I slide into my truck an-n-nd she jumps in from the other side. I grip the wheel as she buckles up.
"Camilla--"
"Save your breath." She digs inside the backpack she brought with her, soon withdrawing a toothbrush, small bottle of water and tube of toothpaste. When she realizes I'm staring at her, she harrumphs. "My go bag. Just so you know, I'm ready for anything, anytime."
Wonderful. "You need a break from me. I need a break from you."
"Too bad," she says. "Better you need a break and live than get a break and die."
I try again. "Camilla--"
"Besides," she interjects, "I have a problem, and you're the only one I can talk to, so whether or not you decide to help me, pretend to listen." She peers out the window, as if waiting for my rejection.
I put the key in the ignition, gun the engine. "If you're about to ask me for special friend advice--"
"Hardly. It's not like I've been sneaking out to hook up with a side slice."
"Good to know." I relax into my seat, only then realizing how tense I'd grown, and ease the truck forward.
"And just so you know, I've never gone to bed with someone thinking it's a onetime bang, or that the benefits package comes with zero benefits. That's just how things turned out."
"So...you want me to tell you how to score a guy long-term?"
"Yes. No. I want to discuss my nightmares."
Okay. That I can handle. "Go on."
She releases a pent-up breath. "Every night, I dream of bloodred flames. Flames I'm calling thanatos."
Doesn't sound so bad. I don't mention that I've actually seen the flames. "First dynamis, a Greek word for power, and now thanatos, a Greek word for death. Someone in this car is a geek at heart. Hint--it's not me."
"You know the meaning of the words. You're a geek."
"I know the meaning of the words because I play video games, which means I get a pass. I bet you actually studied Greek."
"I was a straight A student and proud of it. Or I would have been, if I'd gone to class."
"Both a nerd and a sexy rebel. The girl next door meets the biker babe."
"Did you just call me...sexy?"
I purse my lips. "Tell me more about the nightmares."
"Well, the flames...they kind of kill me."
She dies? "Kind of?" I snarl.
"Definitely."
Nightmares aren't visions, I remind myself, or even premonitions. "You should have told me the first time it happened."
"Why? So you could cheer about it?"
I deserve that. "When did the nightmares start?"
"The night I was darted."
"So the toxin is probably the cause. Has the antidote helped at all?"
"Not really."
At least she is fine otherwise. "Maybe we need to hit you with a stronger dose." I reach over to press the latch on my glove box. The lid pops open, revealing a stash of syringes Reeve delivered the day after my breakfast date with Raina. Just in case. "Use two. Also, we'll have Reeve do some kind of sleep study on you." So far the blood tests haven't provided any new answers.
"Okay. Thanks." Camilla stabs the needles into her thigh, one after the other, and again, she doesn't flinch or gasp. As if the pain is insignificant or she's totally numb to it. Maybe she is.
What has this girl endured over the years?
We lapse into silence as I drive to a nearby coffee shop, where I set up my laptop to do some schoolwork. While I draft my thoughts about The Tragedy of Macbeth--lust for power will kill you every time, yo--I ignore Camilla. Or pretend to. At one point, I order a coffee, and she requests a glass of water. When I order a sandwich, she asks the waitress about the cheapest thing on the menu--a mini sugar cookie. That isn't a nutritious breakfast. Whatever. It's also not my problem.
Camilla suddenly reaches out and grabs my arm, shaking me. "Let's go. Now."
"I'm not done."
"I don't care." She swipes up the laptop, saves my work and shuts it down. "Please, Frosty."
Please? From Camilla Marks? I reclaim my property, intending to offer a scathing remark, but panic bathes her features, stopping me. I've never seen her like this.
"What's wrong with you?"
"I want to go." She tugs on my hand, only to release me as if I somehow burned her. She steps away from me, muttering, "I'll be outside."
"Well, well." A male voice, somewhat familiar, rises above the quiet chatter throughout the shop. "The traitor has emerged from hiding at last."
Three members of River's crew approach us. I've spoken to each guy at some point, but only really know the one in the middle. Chance. Or Knuckle Scars, as Ali calls him. He's been sniffing around Mackenzie Love.
I stand and bump knuckles with him.
He looks from me to Camilla then back again. "What's up?"
"Nothing much. You?"
"Same."
Camilla adjusts her bag on her shoulder before stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Fingers crossed we never again run into each other, Frosty--that's your name, right?" She attempts to march out of the store.
The guy on Chance's right steps into her path. "Where do you think you're going? Back to Anima?"
I swallow a retort, wondering how she'll handle the situation.
"Anima has been destroyed." She raises her chin. "The same fate you'll suffer if you don't move out of my way."
He crosses his arms over his chest. "I'm quaking in my boots, princess."
Without hesitation, she pops him in the nose once, twice, and as he goes down, howling with pain, bleeding, she says, "Oops. My hand slipped."
I fight a grin. "Both times?"
"The air is slippery." She steps around Broken Nose.
The other guy helps his friend stand up. "Bitch."
Camilla's shoulders square before she exits, letting me know she heard the insult. I also know she left the way she did, pretending to have bumped into me, because she hoped to spare me grief for hanging out with her, and it's making my chest ache.
"We just left Cole's," Chance says, picking up the conversation as if there was never a confrontation with Camilla. "We were surprised you weren't there."
"I'm headed there now. See you around." I slam into the guy who called Camilla a bitch, knocking him down, before chasing after my girl--no, no. Not my girl. My...I don't know what she is. I only know I would rather be with her than the pricks who just hurt her.
I'm trapped in a freaking day from hell. But the part that sucks the biggest balls? This is a day from hell in a long string of days from hell. And really, one should be indistinguishable from another by now. Somehow, though, this one stands out as the worst yet.
First, I woke up to find Frosty sneaking out. As if I was a one-night stand he couldn't wait to forget. Then, of course, I ran into Chance, my brother's best friend--and a former "boyfriend" of mine--as well as Chance's two younger cousins. Oh, and my personal fave, the Z toxin in my system is causing the nightmares and who knows what other problems.
From now on, I probably need to ask myself one very important question each and every day. Do I want to eat my friends?
I'm not sure how much more bad news I can take.
Frosty catches up to me, grabs me by the wrist and tugs me to his truck. I don't protest, but I do look around to make sure no one sees us.
As he speeds down the highway, he says, "I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you. You didn't have to pretend we'd only bumped into each other."
My heart melts. Until he adds, "Besides, they probably know about the vision."
Right. Because he wouldn't hang around me for any other reason.
I won't cry. It's not like this is news.
"Do you miss your crew?"
I'm not sure I like the way he hammers to the heart of the matter. "I do. As much as a limb." Seeing the trio had hurt like hell. They might have lost all respect for me, might hate me to my rotten core, but I still love them.
"Your betrayal put them at risk, saved only your brothe
r."
At least he's not spitting the words at me. His tone is calm, factual. I rub my Betrayal tattoo--and the compass next to it. A reminder that no matter how lost I am, there's still a way home. I just have to find it.
Needing a reprieve, I stare out the window. The sky is pretty, baby blue with puffy white clouds. Towering oaks line the side of the road and dot the rolling hills. I've lived in Bama all my life, but I'm still awed by the scenery.
"Camilla?"
If I continue to maintain my silence, Frosty will let the subject drop. I know this. Personal conversations aren't our thing. But I finally say, "At the time, I had tunnel vision. Save River. My eye was on the prize, and I was blind to everything else."
"I still don't understand how you did what you did to them...to Ali."
She's easier to talk about, so I say, "Before I'd even met her, I knew I had to betray her. I decided to find fault with her, no matter what. A smile meant she was making fun of me. A frown meant she disapproved of me."
"Seems pretty twisted."
"It was." Anytime I felt myself softening toward her, I purposely snipped and snapped at her, creating strife between us. A task my inner bitch enjoyed. "Desperate girls do desperate things."
A moment of silence. "Where we're headed... River is there. He's been staying there. Can you handle seeing him?"
Good question. The brother who used to hold me when I cried, who used to tell me everything would be okay, that he would always take care of me, the brother who did his best to save--
I'm just supposed to smile when he turns his back on me?
And he will turn his back on me. Our crew lives by a single motto. Lie and Die, Betray and Pay. When my association with Anima was first found out, protocol demanded River feed me the barrel of a .44. He kicked me out instead, still in protector mode, I suppose.
"You won't know anything is wrong with me," I say on a trembling breath. I'm needed, and there's no way I'll let anyone else down just because I'm cut to ribbons inside.
"I won't know anything is wrong with you...but something will be wrong with you." The words should be a question, but he's made them a statement. "You can't... You shouldn't..." He jerks a hand through his hair. "Damn it. You're twisting up my guts. Stop."
"How am I twisting--"
"Stop."
Fine. Whatever. I answer his nonquestion. "I can't control what I feel, but I can control how I react to those feelings."
"And that makes your pain any less real?"
"No, but feelings change all the time, for a million different reasons. They're unreliable and therefore inconsequential in the big scheme of things. Why give in to the worst of them?"
His lips purse. "What about love?"
It's a very personal question, but I find myself saying, "Love is a choice, not an emotion."
He's shaking his head before I've finished speaking. "You're telling me a man and woman should decide to be together, rather than waiting to fall for each other?"
"I'm talking about love. You're talking about chemistry."
"I love Kat. I don't chemistry her."
I don't know why, but hearing him say he still loves the girl who continually tells him to date other people is worse than River's potential rejection. "Real love never fails, never fades, and the greatest expression of it is giving."
"I give--gave--her everything."
"Did you really? Did you give her your time and attention when you were busy with other things? Did you put her happiness before your own? Did you give her what she needed or what she wanted?"
A muscle jumps beneath his eye. "I'm done with this conversation."
Well. Score one, Milla.
He turns onto a redbrick road, where a towering, intricately twisted wrought-iron gate blocks our entrance. As we slow, that gate opens automatically and we're able to cruise down the drive and park in front of...a hotel?
No, I realize. This is Reeve Ankh's new house. A massive plantation with white shuttered windows, massive columns and a wraparound portico. Pecan and apple trees intermingle along the front of the property, a display of nature's best. To the left are strawberry and blackberry vines, and the sweet fruits scent the air.
"While we're here, you stay by my side," Frosty says as we climb the porch steps. "Got it?"
"Sir, yes, sir. Do you?"
"I won't try to ditch you, if that's what you're hinting at. Not here, at least."
His determination to keep me in his sights gives me pause. Usually he can't wait to ditch me. Why would he--
The truth hits, and for a moment, I'm blindsided. After all the time we've spent together, he doesn't trust me. Not even a little. He thinks I'll sneak off, maybe try to destroy the security system or something equally disastrous.
I don't know why I expected better. He's giving me what I deserve. What I will always deserve. I need to take my licks like a big girl and move on.
Feelings are inconsequential, right?
"We'll get Reeve to run those tests before we leave," he says. "I want to give the newest dose of antidote time to do its thing first."
"Pleasure before business. Got it."
The moment we reach the tall, arched front doors, they open from the inside. The reason pats Frosty on the shoulder. Justin Silverstone.
I wish I could hold out hope for the same forgiveness he was granted after working with Anima, but I know better.
"Hey, man." Justin clasps hands with Frosty and the two perform some kind of manly chest bump. With his dark hair and even darker eyes, he's a big ole bowl of puppy-dog cuteness.
Frosty scans the open foyer, which is currently devoid of furniture. Are Cole and the others afraid something will happen to this new place, so don't want to bother decorating? Or did they just not have time?
"Cole and Ali still around?"
"Yeah. Everyone's in the gym." Justin gives me an appreciative once-over. "You're Milla, right?"
"That's right." If he insults me, I'll...take it.
"Sweet." He slings his arm over my shoulders to urge me forward. "You, lucky girl, are getting a personal escort." When we're several feet ahead of Frosty, his tone goes low and quiet. "I heard you switched to Team Awesome. Congratulations."
"Actually, I like to think I never really switched." I match my volume to his. And then I offer him more than I've offered anyone else, the words bottled inside me for far too long. Maybe because he's the one person in the world who will understand. "I somehow convinced myself it was okay to do the wrong thing for a very good reason." Maybe, if I'd gone to my brother, told him what Anima had said, we could have come up with a plan to protect him and bring down the company, without putting anyone else in danger.
Frosty remains behind us, but follows close to our heels. "What are you two muttering about?"
"If it was any of your business, we'd talk louder," Justin says without looking back. Going quiet again, he adds, "Don't worry. I've been in your outcast shoes and I know how difficult it can be, but it doesn't last forever."
I rub at Betrayal. "How did you win everyone over?"
"Time. Action."
I sigh. "An eternity wouldn't be long enough for me." People died because of me. Innocent people. I deserve a dagger, not a welcome-back party. "But I'll make things right, no matter what."
"Hey, we all make mistakes. The others will remember that fact."
I don't believe him, but I offer him a smile of thanks anyway. He's trying to make me feel better and I'm grateful.
As we enter a spacious room filled with workout equipment and a boxing ring, my brother comes into view. I trip over my own foot. Frosty grabs a fistful of my shirt, yanking me back so that I never actually fall.
"Thanks," I mutter, watching as River laughs and enters the ring with Cole. Like me, my brother has a body covered in scars and black-and-white tattoos.
Black and white. Right and wrong. Nothing in between.
My heart swells with different emotions. Love. Joy--he's here, he's safe. Regret. Remo
rse. Happiness. Sadness. Anticipation. Dread.
Cole is shirtless and sweaty, muscled and just as heavily tattooed. He bears names and symbols to honor the loved ones he's lost--and those he just plain loves. Like Ali.
With his black hair and violet eyes, he's more beautiful than any other boy I've ever seen--with the exception of Frosty. I once tried to pick him up. Not because I'm attracted to him but because I hoped to use him against Ali. Anything to push her toward Anima.
Now, shame stabs at me.
Both boys are expertly skilled at combat, and it's clear they know each other's habits. When one swings, the other ducks. When one kicks, the other jumps.
"You on your period again?" Cole asks.
"Your mom is on her period," River responds.
"No mom jokes," Ali calls from the sidelines. "Or I'll punch you both in the ovaries."
"No girl jokes," Cole tells her.
"Fine. I'll punch you both in the apple bags," she amends.
"Apple bags?" River laughs. "My new favorite phrase."
"My girl gives good poetry." Cole smiles fondly, then nails River in the jaw with a hard right cross. "I give good aneurisms."
"You aren't the only one." River lands a punch of his own before spinning out of range to avoid Cole's retaliation. He stills, but his gaze keeps going, moving through the room. Always check your surroundings. You never know who's trying to sneak up on you.
He stops on me, and a humiliating whimper escapes. He loses his smile, regret pulsing from him. For a single heartbeat, at least. Does he miss me? He must. Then his expression shutters, and he nods a greeting to Justin and Frosty.
I am not a slave to my emotions, remember?
But...I think my heart is actually breaking inside my chest.
That's okay. I'll heal. Failure isn't the end; it's just a delay.
"Come on." Justin tugs me forward. "I'll introduce you to our new recruits."
I dig in my heels, staying in place. "Frosty?" I haven't forgotten my promise to him.
"Go on. But stay nearby. I mean it."
"We will, Dad." Justin flips him the bird. "We'll be in the room next to this one. Happy?"
"Only when my fist goes through your chest cavity, douche-purse."
Douche-purse. The entire crew has always loved to tease Ali about her grandmother's attempt to be cool. "Be careful," I mutter to Justin. "I've seen him do the chest cavity thing."
Justin flashes me a wicked grin. "If you think I lack the skill to protect myself, you just haven't seen me fight."