Mom’s eyes flicked back to me. “Who is he?”
She didn’t sound thrilled—which I guessed she wouldn’t be, given that I was working with a shifter she didn’t even know. Between that and my announcement that I was working with Aida, I was beginning to wonder if she might actually use the crowbar on me, even knowing who I was. “My friend, Mom.”
Mom’s face turned bitter. “We’re shifters. We don’t have friends. Your father and I forgot that, and we paid the price.”
I looked at the crowbar. I couldn’t deny that she’d paid a heavy price—her face, her husband, her sanity.
But Dad was gone, now, and nothing any of us did was going to change that. And looking at her eyes, heavy with bitterness—I remembered one thing.
I wasn’t dead. I was still here. I was the person he made me, the person he taught me to be. And I could see the disappointment on his face if I let myself become like her.
I wasn’t willing to live with that bitterness—hers or mine. “Mom, we need to go. Mel set you up. We have to get out of here—"
I looked down at Damon, who still wasn’t moving.
We couldn’t just leave, not now. Not unless we lugged him with us. And if he weighed what I expected him to, I wouldn’t be able to lift him alone, and I didn’t expect Mom to help.
I reached for my phone on the floor, careful to keep a sharp eye on Mom and Damon, and dialed Kalif again.
“Who are you calling?” Mom asked.
I shook my head at her. “No one I want you to beat over the head with a crowbar.”
She still gripped the bar, but at least she held it close to her body, not threatening me or Damon. For now.
The phone rang once. Twice. Three times.
Kalif didn’t pick up.
Crap. Had Aida come back for us? Had the Carmines noticed we’d scrambled their signal? He’d seen Mel at the door moments before we opened it, so it couldn’t have been Mom who got to him.
Could it have been Mel?
Mom was quiet, watching me. “I was just going to talk to Aida,” she said.
I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “You were just going to talk to her, so you charged into her apartment with a crowbar and used it to bash my friend in the head?”
Mom took a look back at Damon. If it had only been the head turn that made him lose consciousness, he’d have awoken by now. That meant either he was faking, or his head injury must be keeping him out—which probably meant swelling around his brain.
Swelling that could mean damage, even death. This was the second time associating with me caused him to be dangerously unconscious, though this time was much, much worse.
I wanted to reach out and tear the crowbar away from Mom. I wanted to shove her against the wall, to knock some sense into her. Kalif had been right all along—I should have stayed away from Damon, not because it was dangerous for us, but because it was so dangerous for him. My heart beat double time. I had to get out there and see what happened to Kalif, but I couldn’t leave my mom alone in here. “Don’t hurt anyone else,” I said. “This is insane.”
Mom turned on me, maintaining her tight grip on the crowbar. “Jory,” she said, "that’s enough.”
My chest swelled with anger, and my whole body shook. “Yeah, Mom,” I said. “That is enough.”
She took a step toward me, and I held my ground. I didn’t care if she was the one with the weapon. I wouldn’t let her hurt anyone else.
Mom glared at me. “You think that because you paid our bills a few times that you’re in charge now? You think you’re ready for that? Because let me tell you something: you’re still a child. And I’ve had about enough of you talking back to me like that.”
I about came out of my skin. “Talking back to you?” My voice squeaked, and even my vocal training couldn’t get it under control. “What am I? Seven?”
Mom gave me a patronizing look. “You’re acting like you’re seven. And you’re putting both our lives in danger.”
A hush fell over the apartment. My ears rang with the silence.
I was putting our lives in danger? I wasn’t behaving with the most professionalism possible, I’d give her that. But I wasn’t the one trying to kill people who’d only been protecting us.
“Mom,” I said quietly, "you haven’t acted like my parent since Dad died. You’ve been taking drugs; you hurt yourself and landed in the hospital. You can’t just come in here and hurt my friends and then pretend like you have it all under control.”
For a second, Mom faltered. Then the hardness returned to her eyes. “You’re right. That’s why I’m here. To do what I should have done months ago.”
A flame flickered in her eyes, and she didn’t have to tell me what that thing was. She was going to kill Aida, yes. But she wasn’t going to stop there. She was going to kill Mel, if she could find him. And Kalif, too. After that she was going for the Carmines.
She wasn’t going to stop until there was no one left standing who had threatened her family, who had taken away her husband.
She was armed and ready and I was the only thing standing in her way.
But if I stepped aside, that was it.
My mother would be gone forever.
“Mom,” I said again. “This isn’t the way to fix it. I need you to be okay, and this will only make you more crazy.”
Mom gave one short, bitter laugh. “Oh, Jory,” she said. “I don’t think it gets any crazier than this.”
Behind her, I saw Damon’s hand stir. My stomach twisted. Was he coming to, or having a seizure? I was taking too much time—I should have called him an ambulance long ago.
But if I didn’t talk my mother down, she might hit him again. And then he’d be dead for sure. “Mom,” I tried again. “Think about it. This isn’t what Dad would have wanted.”
Mom wavered, rocking back onto her heels. “Your father isn’t here,” she said. But her voice was soft and weak, like all the fight had left her.
I took a step toward her. “Mom, give me the crowbar.”
She looked down at it in her hand, like it was some alien thing. And then she raised it, holding it between us. “Take it,” she said. “Take it and wait here with me. They’ll come looking for you, you know they will. And we can end this—end them—and be done with it.”
She extended the bar to me. I wondered if she had another weapon on her person, or if she intended to find one in the house, or if she meant to kill Aida with her bare hands.
Regardless, I took it, then stepped several paces away from her and tucked it into my pants.
“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t help you do this. Dad would never have stood for it.”
The edges of Mom’s eyes watered slightly before she put a stop to the tears. “Jory,” she said. “Your father is dead.”
My whole body went cold. That was the only time I’d heard her say those words. Under other circumstances, it might have been a good thing. But this time, I could feel my family die with them.
My mother had sunk so far that I couldn’t reach out to save her, and she wasn’t even trying to reach back for help.
I couldn’t go down with her. I’d been the only one of us trying for far too long. “I can’t do this,” I said again. I held my voice low, keeping it calm, but my sadness leaked into it. “I can’t help you. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”
The truth of that statement rang in my core. Mom must have heard it too, because fear etched across her face and she took one step toward me.
But it was too late. There was nothing else to be said. “I love you, Mom,” I said. “But I’m done trying to hold this family together.”
I drew the crowbar and took a defensive stance, and I gave her a glare that I hoped to all that was holy meant business.
And then, before dialing Kalif again, I called 911.
Thirty
Mom didn’t move while I talked to the 911 operator. They wanted me to check on Damon—did he have a pulse? Was he breathing? But
I wasn’t going to walk by Mom to check, and risk that she might decide to start an altercation.
He still had his face. That had to be good enough.
So I lied.
It wasn’t until I got into the phone call and described the wound to the operator that I realized I had to either sell out my mother or lie again. And as much as I was sick of covering for her, I had to go with the simpler story. “No,” I said. “The assailant ran. No, I don’t know where he went. No, I have absolutely no idea who he was. Some nutjob just broke in the door and hit my friend, and then he dropped the weapon and ran.”
My mother seemed to relax a bit as I spoke, which only strengthened my urge to smack her.
I was tired of covering for her.
The operator wanted to keep me on the phone until the ambulance arrived, but I could see Mom’s eyes roving the room, and I didn’t know if she was searching for an escape or a weapon. So when I was sure they had all the information they needed to get to Damon, I faked a breaking connection and hung up.
I immediately dialed Kalif, and still got nothing.
Panic clawed up my throat.
Where was he? Had he broken his phone? But if so, why wasn’t he at the door, at the window, making sure I was okay?
What if Mel got to him?
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t leave Damon alone with Mom, so I had to stay put, not go searching for him. I could push the panic button to attract Aida, but then she might come charging in and set off my mother.
Besides, maybe Kalif was with Aida. She knew where we were going, and even if she hadn’t, we were almost certain she had a tracer in the car. Had she taken his phone? Had she kidnapped him to get him away from me?
I hoped she had. Better that than he’d run into his father. I kept the crowbar between me and Mom.
“Aren’t you going to run?” I asked. “The paramedics will be here in a few minutes.”
“I’m not going to leave you here,” Mom said.
I glanced over at Damon again, and this time I could swear I saw his chest rise and fall.
I hadn’t lied to the paramedics. Damon was still breathing.
But his brain could be swelling. The damage could be irreparable. And it was my mother’s fault, but also mine, for getting him into this mess. “Well, I’m not leaving. I’m going to follow him to the hospital and make sure he’s okay. So if you want to come along and check yourself in and get some help for real this time, be my guest. I’ll try to make sure you’re covered as best I can. But I can’t guarantee it because I don’t know where Aida is now, and frankly, I already arranged things for you once and you ran out on me, so I’m not thrilled with the idea of doing it again.”
I expected Mom to fight back, but her face suddenly went gray with exhaustion, like she’d been shifting her flesh color and no longer had the will to keep it up. “I want to stay with you,” she said.
I raised my eyebrow. If I had to deal with one more adult who couldn’t stop acting like a child, I was going to scream. I opened my mouth to tell her that I had people I worked with, and if she wanted to stay with me, she had to cooperate with them.
But before I could get the words out, a loud knock came at the door behind me, then the door opened and the paramedics charged in.
I dropped the crowbar behind me, casting a warning glance at Mom, but she wilted back against the wall, like she wanted to attract as little attention as possible.
Two of the paramedics began immediately to work on Damon, while another cornered me and started taking a statement. I kept an eye on both Mom and Damon while I repeated the story I’d given to the 911 operator. The whole thing took far longer than was comfortable, when all I wanted was to find Kalif, follow Damon, and make sure both of the mature, capable people I worked with were going to make it through this okay.
At my first opportunity, I slipped out the door and headed back into the parking lot. The paramedics would protect Damon from Mom now, and frankly, if Mom snuck off, I didn’t give a damn.
A fire truck and a police car had shown up along with the ambulance, no doubt carrying some of the emergency workers who were now inside. I walked up to the police officer, who was talking with the remaining fireman. “Excuse me,” I said. “Have you seen a man who was up here enforcing parking?”
The fireman looked surprised and shook his head. “Was he involved in the head injury?”
I realized too late that I probably should have snuck into a corner and changed personas, but there were so many people milling around, it would have been dangerous to do so at this point. “No,” I said. “But he’s a friend of mine.”
The fireman turned to the officer. “You arrived first. You see anyone?”
The officer shook his head. “Give me a description and I can keep an eye out.”
I shook my head. “That’s okay. Thanks.” I was stepping away to search the area around the apartment complex, when the paramedics charged out of the apartment with Damon on a stretcher.
I drew a sharp breath. They wouldn’t be in a hurry if there was no hope. He was still alive. Maybe he would be okay.
But where the hell was Kalif? I pulled out my phone, calling again, then, when there was no answer, sending a quick text: Where are you? Are you okay?
But I got no immediate response.
The officer stepped close to me again. “The ambulance is leaving,” he said. “Do you want a ride to the hospital?”
I looked toward the ambulance. Last time I’d ridden in the front to the hospital, but that had been my mother. If Kalif were here, we could both have gone in the police car.
But if Mel had him, having a cop to back me up could be a very good thing.
I was about to tell the officer that I had to stay to find my friend, when Mom came out of the apartment looking dazed. She watched as the paramedics shut the back doors of the ambulance, then came toward me and put a hand on my arm.
“I’ll go with you to the hospital,” Mom said. “I’ll check myself back in.”
I looked up into Mom’s eyes, and I wanted to believe her. But all I could see was a woman who wanted to kill for revenge, who’d lied to me over and over, who told so many lies in her daily life that she probably didn’t even know what the truth looked like anymore.
I could insist that I stay. I could search for Kalif. But I had no leads on where he was and no phone number for Aida, unless I wanted to hit the panic button and hope she didn’t come after me guns blazing.
And here Mom was, standing in front of me, ready to do the reasonable thing, even if she was still wearing Mel’s face.
“Okay,” I said. “But if you skip out this time, that’s it. I will walk away, and you will never see me again.”
Shock registered in her eyes, so I knew she believed me.
I turned to the officer. “We’re coming.” He nodded and left the door to the backseat open as he climbed into the car.
“Come on,” I said to Mom.
And Mom and I climbed into the back of the cop car and closed the door behind us.
The officer pulled out, following the ambulance. He had his sirens turned off—letting the vehicle with the actual patient blaze ahead, leaving parted cars in its wake.
I refused to look at Mom, double checking my phone. Airplane mode was off. I had good service. Calls were muted, but should have been coming through.
I called Kalif one more time.
And felt a soft buzzing on the carpet of the car, down by my foot.
The officer kept his attention on the road, like he hadn’t heard or felt it. Mom’s attention was out the window, focused on something far away, which I couldn’t help but hope was the ghost of her former self.
The vibration stopped, but I could see a cell phone on the floor, tucked under the edge of the carpet. There under the seat were two more phones that had been scribbled on with black marker, a set of keys, and a computer charger.
Like one of the pockets of Kalif’s bag had been upended there unnoticed.
I twisted a little to get a better look at the phone, and I could just barely make out the number of my disposable on the screen.
Every inch of my body went cold. I hung up, and a moment later, the light on the screen went out.
And then behind me, in the trunk of the car, I heard a soft, almost inaudible, thump.
Thirty-one
I sat frozen in place. The police officer drove after the ambulance. My mother stared out the window like nothing was wrong.
I listened for the noise from the trunk, but all was quiet. Anything could be back there, rattling around, right?
Except that we’d been moving forward, not stopping, not changing direction. There was no physical reason why anything stationary in the trunk should have thumped at that moment.
Unless there was a person back there.
A person who had recently been locked in the back of the cop car.
A person who had, unbeknownst to the police officer, accidently dropped his phones under the seat in the scuffle.
A person like Kalif, who had probably been taken by surprise by Mel and shoved into his trunk.
Alive, apparently.
I put my hand gently on the door handle of the car and lifted, testing it. The door was, of course, locked, and could only be opened from the outside. The door on Mom’s side would no doubt be the same. Between us and Mel was a solid metal grate, meant to hold people in. There was no way we’d be able to break through it.
I did the only thing I could think of to do. I reached into my pocket for Aida’s panic tracker, and I pushed it.
Mel took a turn down a side street. “We’re going to take a short cut,” he said.
My stomach dropped. A short cut. Shorter, he wanted me to believe, than the way the freaking ambulance had driven.
“Um,” I said, "actually, I just realized I left my purse back at the apartment. Would you mind taking me back for it?”
The cop paused. “Don’t you want to go check on your friend? I’m sure you can call a cab to get back to the apartment.”
“Not without my wallet,” I said.
A Million Shadows Page 26
