This Blood that Bonds Us (This Blood that Binds Us #4)

9. Nine

Nine

Presley

The door clicked shut as I showed Kimberly some of Mom’s figurines. She collected the coolest stuff, and even though she had brought none of her old ones with her, she had the same ceramic collections. Cherubs. Check. The birds—who likes birds? Check. Unusual tiny houses. Check. And one of her newer ones. Butterflies.

She’d started collecting them after Sarah went missing. I’d heard her pray over them a couple times.

“Oh. As you can see, not much changes. I just got that one this week actually.” Mom motioned to the tiny ceramic butterfly in my hand.

“It’s beautiful,” Kimberly said.

“It was Sarah’s thing. She wears—wore these butterfly necklaces all the time. I got her this butterfly pillowcase once, and it made Luke so jealous he hadn’t thought of it first.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, that weight in my chest sucker punched me. I swear Aaron winced.

“I wish I could have met her.” Kimberly smiled halfheartedly.

“She was lovely,” Mom added.

“You would have gotten along,” I said.

That icky kind of silence followed, and I knew who would be the one to break it.

Aaron shifted on his feet. “Uh, Mom. You have to be tired. It’s so late.”

“Oh . . . do you not sleep at all?”

“We do if we need to heal. Like if we lost a lot of blood from a fight or something.”

“Right,” Mom said, rubbing at the edge of her eye. “Well, I think that’s quite enough information for me to handle for the night. I have a spare bedroom down the hall next to mine.”

“Dibs,” I said.

It made her crack a smile. I missed that.

“We have some dry cabins here in the village you and Kimberly can stay in. I’ll talk to the property manager in the morning to work out payment.” She moved to a small chest next to the couch and pulled out a pile of fleece sheets and blankets for my brother. “It will be cold tonight, but there should be fresh firewood and a heater in there. No running water though, so you’ll have to shower here. It’s outside to the left. The porch light should be on.”

“No problem. Thank you,” Kimberly said.

Mom moved to give them a hug, then wrapped her arm around my shoulder and gave me a kiss on the cheek. The air from the wall heater was hot on my face, and I finally felt thawed for the first time in days. It was heaven compared to the car.

“This is the best day I’ve had in a long time.”

“Us too,” I added.

“You’ll be good?” Aaron asked, with his hand on the door and his brow lowered.

I rolled my eyes and flipped him off. Lovingly, though. He knew the difference.

The corner of his mouth tugged into a smile. “You know where to find me if you need me.”

What could I possibly get in trouble doing in the middle of the night?

I stepped into my empty room. It had a dingy wooden floor and a little bear night-light on the other side of the bed. The room wasn’t very big, but big enough to have its own wooden heater in the corner and a twin-size bed on the other wall. I sat my plastic bag full of everything I owned next to me on the bed.

It was quiet. There wasn’t anything to look at on the walls except little swirls of wood grain. The only sound was the crackling fire beside me. There weren’t any bugs chirping outside or loud parties. Not even any traffic. It was chilly even with the heater. Mom told me it would take some time for it to warm up.

I rubbed my chest. It was just me and the cold and the ache. Great. Good. This isn’t terrible at all.

It was all fine and not at all a complete and utter disaster.

I stared at the empty space next to me and ran my hand over the chilled quilt. One spot reserved for someone else. Only, he wasn’t here. I remembered the last time I’d felt like that—in an empty room at one of the random safe houses before we’d arrived in Blackheart.

I’d locked myself in a spare room. Luke was the first person to notice I was gone. The one who always came looking for me.

“Can I come in?” He’d knocked softly on the door despite the brute he was.

“Sure, if you want to get under the covers and sulk with me.”

He opened the door and took the spot next to me. The bed shifted under his weight, and I fell into his shoulder.

He waited. That was one of the best things about Luke. He’d wait and listen. Zach bolted the second things got awkward, and Aaron often would fill uncomfortable silence with babbling. But Luke was never afraid of quiet.

“I’m really going to miss Brooklyn.” I sniffled. Unaware that I even cared that much, then a tear fell. “Oh, great. We can still cry? What’s that about?”

I leaned into his shoulder. “What about our quilt? Or all the beanies Mom crocheted me?”

I cried more, and he wrapped an arm around me.

“It’s not just the clothes.” Though, I’d spent a long time collecting specific pieces from thrift stores, and I knew I’d never find them again. Which was a tragedy all its own. “What about my trip to Italy this summer? I saved for forever.”

Hours of shopping and time spent dog-sitting for the money for the trip was all wasted. All of it was gone and left back at the house.

Luke rubbed my shoulder, waiting between my blubbering.

“And my love notes!” I buried my head in my hands. “I wanted to keep those forever. Julie Goodman wrote me the most beautiful poem about the color of my eyes.”

I’d saved all the notes we’d passed during art class. Along with all my old artwork. I’d thought it was all terrible—Mom had put some of it on the fridge though.

“I know.” He squeezed me harder.

“ This isn’t fair.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Mom will be okay, though?”

“Yeah, I promise. She’s safe.”

My tears ended. It was hard to keep crying into Luke’s shoulders when he was so damn comforting.

I gasped. “No! I left Mr. Bear in my closet!”

I’d had all of five minutes to grab things from my room and had forgotten my most-prized possession. Mr. Bear, my favorite stuffed animal, was too important to leave out on a shelf where someone could come into my room and snatch him. Okay, fine, he was embarrassing, but I wouldn’t tell Mr. Bear that and hurt his fluffy feelings. Mr. Bear was special because he was Mom’s favorite toy, and of all my brothers, she’d chosen me to keep him.

“Well, Mr. Bear knows you had to go on an adventure.”

“What if he misses me?”

Luke smiled. “No, Mr. Bear has plenty of bear friends to keep him company. He told me. And a little bear family.”

Luke was right. Mr. Bear didn’t need me to be happy. He was outgoing and charismatic. He’d have company in imaginary bear world. Luke always knew what to say. I wasn’t in front of Zach where I had to pretend to tough it out, I was with Luke. The protector of every secret. Nothing was too embarrassing with him.

“You won’t tell anyone I cried over Mr. Bear, will you?”

“Never.” He wrapped me in a hug. “It’s okay to be sad. This is my fault.”

“ I don’t care whose fault it is ,” I said, with my face smashed up against his chest. “I have everything I need.”

There was another knock on the door, and Zach poked his head in. “Are we good?”

Zach cared too. He was just afraid of intimacy. Closed-off bastard.

Everything I need. The thought snapped me back, and I pulled the quilt up and over my shoulders. Suddenly, the room felt a few degrees colder than it had before. There was no knock on the door this time. It was just me and the silence and a night-light that looked strangely like Mr. Bear. I rummaged through my bag and pulled out a few photos I had left. A lot of Zach flipping off the camera. Luke always smiled in his. I held the one of us at the Halloween party in our costumes. Pictures were cruel in that way. They held a moment that was nice to remember, but you couldn’t go back.

I rubbed my chest again where the hole grew bigger and bigger by the minute.

We were finally safe, like they’d wanted, but why did it feel like I was missing something? Something I vitally needed.

My coat still smelled like smoke. I wouldn’t wash it, but I might hide it so Mom wouldn’t do it by accident. As I hauled it from the bag and straightened it out, something crinkled, and I pulled a piece of paper from the pocket.

The ink was smudged, making the zeros look like sixes.

It was a phone number signed off with –A .

The only A-named person I knew now was Aaron, and he didn’t do things like leave little notes in my pockets. I guess there was one more . . .

Akira. My stomach sank at the reminder.

The note could be from Akira. Killer vampire cult Akira. Akira, I’m really dead now Akira. He must have slipped it in my jacket at some point. But why?

Hope fluttered in chest. The sick kind you feel when you’re on a rollercoaster and then it bottoms out. Whose phone did the number go to? What if it was Luke’s or Zach’s phone? Did they have phones? Probably not, or they would have called.

Second thought, they didn’t have my number. Duh.

But maybe I had theirs . . .

I picked up my tragic little flip phone, then paused because that could be the worst idea ever. Luke specifically said to be good, but what did that even mean? Be good as in help little old ladies cross the street? Or be good as in listen to everything Aaron said? I needed specifics, dammit. He should have left me a note.

What if the person on the other end of the line ended up being my brothers? I gave it one more second before I dialed the number, then paced the room as it rang.

“Hello?” a male voice answered. Not my brother’s.

“Is Zach or Luke there?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“Is this Presley?”

“Uh.”

“He told me you’d call.”

“Who? My brothers?”

“No. Akira.”

I hung up and threw my phone onto the bed. Shit.

My heart raced and I paced again. Bad. Bad. Bad. It was fine. They couldn’t track my phone that fast or anything. Right. Everything was fine. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the wall till my heart stopped throbbing in my ears.

It wasn’t a big deal. It changed nothing. Akira gave me this number and told some guy I’d call him. No. Not important at all. The phone vibrated on the bed, and I jumped. They could call all they wanted, but I wouldn’t answer because I was going to be good like Luke said. That was the correct thing to do . . . right?