Chapter 36 #2
Savvy expels a small gasp as her phone screen lights up her face. I wait for her to say something, and when she doesn’t, I squeeze her side while the friendly banter of our friends washes over us.
I could get used to this. Maybe not at a dirty picnic table, but the easy comradery and conversations.
“Grey, you have to try the fried plantains,” Madi says, shoving a small brown turd-shaped thing in my face. Glancing at my watch, I realize we’ve already been sitting here for half an hour. “Ah, I’ll pass. We should really—”
“Shit.” Roman’s curse cuts me off. He’s walking toward us at a clipped pace with a hand to his ear, so I wave him over, still trying to get Savvy’s attention. I should have taken her home fifteen minutes ago.
“Any sign of them?” I ask when Roman is close enough.
“No,” he says, and the tension in my neck recedes. “My guys are heading to the east field now. No one’s been on any of your properties today either. But I wanted to talk to you about Clover’s detail, if you have a moment.”
Savvy stiffens in my arms, but her head is down.
“I’m here.” The gruff voice is unfamiliar, and I twist on the bench to see the man standing behind me. He’s oddly familiar.
“Clover?” Braxton asks. I scan the group to find Clover blinking rapidly, but all the color has drained from her face.
“Clove?” Savvy asks, finally lifting her head.
In a tangle of limbs, Clover falls all over herself as she tries to escape the picnic table.
“Shit.” Roman sighs. “I tried to get here before he did.”
Savvy is out of my arms and around the table a moment later, while Madi attempts to balance with one leg still stuck under the table. Who knew picnic tables were so hazardous?
Roman rounds the bench to stand beside the newcomer, and now I can see the familial resemblance between them—it’s the shape of their eyes, and their dark, nearly black hair.
“What’s going on?” I ask. The tension in the air takes on an acrid scent.
Clover’s staring at Roman’s friend like she saw a ghost, and then she starts hyperventilating.
“Get him out of here,” I say, still unsure what the hell is happening.
“Clover? Are you okay?” Savvy’s asking on the other side of the table. The poor girl’s mouth is still popping like a blowfish.
The guy standing next to Roman is staring at Clover, but his expression is completely blank.
“What the hell happened?” I ask, more aggressively this time, and instantly regret it because Clover squeaks like a goddam cat toy.
“I—I.” Nothing else comes out of her mouth.
“I wanted to discuss this with you in private,” Roman says, gesturing toward the guy at his side. “This is my cousin.”
“Valen. M—my Valen,” Clover says just before she faints. Savvy barely latches onto her arm before she hits the ground.
What the hell is it with these two and fainting?
“For fuck’s sake.” Before the words are even out of my mouth, Valen has reached Clover and is lying her on her back, checking her pulse, and then all hell breaks loose.
Again.
“What do you mean, that’s Valen?” Madi starts plucking at the elastic on her wrist and pacing in a circle around Clover.
“Your cousin? You’ve known that Clover’s Valen is your cousin this entire time?” Savvy’s words are lethal.
“He doesn’t know that he’s Clover’s Valen,” Roman says.
Everyone stares at Roman while Valen pulls something from his pocket and wafts it beneath Clover’s nose.
“He’s missing most of his childhood memories. He doesn’t remember anything before he was sixteen,” Roman says. “We’ve been looking for a ghost for years. That led us here. Valen runs Styx and Stone Security.”
Clover Styx—she changed her last name to Danforth when she entered the foster care system at fourteen.
Glancing around the table, I don’t find any indication that anyone else knows that bit of information.
I’m only privy to it because I ran thorough background checks on everyone when Braxton first moved here.
Clover stirs, stares up at Valen, screams, and then passes out again—this is worse than the reality TV Savvy’s been making me watch.
Valen sighs, then lifts Clover into his arms and starts walking off without saying a word.
“Where the hell are you taking her?” Savvy demands, keeping pace with him.
I’m not far behind. “You have some explaining to do, Roman, you prick.”
“I always do.” He sighs, and I get the impression whatever is happening with Valen has weighed heavily on him for years.
Behind us, feet are shuffling to keep up.
“Stop pulling on my arm, you’re jostling her head,” the enigma known as Valen growls at Savvy.
“You’d better watch your fucking tone,” I say, but remove Savvy’s hand from his arm because he’s right.
“Birdie team, take flight.” As soon as Roman speaks, he removes his hand from his ear.
“Where are you taking her?” Savvy demands.
Lights flash on a black van straight ahead.
“Oh, no. You’re not stuffing my best friend in the back of a van.” Savvy runs ahead, spreading her arms wide. As if that’s going to stop him.
He walks around her and opens the sliding door with a push of a button. She scrambles to block him again, but in a tone that sounds like he’s been gargling with wood chips, he says, “Move.”
Behind him is what appears to be the workings of an ambulance, so before she can lay into him, I pull her to my side.
“Hey.” I spin her so she can see what I’m seeing just as Valen lays Clover on a gurney. We all crowd around as he opens another set of smelling salts.
Clover blinks her eyes open, dreamily, peacefully. Then they widen, and she goes full rigor mortis. “Am I dead?” Only her pupils move from side to side as though she’s terrified of any movement at all.
Valen’s laughter is unexpected but warm. “No, Honeybee. You just passed out.”
“Honeybee?” Madi asks. “Where the heck did that come from?”
Valen frowns. “Beats the hell out of me. You good, lady?” He stares down at Clover, and if heartbreak had a photo, she would be the poster child.
“Valen?” Clover’s body vibrates.
“Roman, you’d better have a really good explanation for this. What the hell, man?” Braxton says as he shoves his way to the front, trying to get his hands on Madi, who is attempting to wrap herself around Clover.
Clover appears to be in shock.
“Get him out of here, Roman. Let us get Clover home, and then we can talk. But to be clear, this feels like an ambush, and I’m not impressed,” I snap.
“It’s not,” he says with such determination I stop in my tracks. “It’s family.” There’s something in his eyes I recognize, something that makes me want to punch him just a little less, something like loyalty. “Valen was supposed to arrive in the morning.”
“We’ll talk.” I lean in closer to Clover. “Clove? Are you okay?”
“How? How?” she says in response.
“We should get everyone home,” Braxton says at my side. “We’ve been out here too long without guards close by. With Riley on the loose…”
I nod. “You’re right.”
“Clover?” Madi tries again.
I find a blanket hanging on the wall and wrap it around Clover’s shoulders. She flinches away from my touch, and my gut sinks.
Braxton meets my eye, and we both know there’s more to this story than anyone is privy to.
“Let’s take her back to the Hideaway,” Braxton says. “I’ll see what info I can get from Madi, and then we’ll get a doctor or…someone to talk to her.” Neither of us can take our eyes off our girls’ best friend.
Clover calls that man a friend, but if this is what happens when she sees him, we need to seriously reconsider her definition.
I inch closer to Clover with my hands held high. After close to a minute, she still doesn’t focus on me, so I move slowly toward her. “Clover? I’m going to lift you out of here, okay?”
She doesn’t say anything, her blank stare focused on where Valen had previously stood. This isn’t good. “Sav?”
Braxton backs away, and I lean out of the van.
“Savvy?” I spin in a circle, then run to the back of the van, where Valen squats with his head in his hands, but no Savvy, so I sprint to the front. “Where the fuck is Savvy?”
My heartbeat pounds in my chest.
Thump. Find her.
Thump. Where the hell is she?
Thump. I can’t lose her now.
“She was just—” Madi’s voice cuts off as she too spins in place.
“Get back here. Firefly’s missing. I repeat, Firefly is missing.” Roman climbs to the top of the van, which startles Clover, who then begins rocking in place.
This is a nightmare.
“Where is she, Roman?” I can’t breathe. My pulse pounds violently in my ears.
This is my fault.
Why didn’t I listen to Roman?
Fuck.
He warned me, and I didn’t listen.
He stands on top of the van, scanning the dark street with a pair of binoculars that appear to glow as he spins in a circle.
Feet pound on the pavement as Valen steps into view and three of their guys race toward us.
“Monroe!” Her name is ripped from my lungs as though it has spikes and talons attached to every syllable.
I race to the end of the street.
Look both ways.
Run back.
Whatever has happened to her is on me.
“Where is she?”
Madi stays with Clover while Braxton backtracks to the concession stand.
Her name is called over and over again.
Savvy?
Sav?
Savannah?
“Monroe!” My knees tremble. I’m stumbling through the empty street.
Where the hell is she?
What have I done?
“We were all right here,” I say, returning to the van. “Right here. Right. Here!” My voice echoes off the metal walls of the van.
I didn’t listen. Roman’s right—I am an arrogant prick. Me and my fucking need to do things myself might have just cost me another life I couldn’t afford to lose.
It’s my sister all over again, except this time I had the help. I had them right here, and I sent them away.
I double over with my hands on my knees and vomit. It’s an exorcism of guilt that’s building like a tidal wave.
Reaching into the van, I wipe my mouth with the corner of a sheet.
Someone moved Clover. Madi’s no longer here either.
How long has it been?
Where the fuck is my wife?
“We’ll find her.” I don’t know who says that. I don’t care.
“He took her.” The words are so low, no one hears me. “He. Took. Her.” I roar.
“I’ve got her,” someone shouts. “Her phone is moving on the other side of the fairgrounds.”
I follow the voice.
“Let me see.”
Braxton stands at my side as Roman ushers me closer to Valen. “She’s here.” He lifts his gaze from his screen, spins forty-five degrees, then points. “She’s headed that way.”
I don’t hear anything else they say because I take off at a dead sprint.
I’m coming, Monroe.
I should have accepted help.
I’m coming.
I’m so fucking sorry.
Please don’t let it be too late.