“He was just watching Daniel and Oliver. Nothing to tell.”
“But he made you breakfast, right?”
“No. I just ate some of his.”
“And you don’t think that’s more intimate?”
Farley sighed a heavy sigh. “No, I don’t. He was just watching Daniel. End of story.”
Tess jabbed at the stereo, mashing buttons until it eventually came to life. The speakers rattled tinnily as a radio presenter gave the weather forecast. She turned it off, disgusted. “What’s going on with them, anyway? Why are they always bickering like old women?”
Farley laughed at the imagery, her head rolling violently across the headrest as Tess charged through a corner at Mach ten. “I have no idea. Daniel said something once about having learned his lesson where trusting friends was concerned. I can only assume he was referring to Kayden. Seems to me they know each other inside out. That can only mean they were close once upon a one time.”
She didn’t mention Kayden’s strange comment when they’d been sitting out on the basketball court. His words, He hasn’t told you, has he? certainly sounded like part of a story that might go at least halfway to explaining their animosity toward one another. But Farley hadn’t found the right time to bring it up again with either of them. Until she got some clarification, it was pointless ruminating over conjecture.
Tess snorted in a very unladylike manner. “Sounds like intervention time.”
“Not a good idea. Daniel wouldn’t fare well with enforced emotional discussion. Or maybe it’d be us that didn’t fare well.”
“Okay, intervention equals bad idea. Maybe we could try out some sort of cage fighting therapy. They could beat the crap out of each other and everything would be rosy afterwards.”
Farley shook her head. “Fighting each other is a pretty regular occurrence by all accounts. I think it only makes things worse.”
Tess fell silent, a crazy smile twitching at the corner of her mouth as she made the Cherokee’s engine scream. The trees on either side of the highway petered out and small fields opened up, filled with nothing but wide expanses of browned, dry grass and the occasional horse in the distance. A cheery, faded sign welcomed them to Gun Creek, population 296, which was riddled with small, perfectly round puncture wounds. Bullet holes.
“Wow. Hicksville,” Tess crooned as she unwillingly slowed the vehicle. She took the right hand turning into Gun Creek, where the town opened out immediately. It looked like some warped, derelict version of the old west, except all of the stores seemed to have discovered neon signs. There was one blinking in each storefront window. Even the bookstore had one, which made it look seedy, as though it should be flashing XXX Adult Entertainment instead of Boddington and Son’s Book Emporium.
Tess pulled the Jeep into a spot outside the pharmacy, which had a sun-faded sign in the window reading, Now open on Wednesdays! Both Farley and Tess stared straight ahead of them for a moment. At the side of the road was an actual hitching post, and hitched to it was an actual horse. It snorted and switched its tail in their general direction, shooting them a filthy glance.
“Ha ha! This is literally a one horse town!” Tess cried, tugging the keys from the ignition. “I know your less-than-better half said there was no Starbucks here, but there has to be some sort of coffee house.”
“That’s what this is about? Your quest to find decent coffee?”
Tess gave Farley look that said she’d always known she was dumb, but she hadn’t suspected it was this dumb. “I’m going to forgive you, Farley, because I understand how complicated things have been for you recently, what with everything that’s been going on. But my priorities are, and always have been, in order, enrolment at Berkeley, excellent coffee, sexy-looking boy on my arm, swiftly followed by a mind-blowing wardrobe. And since my chances of getting into Berkeley have been temporarily waylaid, coffee is now number one on the agenda. And so…” she gestured to the single quiet street that made up Gun Creek, “here we are.”
“I take it back. You’re the freak, not me.”
But Tess wasn’t listening. She’d already bolted, scanning the length of the street in search of anything that looked vaguely café-like. For such a small town, Gun Creek had a lot of stores. Most of them were completely useless to them: a saddlery, a tannery, a hardware store, livestock and feed warehouse, and two gun stores- Bob’s Guns and Mick’s Guns, directly across the street from one another. No wonder there were so many bullet holes in the town’s signpost.
There were only two stores of any interest: the aforementioned Boddington and Son’s Book Emporium, and a clothes store, named simply Kathy’s. Business owners clearly lacked imagination around these parts, given that nearly all the storefronts bore the owner’s name and not much else. Tess blew out her cheeks in a way that implied she was on the brink of a meltdown.
“Come on, caffeine freak.” Farley grabbed hold of Tess’ hand and pulled her in the direction of the clothes store. “Maybe Kathy can fill us in on the closest place you can get your fix.”
Tess gave her a sarcastic smile but followed meekly behind her. It was a good thing, because Farley didn’t have the patience to deal with Tess in temper tantrum mode. Things usually got ugly.
The window to Kathy’s was filthy in the same way white vans get filthy and some clever moron writes, I wish my wife was this dirty on them. It was surprising that no one had written any witty remarks on these windows. They were practically begging for it. The mannequins inside, frozen in carefree, abandoned poses, could barely be made out through the grime encrusted panes.
A bell rang cheerfully when Farley hefted the door open. It was kind of surplus to requirement, however, because the door protested loud enough to announce their presence all by itself. People across in Bob’s Guns probably heard about it when Kathy got a customer. Inside, the store was surprisingly clean. It looked like a regular little boutique shop, although the clothes on the racks were obviously aimed at an older market and certainly not eighteen-year-old girls.
“Hello?” a voice called from out the back. There was a rustling of papers and a heavy set woman appeared wearing a bright floral shirt that looked more like a tent than an item of clothing. Farley gave her a polite smile, battling to keep a hold on Tess, who looked like she wanted to start rifling through the clearance bin. That wasn’t why they were there, and now it was clear Grayson knew nothing of them borrowing his car, it seemed prudent to get what they were after and hightail it home as quickly as possible.
“Hi, ladies!” the woman in the chintzy tent cooed. She waggled her ringed fingers at them in a weird kind of wave. “Ooh, new faces. I just love new faces. Tell me, are you staying with Lyle over at the bed and breakfast?”
Farley shook her head. “No, just passing through. We were wondering if there was anywhere around here that served excellent coffee.” She treated Tess to a kinked eyebrow as she said that. Tess poked her tongue out, shuffling over to the clearance bin. So much for getting what they needed and leaving. They’d be stuck there for hours if there was anything remotely lacy in there.
Kathy tapped a finger against her chin, looking up and to the left in an exaggerated demonstration of Thinking Hard. There were four gaudy gold rings on that finger; it was a wonder she could even bend the knuckle. “Excellent coffee? Hmm, let me see… There’s Old Pyke’s Café three blocks down. It’s down the side street between Bett’s Saddlery and the livestock warehouse. They sell coffee. I’m not sure about it being excellent and all, but I like the odd cup occasionally. I’m more of a tea drinker, myself, but… Ooh, you like that, sweetie? It just looks beautiful with your coloring and all.”
Farley turned to find Tess posing in front of a full-length mirror with a black scrap of a dress hooked over her head still attached to the hanger. It took a second to work out that it wasn’t actually a dress but a scandalously see-through item of lingerie. Tess pouted at herself flirtatiously in the mirror, rotating at the hip in order to get a better view.
&n
bsp; “I’ll take it,” she said, pulling a wad of rumpled notes from her back pocket. She placed them into Kathy’s eagerly awaiting hands, and the woman flicked through the bills with her nimble, golden-armored fingers. Tess accepted the paper bag that Kathy slipped the gossamer material into, and then fixed the overly friendly woman with an intense glare. “Now, this Old Pyke’s café. Are we talking filter coffee here?”
“Oh, I should think so, sweetie,” Kathy trilled, not realizing she was crushing Tess’ dreams. She gave them her weird finger wave as they exited the store, smiling the whole time.
“That woman was hopped up on Prozac,” Tess complained, thrusting the bag containing the lingerie at Farley. She just looked at the bag and then back up at Tess.
“I’m sorry, what did your last slave die of? I’m not a pack animal, y’know. You can carry your own slutty nightwear!”
Tess smiled, flashing too much teeth not to be thinking wicked things. “Oh, but it’s not my slutty nightwear, ma cher, it’s yours.”
A spluttering noise erupted from Farley’s mouth. “Ha! Forget it. What do I need something like that for?”
“Don’t play the innocent with me, Hopeless.” She jabbed a finger accusingly into Farley’s side. “I know you slept in Daniel’s room last night. There’s no harm in mixing things up a little bit.” She jiggled the bag at her.
A horrified blush exploded on the backs of Farley’s hands, which meant her face was doing its best impression of a beetroot. For one terrible split second she considered the possibility that Daniel had discussed what had happened the night before with Tess. She immediately dismissed the thought; it was madness- he would never do that. But it was humiliating to have Tess think she and Daniel were up to things they most certainly were not. Tess seemed to accept her furious blushing as an indicator that she was right on track, however.
“Give me the details, Farls. I’m starved of gossip. You owe me. Was it everything you ever dreamed?” She clasped her hands together and held them up to her cheek, looking dreamily off into the distance.
“You are so far off the mark,” Farley muttered. She eyed the bag still hooked over Tess’ hand as though it were full of deadly poisonous snakes. “There are no details. You can keep your gift. I’m sure Oliver will appreciate it.”
Farley sped up, determined to reach the café before Tess could breathe another word. Thankfully, three blocks in Gun Creek was more like thirty feet, and they were almost through the door of Old Pyke’s before her friend had chance to speak.
“You’re no fun, you know that?”
“You know who’s no fun? Daniel, when he finds out we snuck out without telling anyone. He’s going to go ballistic.”
Tess shrugged her shoulders and slumped down at a booth next to the door. The seats were made out of faux leather and were threadbare from the number of backsides that had perched on them. It was kind of gross sitting on them, like when you take someone else’s seat and it’s still warm. It was one thing knowing another butt had been where yours is, but solid evidence of the fact made that knowledge pretty hard to ignore.
“Come on, Farls,” Tess said, immediately picking up a tacky, laminated menu. “When was the last time you did something on your own? When was the last time you didn’t have someone looking over your shoulder, watching every move you make? You have to live a little. Relax.”
But Tess’ words didn’t have a relaxing effect on Farley. “I do remember the last time that happened… when we were on our own. Don’t you?”
The other girl froze, a finger halfway down the menu. “Actually…yeah.”
Memories of that night rushed at Farley, making her stomach churn. The pink motel. Waking up alone. The whyte- her mother- floating dead on top of the ink black pool water. A flashing neon sign, The Queen of Hearts. Farley shuddered, desperately trying to cram the terrifying images back under lock and key. Tess had gone a pasty color. She tugged at the sleeve on the right arm where the whyte had bitten her and sent her half mad.
“Maybe I can wait for the coffee,” she whispered.
Farley breathed out gratefully just as a waitress with orthopedic shoes and lank, dirty blond hair decided to approach their table. “Don’t bother. We’ve changed our minds.” It suddenly felt incredibly important that they get back to the cabin as quickly as possible.. They slipped out of the café and walked quickly down the street towards the Jeep. Halfway between the café and the car, something made Farley stop and look in one of the storefronts. It was the hardware store, and in the window sat an acrylic paint set.
“What are you doing?” Tess hissed. “Come on, I really think we ought to get back. You were right about Daniel.”
“It’s okay, I won’t be a minute.”
In reality it took twelve minutes to go in and buy the paint set. The ancient old man behind the counter had never used his card machine before, and Farley had to show him how to plug it in and wait for it to connect online before she could pay. By the time she came out of the store, Tess had worked herself into a frenzy. If it were at all possible, she set off burning back up the mountain road even quicker than when she’d come down.
Farley sat nervously tugging on her seatbelt, chewing on her lip. They’d only been gone an hour. If they were lucky they’d be able to slip back into the cabin unnoticed. She wouldn’t have to explain to Daniel how she’d momentarily lost all mental competency and decided to go off on her own with Tess as a bodyguard. If the past had taught her anything, though, it was that luck was rarely on her side. She was barely even surprised at what she saw when they turned the narrow switchback and rounded into the clearing. Daniel froze in his anxious pacing, piercing through the windshield of the Cherokee with a murderous look in his eyes.
Tess audibly gulped. She said something unrepeatable under her breath.
Sixteen
Control
”What were you thinking?”
Daniel was wearing a hole in the Persian rug in the library. He was so worked up that tiny sparks of blue and white fizzled at his fingertips. They swirled in the air, twisting upwards like the glowing embers of a fire as they floated toward the wooden rafters. He kept flexing his fingers and shaking his hands out as though that would make it stop, but it didn’t. Farley adopted the pose best suited for situations like this: the hanging of the head in shame.
“I’m sorry, okay. I wasn’t thinking. I’m still not used to a life where going into town on my own is a dangerous, life threatening event.”
“Well, it is,” he snapped. “Didn’t we have this conversation just last night? That I need to protect you? How could you have forgotten that so quickly?”
“Maybe because other things happened last night, too. Other things that were off the scale on my mental trauma chart, and it slipped my mind.” The comment blurted out before she could reign it in, and Daniel froze. He looked at her like she was purposefully trying to be hurtful, which was ridiculous because she was the one who was hurt, not him.
“Farley-”
“I’m sorry, okay. Just forget I said anything.”
“No!” He balled his fists up, made them glow like they were white-hot. “I’m all for avoiding awkward conversations if I can, but this is different. You don’t get to do this to me.”
He was shaking. She wanted to narrow her eyes at him and say something vinegary about what he didn’t get to do to her, but he was shaking and she couldn’t.
Her mom would have been proud. It was the first time in her life she’d properly bitten back her stubborn attitude and breathed through the moment until it passed. It felt like an empty victory. “Look… I’m sorry, okay. I swear I won’t ever do it again. Can we just forget about it?”
Daniel just stared at her, every part of his body stiff, inhaling deeply through his nose. His stance didn’t help assuage the impression that he was about to have an aneurysm. After a moment he looked down at the floor and closed his eyes. His creased forehead twitched a few times like he was considering saying something, or co
nsidering how to say something, but he never got to speak. His cell phone started vibrating. He blew out an annoyed breath and tugged it from his pocket.
Farley expected him to hit the ignore button, but his face transformed when he saw the display. His eyes flashed to her, wide.
“Beatty,” he whispered.
Farley shot to her feet, the muscles in her legs suddenly weak. Beatty, the man who had trained her to fight back in the hangar, their friend who’d disappeared right off the face of the planet, was calling Daniel. She couldn’t form speech. Waving her hands furiously at him, she urged him to answer. When he picked up, he didn’t say a word. He went utterly still. Farley could hear the muted sounds of a male voice on the other end of the line. She sat back down again, cupping her hands over her mouth, too worried to blink in case she missed something on Daniel’s face.
Beatty had called them after all this time. What did that mean? Was he safe? And Nyla and Scout, too? The last she’d seen of them, they were getting ready to follow them to the Queen of Hearts after the silos exploded. The attendant, Merv, who’d killed her mother had said a black truck- she’d assumed it was Beatty’s at the time- had followed Agatha into the night. Had it been him?
Daniel was immobile, transfixed on the floorboards. The tension was killing her.
C’mon, c’mon, what’s he saying!?
Daniel finally cleared his throat, coming back to life. “Yeah. I’ll be there,” he said softly. He hung up the phone. For a long minute he just glared at it in his hands.
“Daniel?”
“Hmm?”
“What did he say?”
He snapped out of his daze and gave her a surprised look, like he’d forgotten she was even in the room. “They’re in Washington,” he said. His voice was incredulous, like Beatty had told him they were on Mars. “They want to meet.”
Eternal Hope (The Hope Series) Page 9
