Whoa. Surprise, surprise. Apparently, the backwoods country boy had more than sweet hay in his head. And maybe he was even right. She looked at him thoughtfully. “So-o-o-o, if I were to share my responsibility for Ellie with all the eggheads and athletes and who-knows-what-else around here, what would I do with myself all day?”
Doo dropped way back on his elbows so he was almost lying down. His voice was playful, “Gimme a little time. I’ll come up with somethin’.”
She laughed out loud, then plucked his hat off his head and slammed it down over his face, making him fall flat on the blanket. He knocked the hat away and grabbed her arms, pulling her towards him with a wide grin.
To hell with propriety. To hell with the age difference. Grace felt more silly and happy and carefree than she could remember feeling in a long time. She allowed herself to be drawn into his arms, and even before their lips met, a rush of heat pushed up from her loins. She kissed him hungrily and reveled in the breathlessness of being crushed against him. Damn, that felt good.
And then, just as her body was melting into liquid honey, her phone, sitting near them on the blanket, buzzed and lit up. They both froze and turned their heads in that direction. She lifted her head just enough to see the screen. “It’s Joe.”
“You could call him back.”
She looked at Doo, biting her lip. He gave her a kind smile and pushed them both up to a sitting position. He nodded toward the phone. “Answer it, Gracie.”
Chapter Twelve: Choose
“Ellie, how’s it comin’ in there? You made a decision on the movie yet?” Angel called out to Ellie from where she and Carlo were cleaning up the mess in the kitchen after their sumptuous Italian feast. Knowing how much Angel enjoyed good food, Ellie was starting to understand her attraction to the fair-haired boy.
“Oh, yeah, I got one now. I think it’s one we’ll all like.” Ellie answered her without looking over. She wasn’t sure if it was so much their relentless affection or the actual heat level in the kitchen that was doing it, but watching the two of them together really seemed to be bothering her eyes. Every time she even glanced that way, her vision was blurred by a shimmery haze of red smoke. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for contact lenses.
She turned the film box over in her hands and scanned the back again. Hitchcock’s Notorious was her selection for their movie. Carlo would get his fix of iconic actors like Cary Grant and Ingrid Bergman, Angel would probably love all the super-spy mumbo-jumbo, and Ellie could bask in one of the greatest love triangles ever captured on the silver screen. She couldn’t help but liken the famous three-minute kiss scene with what she’d been seeing and hearing from the kitchen for the last quarter hour. Devlin and Alicia had nothin’ on Carlo and Angel. Ellie wondered if she’d ever feel that way about anyone, or more importantly, if anyone would ever feel that way about her.
But there was yet another reason for her selection of this particular film. To Ellie, Hitchcock and Cary Grant and the others were some of her only remaining connections to her dad, for it was Martin Eggleston who had turned her onto the “moldy-oldies”, as Angel called them, at an early age. For a man dedicated to science, Martin had kept a warm and fuzzy place in his heart for classic films, and Notorious was one of his favorites. Ellie could still recall the first time they’d watched it together; she was probably only seven or eight years old, a time when most kids were slurping up pirates and wizards and dinosaurs. Of course, he’d had to explain some scenes to her and fill in background about the war, but that was part of the fun. Her mom wasn’t a huge movie fan, so watching movies together, with him adding in all kinds of trivia and historical notes, was their special Daddy and Daughter thing. That was a long time ago, though, and nowadays, if Ellie wanted someone to watch an old movie with her, she’d have to drag Aunt Grace kicking and screaming.
Aunt Grace! Oh, crap! Ellie looked up at the wall clock. Geez, it was way past ten, and she hadn’t texted her aunt since they first arrived at Carlo’s apartment. On the other hand, Grace, miraculously, hadn’t texted her, either. Usually, if Ellie was even a couple minutes late checking in, Grace was all over her. Ellie jumped up from the couch to grab her phone. As she looked for it, she wondered if maybe Uncle Joe was pinch-hitting for her again. He had done all the heavy-lifting with Grace since the idea of traveling to D.C. had first come up. It was kind of nice having someone else do the begging, er, asking, for a change. In fact, Uncle Joe had seemed happy, even anxious, to talk to Grace on Ellie’s behalf. And he seemed pretty effective in getting her to loosen the reins a bit.
Hmm, so where was it? Ellie could’ve sworn that both she and Angel had set their phones on Carlo’s desk in the corner, but they weren’t there now. And if memory wasn’t failing her, Angel had hung her black leather jacket over the back of the desk chair. That was also no longer in place. She’d have to ask Carlo where he had moved the stuff to, but she didn’t want to interrupt…
“So what we got?”
Ellie spun around to see that Angel had plunked down on the couch and picked up the DVD case from where Ellie had laid it on the coffee table. Ellie joined her on the couch while Angel scanned through the images and description on the box. “Huh. This actually sounds okay. Might even be good.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “It is good. It’s Hitchcock. Classic film noir. Spies and wartime secrets and everything.” She took the box back from Angel and opened it, pulling the disc out. “Trust me, Angel, you’re gonna love this.”
“Love what?” Carlo had stepped up behind the couch and was drying his hands on a dish towel. Both women looked up at him, as he read the title over their shoulders. “Notorious. Awesome choice, Ellie. Now, you girls get it set up, and I’ll make you both a nice, cold drink.” He looked at Angel. “The usual, baby?” She nodded. “And for you, Ellie? I’ve got a bunch of different sodas, flavored water, tea…”
Ellie looked at both of them. “What’s the usual?”
Angel blushed slightly, then mumbled, “Root beer. It’s my favorite.”
“Root beer? Really?” Ellie grinned, but then shrugged and said, “I’ll try one.”
“Coming right up.” Carlo turned to walk back into the kitchen, but Ellie stopped him, “Oh, Carlo, did you move our phones? I need to text my aunt, or she’ll freak out.”
“O-oh, yeah, I did. They’re…in the kitchen.”
Ellie started to get up. “Okay, I’ll—”
“No, you don’t have to do that. I’ll bring it to you. Help Angel with the DVD. She’s a klutz with machines.”
Angel made a sour face as she headed over to the DVD player, but Ellie was busy watching Carlo walk away. The haze was back, and this time it was black. She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her arms.
Angel stood up from inserting the DVD into the machine and looked at her. “You okay, El?”
“Ah, yeah. Fine. It’s just getting a little chilly in here.” Ellie gave her head a little shake. “I guess I’m a little tired, too.”
“Now, listen, chica, we don’t have to stay if you’re pooped. We can head back right now—”
Ellie dropped her arms and ignored the goosebumps. “No, no, no. I want to stay. Really.” Ugh. She wasn’t about to ruin her friend’s evening, just because her stupid contacts were dirty, and she was a little tired. She got up from the couch, grabbed an afghan off a nearby chair, and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Okay, ladies, here we are.” Carlo came back in carrying a little tray with three glasses on it, all filled with ice cubes and a fizzy dark brown beverage. He set the tray on the coffee table, and picked up two of the glasses. Each one had one of those cute little umbrellas in it, one pink and one red. He handed the drink with the pink umbrella to Ellie, and the red one to Angel. Then he picked up the third drink and held it up. “Shall we toast?”
Erm, he had forgotten Ellie’s phone, but okay, she supposed she would let him toast before asking about it again. Angel held up her glass, and Ellie followed suit. Wow, tha
t icy glass was cold. It almost hurt her hand to hold it. With her free hand, she pulled the afghan tighter around her shoulders, but still involuntarily shivered.
Carlo started saying something about old friends and new friends and good times and blah, blah, blah…but Ellie was having trouble focusing on his words. The cold was overwhelming her. And the haze—cripes, she could barely see him now. It was like looking through a thick black fog. She twisted and stretched her neck; it was feeling funny. Prickly. She wrinkled her forehead, trying to shake off the odd sensation. She heard the clinking, and through the fog, saw Carlo’s and Angel’s glasses touching, and their faces smiling and laughing. Then their glasses bumped against hers, and then they were lifting them to their mouths.
“Ellie? Chica?” Angel stopped the drink just before it touched her lips and pulled it away. “Are you sure you’re all right? You look a little pale. In fact, your lips are kinda…blue.”
Carlo cut in. His voice was rougher than it had been, “She’s fine, Angel. Drink up.” As if to prove his point, he took a swallow from his glass. Angel still looked concerned, but she once again lifted the glass to her lips.
Ow! The prickles bit into the back of Ellie’s neck so hard she saw stars. But the pain snapped her brain into gear. Duh—this wasn’t the first time she’d felt this. All of this. The cold, the dark haze, and yes, the “prickles”. Aiden. The night at the river. She didn’t know what it all meant, but she knew something was wrong.
Without thinking any more about it, Ellie let go of the blanket and her drink, which fell in a mess on the floor. Her hands shot out, knocking Angel’s glass away from her and sending it clear across the room. It shattered against the wall, making a horrible sound and spewing root beer everywhere.
“What the—” Carlo’s face turned bright red—really red, not a filmy, hazy, half-there color—and his whole body tensed up, muscles tightening, blood vessels popping to the surface.
“Chica, what?” Angel demanded, with a flash of anger and confusion. But as Angel stared at Ellie, her eyes widened, and the confusion vanished, and then, almost faster than Ellie could comprehend, Angel spun toward Carlo, and the heel of her hand crashed into his face. While he was still groaning and reeling from the impact, Angel’s booted right foot cut through the space between them, folding him in half. He crumpled to the floor, but not without reaching for something he had tucked in his waistband. When his torso hit the ground, Angel’s boot slammed down onto his forearm, eliciting a howl from his throat, and forcing open his hand. The item he’d had clutched therein went scuttling across the hardwood floor.
Ellie gasped when she saw that it was a gun, and fear took over. What was happening? Why was it happening? What should she do? Pick up the gun? Scream for help? Get the hell out of there?
“You little piece of—” Angel now had her boot placed squarely across Carlo’s neck, pinning him to the floor.
“Angel, baby, you gotta understand—”
She pressed harder, cutting off his vocal chords. He began to choke and wheeze. His thick arms clutched at her leg, trying to move it, but Angel didn’t flinch. She pressed a hand against her ear and spoke into the air, “Joe? Joe? Nadia? Cooper? Anybody?” After waiting a moment, she shook her head and then looked over her shoulder at Ellie. “A little help here?”
Ellie’s lips still felt frozen, but she forced them to move. “What…how…um…” She was starting to think crises weren’t really her thing.
“Get my jacket!” Angel looked down at Carlo, narrowing her eyes. “I need my jacket.” Carlo made a strangled, fearful sound in response.
“Uh, he moved it. I don’t know where it is.” Three guns, two knives…and what else had she said she had in there? To be honest, Ellie was glad they didn’t have it.
“Ah, hell.” Angel looked disappointed, but then shifted her focus back to Carlo. She spoke through clenched teeth, “You move one muscle, and I snap your neck, got it?” He nodded as best he could under the boot pressure. Then, in one motion, she dropped to her knees and wrapped her hands around his neck. Almost instantly, his body went limp, and his head fell to the side.
Ellie’s mouth fell open, “Oh my God! Is he…dead?”
“Sadly, no. Not even close.” Angel got up and dusted off her knees, then she glanced around the room, probably taking one last look for her jacket, and finally, motioned to Ellie, “C’mon, chica, we gotta get outta here. Now.”
# # #
“Stay behind me!”
Angel’s whispered command left no room for argument as the two women hurried down the six sets of stairs in the old stairwell. Ellie’s head was spinning with the events of the last several minutes. The only thing she knew for sure was that whatever she’d been seeing or feeling back there had nothing to do with contact lenses or an overly efficient air conditioning system. And somehow, Angel knew it, too.
When they reached the ground floor, Angel pulled the stairwell door in towards them enough to peer out, first right, then left. She pulled her head back into the room and looked hard at Ellie. “Chiquita, listen, this is really important. We’re on our own here, and I guarantee you, Carlo was not. Whoever he’s working for is out there, waiting—front, side, and back.” She waved her hand in a circle to indicate the building would be surrounded. “You do exactly what I tell you to do, okay?”
Ellie nodded. She felt both terrified and reassured. Whatever was going on was just flat-out crazy, but she had every confidence now that Angel could handle it.
They moved quickly down the hallway toward the front door of the building, seeing no one in the process. But the minute they stepped outside, three large men rushed toward them. Angel grabbed Ellie by the shoulders and literally shoved her to the side, screaming, “Run, Ellie, that way! Go!”
It was hard not to turn and look back, but she did as she was told, high-tailing it in the direction she’d been shoved, toward the side of the building. She could hear grunts and groans and the sounds of flesh colliding behind her. But as she moved further away, she realized some of the sounds were following her. Heavy breathing and heavy footfalls were closing in. She was almost to the end of the building now. The jagged edge of aging brick seemed oddly illuminated from behind. She wondered what lay around that corner.
The question was answered before she turned, as one more large man stepped out to face her. Geez, he looked like a freakin’ linebacker, but dressed all in black. His thighs were bigger around than the puny little trees that dotted the front yard of the property. She came to a sudden stop and spun. Yep, behind her was one more just like him. She was trapped!
The guy who’d followed her stopped moving also. He seemed to be looking past Ellie, so she looked past him. The other two monster-dudes were engaged in a vicious battle with Angel, and it looked like a pretty fair fight, but then an arm flew out when Angel was turned, and she went down. “Angel!” Ellie couldn’t keep herself from crying out.
When she did, the man in front of her turned to look, and as he did, Ellie noticed it. Even in the poor lighting of a single lamppost, she could see the haze—the same black haze that had shrouded their last moments with Carlo…and her last moments with Aiden. She took advantage of his momentary distraction to shift direction, thinking she’d head straight out to the street and hope for the best.
“Ellen! Allie! El—c’mon, this way! ¡Vamos!”
Apparently, the side-of-the-building linebacker guy was one step ahead of her, motioning her in his direction. Cripes, there was nowhere left to go!
“It’s me, Rique! Remember?” Now he was running toward her.
Rique…Angel’s brother. Why was he here? Was this a trick? Was he one of them?
A gruff voice called from close behind her, “Go to hell!” The big guy with the black haze. Ellie was caught, helpless. She stood between them as they approached, closing in on her.
“Come on, kid!” Rique looked desperate to convince her. Desperate and…bright. Yes, bright. Why hadn’t she noticed it before? Rique
was the light that had been coming around the corner. There was no lamppost on this side of the street. The only reason she could see him at all was this eerie glow that exuded from all around him. Like Sister Bertha. It was gold and silver and white, but also pink and red—anything but black.
In a fraction of a second, both men would be upon her. Time to choose. Could she trust her instincts? Could she trust this crazy light and dark haze thing? Her gut had told her something was wrong when Aiden had her by the river, and she’d been right about Carlo, too. With one monumental burst of effort, Ellie took off and basically threw herself at Rique. She felt his massive arm wrap around her waist and hoist her from the ground. Oof. She was dumped over his shoulder, and madly banged around as he took off running from the scene, leaping over the fence and into the street. Car tires screeched and a rear door opened. Bam. She was dumped again, this time into the back seat, and the door slammed behind her. Oh dear God, what had she done?
The engine roared, and the vehicle jerked forward, tossing Ellie onto the floor as it took off. She crawled back up into the seat, on her knees, and looked out the back window. As the car peeled around a corner, she got one last look at Carlo Luccini’s apartment building. There was noise, confusion, and distress out front, people moving every which way, but she could identify no one in particular. There was too much darkness and not a shred of light.
# # #
“Hey girly, you need to turn around in the seat and buckle up!”
“Ellie. Her name is Ellie.”
“Right. Ellie, you need to—”
“Wh-who are you?” Ellie’s voice was shaky.
Oh, geez. She still didn’t know she was safe. Now that they were a few miles from the scene, and, he was quite sure, not being followed, Joe Manning dared to take his eyes off the road for a minute to look in the rear view mirror at her. “Ellie, honey, it’s me, Uncle Joe. And Nadia—you remember her.” He reached toward the console and turned the interior light on for a second, meeting her eyes in the mirror.
The Gifted Ones: A Reader Page 17
