks,” Houston observed. Mercy nodded at him.
“Good catch. I saw it too, and all of those are after Kendra died. We think her death must have triggered something.”
“Who is this doctor?” I asked as Houston took the phone from me, zooming in on one of the pictures.
“Lillian Dubois,” Mercy answered. “She was the boogeyman of my childhood.”
“All of these pictures came from her office?” Houston asked carefully, a funny note in his voice.
“Yeah, should be. Why?”
He flipped the phone around, the frame zoomed to an older picture off to the side where a group of people posed. “Because that’s my mom.”
We craned our necks to see the young woman he was pointing at, and I recognized a younger Miranda instantly. Mercy indicated the woman next to her, “That’s Kendra.” Houston turned the phone so he could see the woman.
“I don’t recognize her,” Houston replied, shaking his head.
“Your mom is part of this,” I sighed, resting my forehead against my palms tiredly.
“We don’t know that,” Houston protested instinctively.
“Dude, it’s a photo of your mom, Kendra, and Lillian Dubois. This isn’t some sorority pic. They’re standing in front of the Nightingale building. She’s part of it.” Mercy’s glance was sympathetic but resolute.
“Why?” Houston muttered angrily. “Why would she be a part of something like that and why didn’t she ever say anything?”
I reached over and grabbed his arm, squeezing. “Maybe to protect you and Joy?” I offered. “You’re the same age as Joy, but she didn’t come into your lives until she was two, right?” He nodded. “Maybe your mom left before then.” I was grasping at straws but the devastation on his face physically hurt me to see. “The only way to know for sure is to ask her.”
“And what if she’s still working for them?” Houston asked hollowly. “Someone took those pictures of you, Hope.”
“Let me see them again,” I gestured for the phone, swiping through the pictures Mercy and Amber had taken. “In all of these pictures we’re alone,” I mentioned, studying each shot. “Not together or with anyone else. Doesn’t that seem odd?”
“It also looks like they were taken with a long range camera,” Mercy commented. “The kind paparazzi use.” He exhaled. “Nothing in the pictures indicates who may have taken them.”
“How did they figure out it was the three of you though?” Houston asked wearily. “All this time, you’ve been safe and now,” he waved at the phone in my hand, “Now, this woman, Lillian, is targeting you.”
Mercy grimaced, suddenly uncomfortable. “I think it might be my fault.” I sent him a questioning glance and he took a deep breath. “Those pictures she has were all taken here, after I showed up.”
“But you didn’t have anything to do with them,” I stated, careful to avoid implying anything.
“Not directly, but I can’t help feeling responsible.” Mercy’s jaw tensed. “When Kendra died, there were some questions about how I was related to her and what to do with me. I took off, since Kendra always insisted we stay under the radar.” Regret reflected from his eyes. “I think I might have led her right to you.”
“So, what are we thinking here? Kendra died, which somehow alerted this Lillian Dubois to your existence, and she tracked you down here and then found me and Joy by following you?” I concluded, glancing around to see if we were on the same page. Mercy nodded, but Houston wasn’t looking at me, and Amber seemed lost in thought. “Any other theories?”
“We can’t discount Houston’s mom,” Amber replied, focusing on me. “If Kendra’s death alerted Lillian to Mercy, then maybe she reached out to Miranda.”
“Which led her to Joy,” I questioned, lifting my eyebrow and Amber nodded. “Then me?”
“Exactly. You’re the only one with no connection back to the foundation,” Amber stated and I shook my head in disagreement.
“My dad was a janitor there.”
“There is no chance Frank talked to Lillian Dubois and we’re still here,” Mercy argued. “He was ready to hit the road last night. He had no idea about any of this.”
“Which brings us back to my mom,” Houston said, his gaze daring us to contradict him. “She knew about Joy, where she came from. It wouldn’t have been difficult to connect the dots about what she could do.” He shook his head, an expression of self-loathing crossing his face. “And then I brought Hope here.”
“Hey, I brought myself, remember?” I snapped my fingers in front of his face. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“It’s hard not to,” he grunted. “My mom knew and she still let Joy suffer, think she was alone, and labeled her as autistic.” Pain filled his eyes. “No matter how I look at it, my mom is guilty.” I couldn’t deny his words, and bit my lip to keep from spouting meaningless condolences that would only come off as pitying.
“If we think she’s involved, do you think it’s a good idea to talk to her?” Mercy asked, his gaze on Houston. “You know her best.”
“I don’t know her at all,” he said bitterly, before sighing. “I need to talk to Joy.” His gaze flickered to me. “Then we’ll decide.” I nodded in agreement, Mercy and Amber following suit.
The sound of the front door opening caused Houston to tense, but he relaxed slightly when we heard, “Honey, I’m home,” in a booming voice.
“My dad,” Houston informed us.
“We should probably go,” Mercy suggested, standing with Amber. “Let us know what you decide.”
“We’ll make the decision together,” Houston corrected, hugging me close as he brushed a kiss against my forehead. “This involves all of us.”
Mercy nodded jerkily, his gaze sweeping over me in Houston’s arms. Houston’s dad walked in, coming to a startled stop at seeing all of us. “Hello,” he greeted us. “I didn’t realize we had company.” He smiled, but I could see the question in his eyes.
“Joy is upstairs,” Houston answered and his dad nodded.
“Will you be staying for dinner? He asked us. “I order a mean pizza.” We shook our heads and I felt Houston’s chest lift as he inhaled.
“We were just leaving,” I told his dad. “My dad is expecting me.”
“Okay, well you’re welcome anytime,” he replied, leaving the kitchen. “I’m going to check on Dad.” He went into Gramps’ room and Houston let out the breath he’d been holding.
“I’m going to talk to Joy tonight,” he murmured under his breath so only I heard. “She’ll probably call you.”
I nodded, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’ll be waiting.”
His expression was torn and I could see he was struggling with something. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m sorry if my mom did this to you.”
I shook my head. “We don’t know anything for certain, but your mom didn’t do this to me. My ability, all of our abilities, are a side effect.”
“Yeah, but if this Lillian chick found you because of my mom…..and you die –” he couldn’t finish, and I tightened my hold on his waist.
“Houston, we will figure this out and we will stop it. I knew when I was going to die long before I met you, so we can’t blame that on your mom, okay?” I met his eyes, nodding slowly, until he matched me. “We don’t know all the facts, so until we do, we’re going to ask questions and not jump to conclusions.”
An unwilling chuckle escaped him. “You sound so confident. How are you not completely terrified? I’m terrified for you.”
“Death is inevitable. It doesn’t scare
me,” I confessed. “Leaving the ones I love behind,” I sucked in a sharp breath, “That’s harder to accept.” I met his eyes. “It’s why I didn’t get involved. I didn’t date or have friends except for Amber so I wouldn’t leave anyone behind to mourn me. Things are different now. I’m determined to live, to have a life with you.” My gaze dropped as I admitted I wanted a life with him and his finger tilted my chin up.
“I want a life with you too,” he replied quietly. “And I will do whatever it takes to make sure we have the chance.”
***
“You’re starting to freak me out,” I said, turning as I felt Mercy’s gaze on me again.
“Sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “Can I help?”
I was about to say no when I saw his face. “Sure, you can set the table,” I offered, motioning to the cabinet. “Now, you want to tell me why you keep staring at me?”
He went to the cabinet, not speaking as he took out three place settings. “Houston seems like a good guy,” he finally said and my brows rose in surprise.
“He is,” I answered carefully, wondering where he was going with this. “You seem to be getting along with Amber.”
“She’s,” he paused and I laughed.
“Amber,” I finished for him and he smiled, relaxing a little.
“Exactly. Unexpected and undeniable.”
“Good description,” I said approvingly as he set out the plates. After a second, I asked, “Why did you go there today?” He faltered for a second, then glanced up as I continued, “You called her the boogeyman.”
“It’s strange to me that you don’t feel that way toward her,” he confessed as he continued to set the table, the activity seeming to help him speak. “Lillian Dubois was the monster under my bed. I was terrified she’d come and take me away from Kendra and the only life I knew.” He finished setting the table and sank down into the wobbly chair. “Kendra would tell me that Lillian Dubois had more right to me than she did and if she ever found out about me, she’d come and take me.”
“That’s horrible,” I whispered, leaving the stove to come sit at the table with him. “Why would she do that?”
Expiration Date Page 18
