by Snow, Sheena
“I’m yours,” I groaned into his mouth. “Yours. Yours. Yours.”
“Mine.” His lips grazed over me. “You’re mine.” The walls creaked and cracked around us. “All mine.”
“What the heck is going on? The building is practically threatening to collapse on itself. I slip out for one—”
The door clicked and before either of us could pry our lips or bodies off each other, the door swung open to a flabbergasted, jaw-hanging Bonnie.
My heart stilled.
My hands were still embedded in Alec’s hair, his hands were still clutching my thighs, and our lips were hot, red, and fully chapped.
Crap.
“Well.” She coughed. “At least all that yelling was able to turn into something . . . productive.”
I scrambled out of Alec’s arms and tugged my oversized shirt down just as Bear’s and Kyle’s heads and wide eyes popped in the doorframe.
Great.
My face flamed, and Alec stood in front of me, crossing his arms.
“We’re, um, going to the park.” Bonnie played with her massive curls. “And we, um, wanted to invite you, or at least give you the heads-up. Yup.” Bonnie clasped her hands behind her back.
“I’m thinking they’re not going to be interested.” Kyle winked, and Bonnie elbowed him in the ribs.
“You two really should come,” Bear said, “because any longer up here and I swear there’s not going to be a first floor anymore.”
I wasn’t sure if it was possible for my face to get any hotter but somehow it did.
“The both of you.” Bonnie rolled her eyes. “I can’t wait until you get girlfriends and then it’ll be Vienna’s turn to embarrass you.” She snapped her fingers in their face.
“The park?” Alec rubbed his face. “Yeah, I guess.” He looked at me, and I couldn’t read what was going on in his eyes. “A little fresh air would be good.”
I couldn’t help wondering if that meant he could clear his head and rethink about what just happened between us.
I backed away and pulled my shirt as far down as it could go without outlining my whole chest.
“All right then. Out. All you boys. Let her get dressed.” Bonnie ushered Alec out, and when she shut the door I met Alec’s hungry, possessive eyes.
That, Vienna, was only the beginning of a devouring. And you’re mine. All mine, his eyes said.
My knees wobbled. His hunger reached down inside of me, fanning me to life. I tugged at the now-too-tight shirt and fanned it against my neck.
After that look, I was ready to rip my own clothes into shreds.
Tyler State Park was beautiful, even in wintertime.
The lake looked like a frozen sky. Iridescent blue ripples reflected along the shore. The trees were stripped of their leaves filling the air with a cool, minty musk.
Bonnie, Bear, and Kyle took off for a jog, leaving Alec and me alone. I caught their winks as they jogged away.
Alec had avoided my gaze the whole car ride. And I’m pretty sure it was better that way. Around him I felt like an animal in the middle of heat. And after that look in his eyes, it seemed my heat was ten times worse for him.
I kicked a rock on the path and shivered in the cold, clear, park air. Glad for the cold. For once.
“Where’s Peach?” I asked.
“Keeping watch at the hotel.”
And as far away from me as possible.
“You must be loving it here,” I said. The wind blew through the trees stirring up dirt and flew around my hair.
“I like the quietness of it.”
Ah. The quietness. And here I was trying to talk up a storm. Men can be so complicated.
I leaned against the bark of a pine tree and watched him walk down to the ridge of the lake, giving him his space. I took in his broad shoulders and jet-black hair. Even though his exterior looked human, it was what was inside of him that made him more human than most humans even are. If only he could see it.
I turned to walk the other way and let my fingertips run across the rough bark of the trees and the dry leaves of the shrubs. My boots snapped over twigs and critters scuffled in and out of branches.
A leaf rustled, falling along the path, twirling through the beams of sunlight. I stopped and watched.
As it floated to the floor, everything around me slowed along with it. The rays of light shone in and out around the shadow of the spiraling leaf, making the park sparkle and shimmer.
The little leaf twirling through the air. Sparkling. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning.
Spinning. Spinning. Spinning.
So tiny. So small. So insignificant in the forest encompassing it, filled with millions of other leaves. And yet it brought its own beauty to the silent forest.
So weathered and beaten on the outside but so vibrant and beautiful for a moment or two on the inside.
I picked the leaf up and held it to the light. Sunlight highlighted the tiny veins and poked through the minute holes.
“Vienna?” Alec’s voice was soft and rooted my feet to the ground. This was the part of him that wasn’t so human. The creeping-up-on-people part.
“Alec?” I hesitated and then pushed my knees up off the ground. I turned to his pain-laced eyes and my stomach clenched.
And everything fell away. Everything he kept from me. Everything he pretended wasn’t there. Everything he pretended didn’t happen.
I pulled him into my arms, and spread my fingers across his back. He closed his body around me and rested his face against my head.
“I’ve killed more humans than I can count. I’ve hunted so many people it would take me hours to recite their names. I’ve hurt children. I’ve—”
“Shhh.” I pressed a finger to his lips. “It’s all in the past now.”
“I wanted to tell you so bad. I just . . . I never knew how.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Would you change your mind about me if I told all the hurt I’ve caused in this world?” I whispered.
He wove his fingers between the strands of my hair. “I can’t image you harming anyone that didn’t deserve it.”
“I’ve harmed plenty that didn’t deserve it.” I thought about the soundproof wall again, and everyone locked inside, and pushed it away.
We held each other. Me leaning on him, him leaning on me. “I saw it,” I said.
His fingers played with my ponytail. “You saw what?”
“The beauty.” I tightened my fingers on his jacket. “The beauty in the simplicity.” I slid the leaf out of my pocket.
“You found it?” He took the leaf and twirled it from the stem. “In that?”
I rolled my eyes. “You think you’re so funny. Don’t you?” I snatched it from him and shoved the leaf back in my pocket.
“You’re keeping it?” He crossed his arms and cocked his eyebrow.
I rolled my eyes at him.
Yes. I smiled. Just like I’m keeping you.
When we came back to the hotel, the sun was setting and the guys were helping Bear clean off the dirt from the car. Bonnie sat next to me, on the curb, resting her chin on her knees. “Steve would”—her hair bounced around her face—“he would have liked you”—her voice kept getting lower until it was as if the wind had carried her words away entirely.
I squeezed her hand, so small under mine. “How long were you together?”
“Three years.” Her eyes glazed over. “Three too short years.”
I swallowed. “It sounds like they were three wonderful years though.”
“Yeah . . .” She threaded her fingers through mine, white and auburn interlocking. “They were. That they definitely were.”
She smiled, her beautiful fu
ll lips turning up at the end.
I rested my head on my knees, like her, and saw Bonnie’s eyes flashing back to memories of him. And I saw the joy and the love displayed on her face. I stared ahead and let her enjoy the images. I hoped they were marvelous ones.
She squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, causing our hands to swing through the air.
The men scrubbed and bubbles lifted on the wind, buoyant and glistening, dancing along with the breeze. And like all bubbles, eventually sinking to the earth, and upon contact, popping.
“We need to talk.” I jumped at the sound of Peach’s voice, from over my shoulder.
“Geez,” I huffed and clutched at my racing heart. “Not all of us have that silent and deadly-approach-thing mastered.” I bent over and breathed.
She gave me a frozen blue arctic stare and before I could open my mouth, Bonnie tugged me next to her again, plopping me back on the curb.
“Any news?” Alec tossed the sponge into the bucket causing more suds to fill the air.
Peach’s stern lips pursed and she nodded her head.
“They’re close.” Kyle said, gazing in what I assumed was the direction of the cottage and then shuddered. “I feel them.”
Alec’s eyes narrowed in the same direction as Kyle’s. “We’re leaving tonight. How many are there?”
“Enough,” Kyle said, and Alec grimaced, understanding everything Kyle didn’t need to say.
I swallowed, wishing they wouldn’t leave me in the dark. It was almost worse. The not knowing. The not understanding. Maybe robots didn’t realize how imaginative human’s minds could be—how complicatingly specific and worst-case-scenario we could immediately assume the situation would be.
“I have an idea. Come on, guys,” Peach said and left, leaving a worried-filled presence swirling above us.
Alec walked over to Bonnie and me, soap suds still on his wrists, and helped us up. “Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen.” He kissed my brow. “Pack up and then relax for the road tonight.”
I gave him my best Bonnie smile and he walked off with Kyle. Bonnie sauntered over to Bear and helped him put away the washing equipment, using her super speed.
I stood there, twisting my fingers.
How long could I keep doing this to these people and how long before the robots came knocking down our door? And then what would happen to them?
I made my way into the hotel room, dropped the key on the desk, and collapsed onto the bed, letting my head fall between my knees.
Everything was so screwed up. What would happen to Alec, to Bonnie, to Bear, to Kyle if they were caught? I squeezed my eyes shut and warm tears slid down my face.
For the first time since I left my house, all I wanted was my dad.
I sank back in the chair and stared at the ceiling through my watery eyes.
How were any of us going to get out of this mess?
I rolled my head, and as if the universe was talking to me, there, reflecting in the light, in Peach’s suitcase was a gleaming black cell phone.
My heart eased and I felt like I had just been given a gift.
I licked my lips and I crawled forward. My fingers flittered down into Peach’s bag, Dad’s voice just moments away, and withdrew the black shiny phone. I cleaned away the dried tears from eyes and made for the bathroom door, locking it behind me.
Chapter 26
“Hello?” Dad picked up on the first ring.
My heart stretched for its other pieces at the sound of Dad’s voice and my lip trembled.
“Who’s there?” Dad asked.
“Me,” I whispered and slid down the door to the white tile floor.
“Vienna? My baby. Is that . . .?” His voice cracked. “Is that really you?”
“Oh, Dad,” I whimpered and clutched the phone to my ear. “Dad.”
“Shh, shh, there, there now. Oh, Vienna.” Dad’s voice lightened. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, “I’m fine. I just . . .” My lip trembled again. “I just really miss you.”
And I want out of here. And I don’t want to put these people in harm’s way. And I don’t know what to do to make anything better. And I don’t know where else to turn.
“And we miss you more than you could possibly know,” Dad said.
We?
“Robotatouille is doing a fine job of taking care of us.”
I nearly snorted. The irony of the whole dang thing. “How are you even managing knowing what he is and that he’s all over the house?”
“It’s better than being unprepared. Vienna.” Dad’s voice filled with urgency, and I could imagine him waving his arms around at me from the other side. “I’ve been doing research and I’m on the edge of something. I feel it. Hang in there for a little bit longer, Vienna. Can you do that for me?”
“Of course, Dad,” I said, sounding like my old self again. “And I’m glad you’re okay. Please, keep being safe.”
“Always am.” I heard him smile. “Your mom just left. She’ll be devastated she missed you but I’ll tell her you called.”
My heart dropped. “Of-Of course.”
“She would have loved to hear your voice.”
I nodded, my throat suddenly filled with cotton.
“We miss you.”
“And I . . .” I cleared my throat. “And I miss you.”
The hotel door clicked open.
My eyes widened, and I scrambled to flush the toilet. “I have to go,” I whispered.
“Take care of yourself, Vienna.”
“You too, Dad.” I hung up and pressed the phone against my forehead. I should have felt guilty for calling. But I didn’t. I missed Dad. And I missed Dad’s voice. I even missed Mom—I did—covered in paint and lost in her own world.
I closed my eyes and waited. My soundproof walls didn’t budge—didn’t echo, didn’t vibrate, didn’t creak.
Nothing.
Mom was lost on the other side.
I leaned my head back against the door.
Blissful, beautiful silence.
“Vienna?” Peach pounded. “You in there?”
Crap!
I shoved the phone into my parka and opened the door.
Peach eyed me, noting the redness in my eyes. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.”
I nodded. She turned around and gathered her things from the counter and as she did, I dropped the cell phone into her luggage and grabbed her purse lying right next to it. “Here,” I said, and handed Peach her purse.
Peach stilled and gave me that what-just-happened-to-you-look.
I shrugged. “Meet you outside.” I stashed my hands in my pockets and walked out, leaving her standing there, looking as if her purse had suddenly been sprinkled in fairy dust and lifted off the carpet.
I turned around as we drove past them, leaving them in the dust. Far in our dust. “You act as if this is a racing competition.” I held my hands up to the heater.
“Everything is a competition for us,” Alec said.
Humph. “I see. And why do you even have cars if you guys all have super speed?”
“Because.” Alec pulled my hand away from the heater and kissed the top. His kiss was even hotter than the air vent. “Not all of us have super speed.”
“Ah. You mean Kyle, Bear, and Peach,” I said. His fingers caressed my hand. “I keep forgetting you all have your own specialties.” I stared at bleeps on the radio. “They wouldn’t want . . .”
“They wouldn’t want what?” he asked.
My heart dropped in my chest.
Goose bumps formed along my arms.
“Where’d—” My tongue stuttered in my mouth.
Oh God.
“Wh-Wh-Wh-Wher
e’d”—I hovered in front of the green beeping dots, on the radio—“Where’d-Where’d Bear’s car go?”
“Bear’s . . .” He frowned and tapped the radio. “Bear’s always . . .” His faced drained.
The car swerved. We jolted off the highway. I pummeled into the car door, fumbling to clutch the door handle. We sped past an abandoned gas station and into—
“Alec!” I screamed.
My head slammed into the roof as we drove into the trees. The car pounded against the ditches, blew over stumps and roots, and skittered across dry leaves. My seatbelt strained against my chest and my head thumped against the headrest.
Branches smacked against the windshield, screeching against the windows. Trees. Branches. Trees. Branches. Left—right—left.
We swerved . . .
And hit.
My neck whipped forward. My body snapped back and I collided with the seat.
Ugh.
Everything was moving and turning and flipping and growing and hovering and—
I dry heaved onto the floor.
“Vienna?” Alec opened my car door and lifted me out, cradling me in his arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
My ears rang.
Ring-ring-ring-ring-ring.
“I lost control and the car spun out,” he whispered in my ear.
I moaned as his heat rushed into me, warming me, trying to revive my jelly-filled bones.
Ring-ring-ring-ring.
The car sputtered next to us, shaking and sparking and smoking. The passenger door dangled helplessly in the air and a hissing sound came from under the hood.
Ring-ring-ring.
