I was in my room, having just finished getting dressed for the evening and fixing my makeup. While my bedroom wasn’t nearly as messy as Scarlett’s, it was hardly neat and tidy. My desk was a clutter of items both school and personal related, and there was a pile of clean clothes in the corner just waiting for me to put them away. My stuffed bear collection sat on my rocking chair watching Ricky and I dance around and sing. Well, I was dancing and singing. Ricky was on his wheel. But judging by the way he was running, he was very into Lady Gaga.
“How’s she doing?”
I turned off the music and glanced around to see Eric sitting on my bed. He appeared a little more relaxed than he had been the last time I’d seen him. I wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
“Hunter’s getting better,” I answered. “I haven’t seen her, and she hasn’t woken up, but she’s going to be okay.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do.” That seemed to be enough. “Eric, how are you?”
He just shrugged.
“I’m about the same. I can’t take back what I did, so I’m just waiting.”
“Waiting?” I said as I sat down next to him. “For what?”
Eric considered that for a moment.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I have a gut feeling, but I really don’t know what I could be waiting for, or when it’ll happen. Can you tell Hunter that I hope she feels better?”
“I can tell her,” I said. “Hunter knows about me, but it might be awhile before I can give her the message.”
“I know,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”
“Oh,” I was embarrassed. “You saw that, huh.”
“Kinda,” Eric smiled. “Relax, it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone.”
“Ha, ha,” I said.
“So you’re going out tonight with Payne?” Eric asked, changing the subject.
“Of course with Payne,” I countered. “Who else?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Eric replied. “That Dante guy was watching you pretty closely.”
“Stop,” I said. “He was not. And I barely even remember who he is. I mean, Dante? Dante who? I’m not interested.”
“I never thought you were,” Eric said. “At least, not until now. That was way too much denial.”
“Shut up,” I complained. “I’m not over-denying anything. I deny that I denied anything at all.”
“You’re doing it again,” Eric said. “What’s with this guy?”
“Bristol,” my uncle called from downstairs, interrupting us. “Your date’s here.”
“I can’t explain it now,” I said to Eric. “Maybe later, if you’re around.”
“Hey,” Eric smiled. “Maybe I’m still here so you can spill the dirty details. You know me. I love the deets.”
I couldn’t help but laugh as I went to the door. I shut the lights and turned to tell Eric that I’d see him later, but he was already gone.
Within an hour of leaving our favorite restaurant after dinner, we were snuggling under the willow tree in our favorite spot—not that we spent the entire time snuggling.
Pre-snuggling, Payne’s kisses had been hot and hungry. It didn’t help that every time he touched me, I saw a flash of us doing far more than we were doing tonight. It would have been so easy to just keep going, but I wasn’t ready for that yet.
“I’m sorry,” I said, as I rested in his arms.
“For what?” Payne asked. “I feel like I should apologize. I ate most of the onion rings.”
“Well, they were your onion rings,” I said.
“Never stopped you before,” he teased, before changing the subject. “What are you sorry about?”
I felt really guilty about the vision I’d have of me and Dante, but I really didn’t want to tell Payne about it. Besides, I hadn’t done anything wrong. Yet.
“I know how guys are,” I said. “You never, um, pressure me.”
Payne leaned over and kissed the top of my head.
“Bristol, it’s not that I don’t think about it,” Payne said. “I just figured . . . well . . . when you’re ready, you’ll tell me. After all, you probably know when we’re supposed to . . . you know . . . ”
“I don’t really know,” I said. “I just know we shouldn’t . . . you know . . . yet. I don’t know when I’ll feel it’s right to . . . ”
I hesitated. We both laughed a little at the sudden silence.
“How pathetic are we?” I said. “We can’t even say it.”
“I can say it,” Payne declared. “Sex, all right? I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”
“Well, thanks for that,” I said. “I’m also afraid that whenever we finally do decide to . . . be together . . . that we might get . . . interrupted. In a supernatural kind of way.”
Payne was silent for a moment as he thought that out.
“Okay,” he said, “I never really considered that. You’d think there would be a sort of supernatural ‘do not disturb’ sign we could hang up.”
“Where would you hang it?” I asked.
Payne just laughed.
We lay next to each other in silence for a while. I felt so safe here with Payne. No matter what was wrong, he always made me feel sure that everything would be okay.
“There’s something else,” I said. “You’ve been really patient with the whole boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Most people would get insulted. I just hope you know it’s not because you aren’t boyfriend material or anything. You know that, right?”
“I know that’s not why,” Payne answered. “Bristol, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me.”
“I’m just not ready to call you my boyfriend. I don’t want to date anyone else, and I don’t want you to date anyone else, but something is holding me back.”
“Is this a personal something?” Payne asked. “Or more of a supernatural something?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Both? Maybe?”
“All right,” Payne replied. He smiled at me, but something about it seemed forced. “Well, when you’re ready, let me know. The most important thing is that you tell me what’s going on.”
I sighed again.
“Bristol,” Payne said. “Is there something going on that you’re not telling me?”
“Maybe,” I said. “You’re not going to like it. It’s probably nothing.”
“Bristol,” Payne said. “Tell me, please.”
How could I not be honest with him? But I just couldn’t tell him about the visions I was having about Dante, so I went with something else.
“I saw someone get killed,” I blurted out.
“What?” Payne said and sat up suddenly. “Who? Where? When?”
“You forgot to ask why,” I said.
“Don’t,” Payne snapped. “Have you told your uncle? Is it someone we know?”
“I haven’t told anyone,” I said. “I’m kinda hoping I don’t have to.” I noticed his unhappy expression. “It’s not my fault!”
“Bristol, if there’s a killer out there, people could get hurt.”
“Oh, relax,” I said. “Nobody’s been hurt yet. I didn’t see a murder,” I pointed to my eyes with two fingers. “I mean I saw it. You know. Saw it.” I gave him an exasperated jazz hands maneuver.
“You mean,” Payne paused for a moment. “Oh, you saw it, Bristol-style. Well, still . . . you should still tell your uncle.”
“Why?” I asked. “He can’t arrest a person because they might kill someone. It hasn’t happened. I’m hoping it doesn’t. At first, I really thought it might not, since the person who was killed, well . . . I didn’t even know them, but now . . . ”
Payne nodded.
“Which one?” he asked. “Was it Scarlett or Dante?”
Of course Payne would figure it out.
“Scarlett,” I said. “I can’t figure out why. She seems so nice. I just don’t understand.”
I nodded.
“Who?”
Now I shook my head.
“Bristol,” Payne pleaded. “You can tell me. I promise, I won’t tell anyone without your okay. Who kills her? It’s not . . . it’s not me, is it?”
“No,” I said. “Don’t be crazy. Why would you say that?”
“Well, I nearly killed you.”
“You were possessed. That was Jay.”
“Yeah, well,” Payne replied. “It was still my hands around your throat. I’m surprised you never had a vision of that.”
I didn’t say anything. I just stared at the grass beneath us.
Payne kept talking. “Did you see that happening? Did you know I was going to nearly kill you?”
“Maybe,” I said with a shrug.
He groaned, got up from the ground and began to pace.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Or why did you let me get close to you, when you knew that would happen? What were you thinking?”
“Hey,” I said. “It’s not my fault. Look at everything else that happened. I saw us together. I mean, in the future together. I knew both flashes couldn’t be right. I’d had hundreds of visions of you not killing me, but only that one that kept popping up where you did hurt me, and . . . ”
“Wait,” Payne interrupted. “What? When did you have the first vision of me killing you?”
“I don’t remember,” I lied. “It was a while ago.”
“Was it before or after we met?” Payne asked.
“Before.”
“Before or after you came to Spirit?”
“Before.”
“Before or after your parents were killed?”
I was silent, but Payne had already figured it out.
“Bristol, how the hell old were you when you first saw me kill you?”
“Six,” I blurted out.
“Six years old,” Payne whispered. “Six. And you were having dreams of me killing you and on top of that, us . . . you know?”
“Well,” I said. “I hadn’t had dreams of us together by that point. I had the murder dream for a few months. Then I saw some of you on your own. You were always getting hurt, somehow or another. Which, by the way—you’re mad at me for keeping things from you, but you never talk about how reckless you were.”
“Don’t try and change the subject,” Payne snapped.
“Right,” I said. “Well, then, the year I turned seven, I saw us getting married. It was on my birthday, one year after the murder dream. Which I kept having, until after it happened for real.”
Payne just stood there and blinked at me. I figured I might as well finish at this point.
“I always knew that it was me,” I said, “even though I was older in the dream. I could recognize myself, just like I always knew who you were. I had so many flashes. Some of us kissing—some of us fighting. I’d seen this place as well. I’d seen so many things that made me want you to be real, but one vision, the most common one, was the one where you kill me. It wasn’t like I could control them or anything.
“I tried to pretend that it didn’t matter,” I continued as Payne watched me. I wasn’t able to decipher what was going on behind his eyes. “I referred to you as dream boy. I didn’t know what else to do. It was out of my control. So, when I met you, right after my parents were killed, I decided to stay away from you. But then we talked, and you figured out about me because of Jared, and then one thing led to another and before I knew it, you kissed me. Although, that took a really long time before it happened, but once it did? Oh. My. God. You couldn’t expect me to not be with you after that. I mean, you really know how to kiss. And then Jay with the cow, and Zach, and before I knew it, you killed yourself for me!”
“Bristol—” Payne tried to interrupt.
“No, shut up.” I cut him off this time. “Let me finish. You killed yourself to save me, over and over again. How am I supposed to handle that? How do I look at you, knowing what you were willing to do for me, and knowing I can’t ever pay you back? And I’m sorry, but I can’t help the fact that I couldn’t stay away from you, or the fact that I can’t control these visions, or these feelings that tell me what I should do. I can’t help being a freak.”
“Hey,” Payne stepped up to me, grabbing me and looking into my eyes with such intensity that it made me shake. “Don’t call yourself that. You’re so beautiful and brave and wonderful. Nobody had ever known about that part of you before, and yet you shared it with me, to help me. You helped me, and Aunt Breanne, and Jared. Hearing all of this just makes me realize how brave you were. Bristol, you are amazing. You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever known. You’re worth a thousand deaths. Don’t ever forget that.”
I just stood there and stared into his eyes. The eyes that I knew I wanted to look into for the rest of my life. I could almost say that to him. I wanted to.
I said something else instead.
“It was your grandfather. I saw Varick kill Scarlett Underhill.”
Payne’s expression hardened. I was ready for him to yell at me. I was even ready for him to insist I take it back, but instead, he just pulled me to him and held me.
That’s when I heard the Shadow Creatures howl.
- five -
Sugar
Payne didn’t want me to tell my uncle or anyone else what I’d seen—at least not yet.
We both agreed to keep it to ourselves and just try and keep an eye on things. Which, in the case of Varick McKnight, was hard. He wasn’t someone I saw all the time, and he usually spent the better part of his days in business meetings. You’d be surprised how many products McKnight Industries builds, manufactures, develops, manages, or even debuts on a daily basis.
Instead, Payne’s thought was to stick close to Scarlett for a couple of weeks. Of course with Payne working, it meant the sticking mostly fell to me, and it also meant me spending more time with Dante by extension.
I didn’t want to be alone with Dante too much. I didn’t think it was a good idea. Of course, I hadn’t shared that with Payne, but nevertheless, I still needed a buffer.
So I used my secret weapon.
“What are we doing this weekend?” Maggie asked as she, Scarlett, Dante and I walked through the hallway after history. It was Monday morning. We were headed for the lunchroom. “Are we going to go see that new Channing Tatum movie? I think he takes his shirt off in it.”
“I think it would be a crying shame if he didn’t.” Scarlett drawled. “What about you, Bristol? You want a little Channing Tatum?”
“Who doesn’t?” I asked.
“Hey, I have absolutely no desire to go see that guy pull his shirt off and give some girl smoldering looks for two hours,” Dante interrupted.
“Well,” Maggie said, looking thoughtful. “I think there’s a new action movie out, too. Matthew McConaughey also takes off his shirt.”
Dante rolled his eyes.
“Maybe,” I said, “we can plan it for late Saturday. I think if we go after seven, Payne and Bryan can join us. Maybe they can strong-arm Ian into going.”
“What about some of Payne’s other cousins?” Maggie asked. “Like Toby?”
“Why don’t you ask him?” I said.
“Me?” Maggie replied with panic in her eyes. “I can’t. Not me; I’ll die. You ask him.”
“Okay,” I said. “If I remember.”
“If?” Maggie looked panicked.
I wiggled my eyebrows at her. Remembering all the times she did that to me when I’d first met Payne. Maggie responded with a look of utter panic.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll have Payne invite his cousins.” Maggie smiled and clapped her hands. “Except for Blasé. I don’t want him there.”
Maggie’s smile faded. “Are you sure? Won’t that upset Payne?”
I scowled and Maggie looked like she was going to object, but Scarlet stepped forward.
“If Bristol doesn’t want Blasé there, than we shouldn’t invite him.” She placed her hand on my shoulder in a show of solidarity. “We girls need to stick together, and Payne had best not argue. Not if he knows what’s good for him.”
Maggie frowned. While she was never a fan of Blasé, she also didn’t like conflict.
“No Blasé, and that’s final,” I said. “Scarlett is right. Payne better not object.”
I don’t know why I felt so angry about the mere suggestion of inviting him, but in that moment, I was determined to avoid Blasé for the rest of my life. And I decided Scarlett was right. If Payne knew what was good for him, he wouldn’t object.
When I told Payne what we had planned, and who was or wasn’t invited, he got a look on his face that told me he didn’t agree.
“How long are you going to be mad at him?” Payne asked. “He’s my cousin, and deep down, he’s a good guy. I’m sure he’s sorry for how he treated Eric.”
“Oh, really?” I responded. “You know this how? Has he said anything to you?”
Payne just shuffled his feet.
“Why should I think he’s sorry?” I asked, louder than I should have. “Every time I see Blasé, he glares at me like he’d like to shove me off a cliff, or worse. He hates me. I can’t believe you’re taking his side!”
“I’m not,” Payne insisted. “But we’ve grown up together. Am I supposed to just write him out of my life? We can’t just turn our backs on him. He has to be able to move on from this.”
“What about Eric?” I snapped.
“Bristol,” Payne said, trying to bring his voice down, because people were staring. “Eric’s gone, and I’m sorry for that. You know how much I liked him. But Blasé is still here. We can’t just pretend that he isn’t.”
At that, I lost my temper. “I tell you what: you want to invite Blasé to a movie? You go right ahead. You want to hang out this weekend with him? Fine. Just keep him away from me.”
As I turned on my heel to storm away, I saw Archer McKnight watching me. He looked pale and thin, like he hadn’t slept or eaten for days. I thought about saying something to him, but honestly, there was still a part of me that blamed Archer, too. True, he’d started to change, but where Eric was concerned, it was too little, too late.
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