by Wendi Wilson
The boys and I quickly trade goodbyes with the Pattons and Savanna before we walk out, admonishing them to be careful and that we’d see them later at our motel. Beckett closes the door behind us, turning the lock with an audible click.
“I almost feel sorry for the president,” Slade says, his head waggling back and forth.
“I don’t,” I reply as we head down the hall. “He’s a Class A creep.”
“I did say almost,” Slade responds, bumping his shoulder against mine with a grin.
I pull the phone back to my ear and say my sister’s name. Anxiety fills me when she doesn’t answer. The line is dead.
It’s fine. I’m fine. Grace is fine. We’re all fine.
The guard probably took his phone back from her, terminating the call. I try to call the number back, but it just sends me straight to a voicemail recording that states the mailbox is already full. I stab at my phone screen to end the call and shove the device into my back packet.
It’s fine.
“Come on,” Silas says, pulling me from my thoughts. He swings a door open, letting us out into the bright midday sunshine. “Let’s go get your sister.”
29
In the short drive to the motel, I manage to chew all of my fingernails down to jagged nubs. Silas and Slade try to distract me, speaking in their best documentary-host-voices as they point out the sights of D.C. I appreciate the effort, but nothing is going to relax my nerves until I have Grace in my arms.
“There it is,” I say, reading the name printed on the hand-painted sign. “Where is she?”
My eyes search frantically, looking for any sign of Grace. She told me the guards booted her out of the room and hightailed it out of there, the only one left waiting impatiently for her to finish our call so he could leave, as well.
“She has to be out here, somewhere,” I mumble as Silas drives the car slowly through the parking lot.
“Is that her?” Slade asks, pointing through the windshield to a shaded spot by the main office.
I squint my eyes, hoping to see further into the shadows. A girl huddles there, her face buried in her arms as her thin frame shakes. Black curls stand out from her head at every angle.
“Stop the car,” I demand, and Silas complies, hitting the brakes while I fling the door open and fly from the vehicle.
“Grace!” I shout. “Grace!”
As I run toward her, her head jerks up and she leans away from the wall. “Lizzie? Lizzie!”
She runs toward me and we crash together in a storm of tears and hugs and sniffles. I hold her at arm’s length and look her over. She looks good. No injuries. At least, no physical ones.
As if reading my thoughts, she starts to cry in earnest. “Mom and Dad just gave me to him, Lizzie. They told me I’d be fine, that it was all a game, but I overheard Brother Earl telling them I’d make good leverage to bring you and that girl Savanna into line.”
“I know,” I say, brushing her hair back. “And they were right. You are fine.”
No way am I getting into a conversation with her about our parents and their poor choices. But Grace shakes her head, her curls flying around her head like a halo.
“No,” she says, her voice cracking, “you don’t get it. I heard them. I heard Brother Earl tell them he might need to hurt me to make Savanna do what he wants. Lizzie… they agreed to it. They told him to do whatever it takes to fulfill God’s will and rid the Earth of the Alts.”
She cries in earnest then, burying her head against my chest. I wish I could comfort her in some way, reassure her that our parents make mistakes even though they really do love us. But I can’t, because I’m not sure it’s true.
My own tears spill over as we hold each other tight, crying out our pain, our relief, our frustration and our fear. Eventually, I remember where we are and that the Madsen brothers are there, waiting silently for us to finish our tearful reunion, giving us all the time we need. I pull back, looking Grace in the eyes.
“Gracie,” I say, using my pet name for her, “I want you to meet Silas and Slade Madsen. Boys, this is Grace.”
Grace angles her body away, half-hiding behind me as she eyes them warily. “They’re Alts,” she whispers, her voice laced with fear and disgust.
I turn and grab her shoulders, bending so I’m at eye level with her. I dig my fingers into her flesh, making her flinch and try to back out of my grasp. I don’t let her go. I need her to hear me.
“Grace, listen to me,” I say, my voice firm. “Alts are not the monsters Brother Earl made them out to be. They’re just people. People who have the ability to be good or bad, just like the rest of us. These boys, Savanna, and the Patton brothers did everything they could to save you. They are the reason you’re here, in my arms, instead of being hurt by Brother Earl. Do you understand?”
I can see fear in her eyes as she nods, giving me the answer I want just so I’ll let her go. I pull her into my chest and hold her there, murmuring apologies against her hair for hurting her. I have plenty of time to make her understand that our parents are wrong. That what they’ve been teaching us is wrong.
At least, I hope I do. If our parents fight to get her back, I may lose her altogether. At least Brother Earl won’t be a problem anymore. Thanks to Savanna. That asshat is going to jail for the rest of his miserable life.
We all climb into the car and I snuggle Grace against me in the backseat. As we ride to our motel to meet the others, I explain everything to her. I tell her everything Brother Earl and our parents made me do, and how Savanna forgave me for it all. I explain our plan to get her back from Brother Earl and his henchmen, and the part every Alt in our group played in making that plan a success. Particularly Savanna’s part.
I want her to understand that a group of Alts saved her from a man we trusted. A man our parents are so committed to, they handed her over to him to do with as he pleased. These kids saved her life. And they did it for me, a girl they have every reason to hate, but don’t.
Then, I call our parents. The conversation isn’t fun, but it’s necessary. I threaten them, telling them I’ll turn them in to the police if they try to take Grace back. They knowingly put her in harm’s way when they gave her to Brother Earl, and Grace heard them agree to let him hurt her, if necessary. If I have my way, they’ll never see her again.
We park and climb from the car, and I keep Grace locked tight in my arms. Slade knocks softly on Mr. and Mrs. James’ door. It swings open to reveal Wyatt on the other side, a grin splitting his face at the sight of us. The Madsen twins walk in, Grace and I following closely behind.
“Hey guys,” I greet them, sniffing loudly. “This is my little sister, Grace.”
“Hi, Grace,” Savanna replies. “I’m Savanna.”
Grace squirms out of my grip and lunges forward, wrapping her thin arms around Savanna’s waist. Savanna hugs her back before smoothing her black curls away from her face. Tears leak down Grace’s face as she looks up at her.
“Thank you for saving me,” she murmurs. “Lizzie told me what you did.”
Savanna smiles down at her. “We all did it, together.”
Grace backs out of her arms and looks at each of the Pattons. “Thank you,” she says.
“No problem, kiddo,” Wyatt replies, ruffling her hair.
Jett and Beckett nod, giving her their thousand-watt smiles. The expression on Grace’s face tells me she’s unsure, but hopeful. She wants to trust these people, but years of indoctrination have left her hesitant and uncertain. Just like I was.
Savanna’s mom intercedes, breaking the awkward silence that has fallen. “Grace, you can take a shower here, if Lizzie will grab you something clean to wear.”
“We’ll help,” Savanna says, heading for the door.
I hug Grace and tell her we’ll be right back. I’m nervous to leave her here with virtual strangers, but she seems to have latched onto Savanna’s mom. I guess she needs a maternal figure right now, someone to make her feel safe other than her big sister.
I’m okay with that.
We leave, Savanna and I trailed by her boys and the Madsen twins. As soon as we step outside, I throw my arms around her, unable to cage my relief and gratitude inside me any longer.
“Thank you, Savanna. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you for saving my sister.”
Silas opens the door to our room and I release her as we all file inside. I grab my bag and, plopping it on the bed, rummage through it to find something for my sister to wear.
“So, what now?” Savanna asks, acknowledging the elephant in the room. “If your parents really handed her over to Dr. Patton, can we actually give her back to them?”
“How can we not?” Beckett asks. “She’s their daughter.”
“They endangered her life,” Savanna argues.
“No,” I state, my voice firm. “She can’t go back there. I feel guilty enough, having left her with them in the first place. I knew they were crazy, but I left her anyway.”
I twist the shirt I’m holding into a tight knot, tears springing from my eyes… again. Silas and Slade converge on me, sandwiching me between them as they whisper comforting words in my ears. I know I should be embarrassed by the display, but I’m not.
“Well, we need a plan. They have a legal right to take her back,” Savanna continues once the Madsen boys break away from me.
“I called them on the way here,” I say, my voice low. “I told them that I knew what they did and if they tried to take Grace from me, I’d call the police. She will testify that they handed her over to that madman to use as leverage over me.”
“Over you?” Savanna asks, surprised.
I nod. “Grace and I agreed to keep you out of it if it comes to it. The video of you at the shelter I released never showed your face, so no one knows it was you. If we keep you out of this mess, saying it was me Dr. Patton wanted, you can go back to your normal life.”
Her eyes glaze over as she thinks about what I said, no doubt wondering what her normal is going to look like now. We have some decisions to make about our futures, first and foremost where those futures will be.
Savanna and I head back to her parents’ room to make sure Grace has settled in. She seems calm, content to be there with the adults, so we leave her watching television with Mr. and Mrs. James, who promise to take care of her.
I pause in front of the door to my room and Savanna stops in front of hers. We smile at each other and I waggle my eyebrows, which earns me a chuckle from my new best friend. Simultaneously swiping our keycards, we enter our rooms to be alone with our boys.
To figure out what to do for dinner. To figure out what to do with our lives.
30
“So, Lizzie, what did Dr. Patton mean when he called you his protégé?”
We’d pushed two big tables together so the seven of us could sit around it. Savanna’s parents decided to stay in the room and order delivery so Grace could rest up after her ordeal. The rest of us came out to a local pizzeria. The waiter dropped off two extra-large pepperoni pizzas and the boys are in the process of grabbing gooey slices when Savanna asks the question.
Everyone stops what they’re doing to stare at me. Their eyes are curious but not accusatory. They deserve to know, so I set down the plate I’m holding out to Slade and fold my hands in my lap with a sigh.
“He was grooming me to be his right hand and, eventually, his successor. A good little soldier. That’s what he liked to call me.” I pause, letting my eyes drift over them all. “Until I wasn’t.”
“But, he never even told you what his ultimate goal was,” Savanna surmises.
I shake my head. “He kept everything to himself. I knew more than most, as little as that was.”
Savanna must sense my discomfort with the subject, because she changes it.
“So, what are we going to do now?” she asks, taking a big bite of pizza.
“Well, we need to finish high school first,” Silas offers.
“He’s right,” Beckett agrees.
“But, you’ll have to leave them again,” Savanna says, her voice cracking as she points at the Madsens. “You’re so happy living with them.”
“You’re right,” Jett admits. “We are happy being with our brothers from another mother.”
“You’re making jokes right now?” she asks, her voice raising a few octaves.
She looks upset, like the thought of pulling the Pattons away from Silas and Slade really bothers her. She also looks like she wants to punch Jett in the face for making light of it. Hell, I’ve got her back. Maybe I’ll punch him in the face.
“Easy, tiger,” Wyatt cajoles from his chair beside her. He reaches over and interlaces their fingers.
“Savanna,” Jett says, growing serious, “graduation is what? A month away? I think we can survive a month without those knuckleheads.”
“But, where will you live?” she asks.
“In our uncle’s house,” Beckett says. “It’s our legal residence and we’re eighteen. Officially adults. And, as a bonus, he’s not going to be there, watching us through his creepy surveillance equipment.”
Savanna seems to relax a bit, her face flushing pink. She looks over at me.
“What about you?” she asks. “What do you think you’ll do?”
“I don’t know,” I reply. “I have my sister to think about and we can’t go back home.”
My eyes burn as the reality of the situation comes crashing down on me once again. I really don’t know what I’m going to do, or how I’m going to take care of a twelve year old kid. Savanna reaches across the table to squeeze my hand, offering me support and comfort. I give her a misty smile as Slade breaks the silence.
“They can stay with us,” he offers.
“I’m sure your parents will have something to say about your girlfriend living under their roof,” Savanna quips.
I suck in a quick breath at her word choice. The boys and I haven’t revealed our relationship status and, even though they asked me to be their girlfriend and I said yes, we haven’t really talked about it since.
Savanna realizes what she said and groans. She sends me an apologetic look and mouths, “Sorry.”
“Our mom loves our girlfriend,” Slade declares, stressing the title.
“Yeah, and she’ll love our girlfriend’s little sister, too,” Silas adds.
Okay, I can’t help it. My mouth lifts into a huge grin as I stare down at my plate. Silas and Slade make me so happy. Their simple act of claiming me and Grace as their own is just… amazing.
Wyatt laughs out loud, breaking any leftover tension with the sound. We all start eating, and the conversation turns, once more, toward the future.
“You know,” Silas says, “there’s a UCONN campus really close to home.”
“Yeah,” Slade adds. “We could all go there, together, in the fall.”
I look at Savanna and catch her frown. “It’s mid-May,” she says. “I’m sure the deadline for applications has passed. And what are the odds of us all getting accepted, anyway?”
“I’d say the odds are pretty damn good,” Slade mutters.
“I agree,” Jett says. “We just have to meet with the admissions officer.”
“Oh, as easy as that?” Savanna asks, her voice snarky.
He snaps his fingers. “As easy as that. We can be very persuasive.”
Savanna’s head jerks back at his nonchalant comment. It’s easy to see she’s having an internal struggle, trying to decide if persuading an admissions officer is a misuse of power, or simply a means to an end.
“Savanna,” Beckett says, “it’ll be okay. Your grades would get you in, anyway, once you make up the work you’ve missed. Plus, you have to do the work to stay there. We’d just be getting ourselves through the door.”
Savanna looks at me like I’ve somehow become her moral compass. “What do you think?”
“I think it would be awesome,” I admit, smiling.
It’s the truth. Smudging the line, using persuasion to get our fe
et in the door, is worth any tinge of guilt I may feel. We can get away from my parents and the crazy cult they believe so strongly in. Away from Savannah and all the bigoted, Alt-hating people that reside there.
And we’ll be together, all of us.
“Okay,” Savanna says. “I’m in.”
When we get back to the motel, Savanna and I check in with her parents and Grace while the boys go to our respective rooms. Grace is sound asleep in the bed, despite the early hour. Being held captive has been difficult on her.
Mr. and Mrs. James wave us toward the door, and the four of us step outside. They are wearing serious expressions, making me a bit nervous. Savanna catches my eye and I shrug.
“How’s she doing?” Savanna asks once her dad closes the door gently behind us.
“As well as can be expected,” her mom replies. “She’s shaken up, but she’s strong.”
“Just like her sister,” Savanna says, smiling at me.
Before I can respond, Mrs. James starts talking, her words slow and measured.
“So, Roman and I were talking,” she starts, crossing her arms over her chest as she locks gazes with me, “and we want you girls to stay with us.”
Shock. I don’t know how else to describe what I feel.
“That’s very nice,” I say, “but—”
“Where else would you go?” she asks, cutting me off. “Do you have any family you trust?”
My gaze drops to the ground. Without looking back up, I reply, “No.”
“You and your sister can’t go back to your parents,” Mrs. James declares, an edge of panic in her voice. “There’s no telling what they’d do if it benefitted their beliefs. She deserves more than that. You both do.”
“We can take care of her, like she’s our own daughter,” Mr. James adds.
Elation fights with doubt in my mind, each emotion trying to outweigh the other to become the victor. I want to believe them, to believe that they can raise Lizzie in a normal household as real, loving parents, but I know our mom and dad will never let that happen. Round one goes to doubt.
