Chapter 16
INDIA
We only learn the unconscious man’s name after Poppy’s examination, when Cyrus pats him down dispassionately and retrieves a wallet from the guy’s back pocket.
“There,” he grunts, passing the wallet to Poppy. “Luca Slater.”
“Luca Slater,” she repeats with a little frown, inspecting the ID. “Well, I think he’s fine, but let’s try to wake him up and see how he feels.”
Cyrus crosses the kitchen, leaving footprints in the dusting of flour—the flour that so far no one has asked about; that’s how chaotic this whole event has been. He opens the cupboard next to the sink and pulls out a glass. Then he fills it with water and returns to where we’re huddled around this guy—Luca, I guess. He doesn’t so much as hesitate or even blink before throwing the water right into Luca’s face.
Luca twitches at first, a little jolt of energy that seems to zip through him. Then he startles violently, sitting upright so fast that he almost collides with more than one of us. We all back away at his sudden return to consciousness, except for Juliet—who flings herself at him, throws her arms around his neck, and bursts into tears.
“You’re alive, ” she wails, the words almost incoherent.
Luca Slater goes rigid, his face dripping water, glasses obscured, expression bewildered as he no doubt struggles to register the twenty-four-year-old woman now clinging to him like a life raft.
“What the—” he mutters.
“Get off him, Jules,” Aurora says, darting in to pull Juliet away.
Juliet unwinds her arms from around Luca’s neck and collapses into Aurora’s arms instead. “I thought he was dead,” she sobs. “And we were all going to go to jail?—”
“I know,” Aurora says, patting her firmly on the back. “I know, but everyone is fine. Calm down.”
“And he’s so handsome, ” Jules goes on through her tears, “and his children would grow up without their father?—”
But as I look at him now, I’m not sure Luca Slater is old enough to have multiple children. He seems closer to Cyrus’s age; his hair is thick and dark, his jaw sharp, his face still confused but youthful enough.
We’re all confused, for that matter—because this guy looks too bewildered to have been breaking in or robbing the place, which means he’s probably a tenant our parents forgot to tell us about. The only two who don’t seem befuddled are Cy and Felix; they both look mutinous instead.
“Luca Slater,” Cyrus says with an expression that could turn coal into diamonds, “what are you doing here?”
“I’m renting this house,” Luca Slater says, confirming my worst fears as he takes the group of us in, his posture defiant now. “Who are you?”
Understandably, Luca Slater has some concerns.
When he’s climbed to his feet and we’ve confirmed that no one is seriously injured, Jules and I manage to get out an explanation.
“And once again,” I finish as I try valiantly to make eye contact even though I’m mortified, “I’m so, so sorry. Truly.” I swallow and force myself not to fidget as we face each other in the kitchen. The dusting of flour is still on the floor, and it’s going to be a pain and a half to clean. “I had no idea you were the tenant,” I go on.
“And you were reaching for the knives,” Juliet adds tremulously, her eyes big and watery.
“I was hanging up my keys,” Luca says, sounding exhausted and frustrated. For the first time I notice a set of keys on the floor, and my eyes jump to the little hook on the wall above the knife block. It’s where my mom hung stray potholders and keychains and…yeah.
Sometimes her keys.
“Let’s get down to business,” Felix says when no one responds, a steely, unfamiliar glint in his eyes. Gone is the playful, flirtatious man I’ve gotten to know; in fact, Felix and Cyrus are still glowering, wearing identical don’t-mess-with-me expressions, their arms folded tightly across their chests as they lean back against the kitchen counter.
For the first time in my life, I might understand how they get along so well. And I guess I’ll hand in my feminism card, because there’s something attractive about Felix like this—protective and caveman-ish. My eyes trail over him again, over the brow that furrowed when he rushed to me earlier, checking if I was okay—over the hands that held me in place so he could inspect my body and my well-being.
I swallow at the memory and look away.
“What business?” Luca Slater says, sighing like he’s so done with us.
Which, to be fair, is not unwarranted.
“Are you going to press charges?” Cyrus says now. He jerks his chin toward me and Jules. “They didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“They definitely did,” Luca mutters with a dark look at us. “But no. I have no desire to press charges against anyone. Just—clean up the flour”—he gestures at the dusted kitchen floor—“and don’t barge in whenever you feel like it, and I’ll be fine.”
I clear my throat as relief pounds through my veins, sweet and potent. “That’s more than fair,” I say.
“Absolutely,” Juliet says, nodding fervently. “I’ll clean up all the flour.”
Luca shoots her a skeptical look, his eyes lingering on her tear-stained face, probably remembering how she flung herself at him, or how she tried to attack him before that.
“And let me give you my number,” she babbles on, “just in case?—”
“That won’t be necessary,” Luca says, holding up one hand to stop her. He towers over us, taller even than Cyrus and Felix, and something about the way he speaks is foreboding.
“No,” Juliet says, hurrying past me and looking earnestly up at him. She’s clearly not picking up on the same stay-away vibes I am. “I would have offered even if all this hadn’t happened.” She gestures around the kitchen at the lot of us. “I’m helping our parents while they’re gone, checking on the house, making sure the tenant has everything he or she needs?—”
“It’s really not necessary,” he cuts her off again, removing his glasses and wiping them with the hem of his shirt. “Please just—clean up the flour and then go.”
I shoot a glance at Aurora just as she looks at me, both of us with brows raised in surprise.
“I—okay,” Juliet says, her voice faltering. “We’ll clean up and leave.”
Luca nods curtly, his eyes trailing over every last one of us, and then he sweeps out of the room without a backward glance.
The second he’s gone, Cyrus turns his glare on me, Aurora, and Juliet. “You three,” he says, pointing at each of us in turn, “are grounded.”
Aurora snorts; I frown.
“I’ve got bad news for you, Cyborg,” Aurora says—Cyrus’s fists clench at the nickname. “You can’t ground any of us. We’re adults. And besides”—she throws a glance at me and then Juliet—“they’re the ones who made this mess.”
My jaw drops as Juliet’s eyes widen in outrage.
“Way to throw us under the bus,” I say, whirling on my traitor of a big sister. “You’re the one who was going on about how we needed to get our stories straight?—”
“Good grief,” Cy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“ And you said we needed to figure out a plan,” Juliet pipes up, her brow furrowed at Aurora.
“That was when I thought that guy was dead,” Aurora says. “Now I know he’s fine.”
“Ladies,” Poppy cuts in quickly when Juliet shows signs of responding. “Let’s get this place cleaned up and leave. Okay?” She looks around at us. “All’s well that ends well. Mistakes were made on multiple counts, but?—”
“Speak for yourself,” Felix cuts her off with a snort. Then he looks at me. “You did good, Sunshine. It must have been a pretty solid hit to take down a guy that big.” His gaze skates over my face once again, softer now. “You feeling all right?”
I swallow, my eyes dropping to the flour-coated floor as something queasy turns in my gut. “Yeah,” I say.
He’s alive, I tell myself. You didn’t kill anyone, and he’s not pressing charges. He’s alive, and you’re alive.
You’re alive. It was scary, but you’re alive.
More tears prick at my eyes as a wave of—what? Fear? Exhaustion? Gratitude? The emotions wash over me as through my mind plays image after image—Luca Slater approaching, flour poofing into the air, Luca crumpling onto the floor.
And then, before I can stop them, more images—the car pulling in front of me from out of nowhere. I try to push that memory away, but it bulldozes in. The world going sideways as I crashed, the burn of my aching body?—
Stop!
I’m fine. I’m alive. I’m fine .
I squeeze my lids shut to stop my eyes from stinging.
“Mmm,” Felix says skeptically, and when I look at him, his gaze is still on me. “Liar.” He straightens up, stepping away from the counter he’s been leaning on. “Come on.”
I blink at him. “Come on…where?”
“No one is going anywhere until this kitchen is clean,” Cyrus says firmly, and I nod, looking at Juliet.
“Let’s get started,” I say.
Her faintly hurt expression is still aimed at where Luca Slater disappeared from the room, but now she turns to me. “Yeah,” she says with a little sigh. “All right.”
“You have…fifteen minutes,” Felix says, turning to look at the clock on the wall. “Then you and I are out of here, Sunshine, whether you’re done or not.”
Cyrus blinks at him, his brow furrowed behind his glasses. “Wrong,” he says in a flat voice. “She’s staying here until?—”
“Until fifteen minutes from now,” Felix cuts in smoothly. “When I will be taking her.”
“Taking me where?” I say. To the store? To dinner? To the police station? To a therapist?
“It’s a surprise,” Felix says instead of giving me a real answer. Then he waves his hand at the kitchen floor, grinning. “Better hurry. Clock’s ticking.”