Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Amusement glinted in Sam’s eyes as he shook his head.
“I don’t have any brothers or sisters. The English guy is my Uncle Luke. Not related by blood, but still family. The one with the beard was my dad. And you already met my mom, too.”
The day I’d marched over and “welcomed” our neighbors to the neighborhood to reassure Mom they weren’t werewolves had me mentally cringing.
Sam must have felt it because he said, “Don’t worry. She likes you. They both do.”
I doubted that. Mom and I hadn’t made a good first impression on either of his parents.
“Are they staying for a while, too?” Mom asked.
Sam nodded. “Dad’s helping the police with—sorry. Probably not dinner talk.”
“I trust you can keep it dinner appropriate. Do they have any leads yet?”
Sam hesitated, and I shot him an expectant look, ready for answers.
I needed a plausible explanation for how I’d talked to Mr. Clint days after he’d died. No one could wear someone’s skin—I lightly shuddered—that convincingly. His eyes had looked like his own.
And if they didn’t think goth girl skinned him despite being an Urbat, wearing a knife, and smelling her perfume outside the doors just before we discovered him, then who else would do something that monstrous?
“I’m not sure how much Clarity has told you,” Sam said. “But what happened isn’t…natural.”
“Yeah, I saw the news,” Mom said. “It would take a seriously disturbed person to do that.”
“That’s what I mean,” he said. “It wasn’t a person. It wasn’t anyone.”
Mom and I both exchanged confused looks.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“The library has a camera behind the desk. It caught everything, which was nothing. Mr. Clint set down the book he was reading and just…collapsed into what we found.”
Setting my fork down, I turned toward Sam.
“Someone messed with the footage,” I guessed.
He shook his head. “Nothing was tampered with. Not here. Not for any of the other cases caught on camera either.”
“Are you saying someone skinned Mr. Clint and that his skin just, what? Went for a walk on its own? I saw him, Sam. He talked to me. He didn’t look well.
I told him to go see a doctor, and he told me to mind my business.
That was the day the body was on the news.
He couldn’t be in the field and in the library at the same time. ”
Sam took my hand, his gaze loaded with sympathy and concern I also felt from him.
“Does that mean there’s something more terrifying than werewolves and Urbat out there?” Mom asked, looking a little pale.
Hurt bloomed inside of me.
“You think werewolves are terrifying?” Sam asked quietly.
Shifting my fingers in his grasp so I held his hand as tightly, I shot Mom a warning look.
“Of course you’re not terrifying,” I said.
“Because he’s your mate. But don’t underestimate what they are and what they can do, Clarity. Humans aren’t at the top of the food chain anymore. Werewolves and Urbat are. But that’s beside the point. What killed him, Sam?”
He looked and felt very uncomfortable again.
“Nothing that will ever hurt you,” he said. “My family and I are working with the police to ensure this won’t happen again. Please trust me to keep you and Clarity safe. For now, no going anywhere alone. We have extra eyes on the neighborhood at night and at the school during the day.”
I glanced at Mom to see if she was as unsatisfied with the answer as I was. Based on her frown, she was.
“You don’t know, or you can’t say?” she asked.
“I'm not old enough to remember the panic when the world learned of our existence, but I’ve seen the videos. So many people needlessly died. We don’t want anyone to die, Elizabeth. We want to co-exist peacefully. Our future depends on the survival of humanity.”
“So you can’t say because whatever it is would be enough to send the world into another panic.” She sighed. “Then I guess I’ll have to trust you for now to keep my daughter safe and ignorant so she can have a life free of the panic I remember. Now, eat up.”
We enjoyed the rest of the dinner for the most part, talking about graduation and what I wanted to do to celebrate.
When it was time for Sam to go, I walked him to the door. As I stood there, reluctantly saying goodbye, I realized that each time we were together, parting got harder. Was it him, me, or both of us who were feeling clingy?
Sam lingered, brushing my hair at my temple before turning to walk away. I didn’t close the door until he reached the end of the driveway.
“We pay for heat,” Mom said.
Sighing, I closed the door and turned to her.
“You’ll see him tomorrow night,” she said, watching me.
I appreciated that she’d invited him to dinner again, but it wasn’t the same. I already missed him.
“Why don’t you read for a while?” she suggested.
Rather than retreating to my room, I sat next to her.
“Do you have any idea what would have done that to Mr. Clint?” I asked.
She shook her head, looking troubled, and I almost regretted bringing it up.
“But you agree with Sam that it wasn’t human, werewolf, or Urbat?”
“I’m not sure what to believe,” she said.
My thoughts returned to goth girl. If she hadn’t done it, then why had we smelled her perfume outside the library?
Job hunting?
With a literal knife, though?
I sighed and went to my room to research cases similar to Mr. Clint’s.
Most were from decades ago, after the werewolves revealed themselves.
I didn’t think that meant the killer had slowed down but that the news had stopped reporting them.
After changing the search terms to something less panic-inducing than “skinned humans,” I found more cases.
As Mom had said, they happened all over the world, but seemed more concentrated here in the States.
The more I read, the more I wanted to talk to Sam again. What couldn’t he say? And was it only to Mom, or did he really plan on keeping stuff from me, too?
I frowned, not liking that idea, and glanced at the time. It was just after ten. Too late to go knock on his door. At least, too late for Mom to allow it.
Thinking things I shouldn’t, I glanced at my window. Both Sam and Mom had made me promise not to go anywhere alone. But Sam was right next door. I wouldn’t really be alone. I’d be mid-transition from one person to the next.
Scenarios rapidly popped into my head, each of them centered on being alone with Sam instead of the potential danger.
We could kiss as long as we wanted.
Maybe even fall asleep together.
The idea of sleeping next to him, having him hold me all night, drew me to my feet. Moving quietly, I pulled the curtain aside and unlatched the window. It slid open with a whisper. The cold breeze didn’t faze me as I popped the screen free and set it next to my bed.
I had my bottom half hanging out the window when I felt a storm of amusement, longing, and a hint of frustration. Sam’s hands gripped my hips a second later.
Plucked off the ledge, I found myself on my feet, staring up at his impassive face in the moonlight.
The frustration was winning.
I stuck out my bottom lip, dredging up some feelings of hurt and loneliness.
“I missed you. Didn’t you miss me?”
The frustration disappeared. Longing and amusement won. With a groan, he captured the back of my head and pressed his forehead to mine.
“Clarity, I miss you every second I’m not with you. But we promised your mom we would wait and that you wouldn’t go anywhere alone.”
“But I’m not alone,” I said, wrapping my arms around his waist. “You’re here.”
He made another pained sound, tipped my head back, and kissed me hungrily. The feel of his tongue against mine melted away all my thoughts and intentions. I existed for Sam. His scent. His next breath. His heartbeat.
When he started to withdraw, I tried to follow.
“Please, Clarity,” he said, setting his forehead against mine again. “Your mom already shot me once. I really don’t want her to shoot me again.”
A soft laugh escaped me.
He kissed my forehead, and before I understood it was goodbye, he lifted me and pushed me back into my room. Pouting, I turned toward him again.
He looked like pure temptation—disheveled hair and rumpled flannel, standing in the moonlight.
“Behave, Clarity. I really want you to move in with me as soon as you graduate.”
The length of the drop-off line hadn’t shrunk since the murder, but it did move faster, thanks to the staff presence at the curb. Their scowls ensured students didn’t linger outside.
I nodded to my Spanish teacher as I hurried toward the security checkpoint.
Len, Mirae, and Jene stood just inside, talking to each other.
“Hey,” Mirae said, spotting me. “Did you hear that they have someone in custody? I heard it from my cousin, who’s friends with someone in the police department.
They’re being really quiet about who, but it sounds like someone from out of town.
” She smiled. “Hopefully, life can go back to normal now. I’m tired of getting up early so my dad can drop me off. ”
“I can pick you up,” Len offered. “Same for you, too, Clarity. I know your mom has to work.”
“My mom doesn’t mind dropping me off,” I said, thinking how much Sam would mind Len taking me to school.
The first bell rang, and we parted ways to hurry to our first-period rooms. My friends weren’t the only ones talking about the potential arrest, and I wondered if it was goth girl. If so, was it a decoy arrest, or were the police not listening to Sam?
By lunch, the conversation in the cafeteria rang with excitement and gossip. Friend groups were already making plans for Friday night get-togethers.
“Once is enough for me,” Mirae said, taking the seat across from me with Jene. “Especially with the news. I still don’t want to go outside at night, even when there’s someone with me. That haunted house was too scary for me.”
Jene smirked and watched Len sit next to me.
“What about you, Len? Are you going?”
He shook his head. “We have practice and a game this week.” He glanced at me. “Are you and Sam going?”
No jealousy. No disappointment. Just open curiosity.
“Doubt it. A rumor won’t be enough to lift my mom’s lockdown.”
“Same,” Mirae said. “My dad already confirmed he’s picking me up after school.”
“Any details about who they arrested?” I asked.
“Not an arrest. Just questioning for now,” Mirae said. “And no details.”
“Guy? Girl?”
She shook her head, and I thoughtfully focused on my lunch while half-listening to their conversation.
When we parted, Len said he hoped he’d see us all at the game Friday night.
The rest of the day finished quietly, and Len waited in the hallway like the day before.
“How do you always get here first?” I asked, since I hadn’t dragged my feet packing this time.
“They let me leave a few minutes early so I can gear up for practice,” he said. “But don’t feel guilty or anything. It doesn’t take that long, and I’m not missing out on anything.”
Taking him at his word, I nodded and walked out with him.
The jealousy wasn’t quite as strong this time. The yearning was, though. I spotted Sam leaning against his truck across the parking lot. Our eyes met, and he motioned for me to join him.
“I think my ride’s here already,” I said to Len. “Thanks for walking me out again.”
“No problem. Hopefully, your mom will let you come on Friday for the game,” he said. “Get Sam to come with you. You could make it a date.”
I smiled and waved as he left, then weaved through the pickup lane to the parking lot, where Sam waited.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Waiting for you.”
“Why? I mean, I like that you’re here, but is there a specific reason?”
That hint of jealousy ebbed and flowed inside of me.
His expression gave nothing away as he caught my hand and played with the tips of my fingers. The way he was trying to avoid what he was feeling and how much he wanted to touch me was kind of cute.
“There isn’t a job in the world where I’d be able to avoid talking to other men for the rest of my life,” I said when he remained quiet.
“I know.”
Guilt came with his soft admission.
“Good. Because I really don’t want to be locked away in some mountain hideaway, unable to talk to anyone but you. Well, actually, that might be nice for a few weeks. Maybe that’s something we can think about for a honeymoon. Do we get one of those?”
He went still and kept his gaze on my fingers even as I felt the tremble in his and how much he’d liked what I’d said.
“Yes, we do. And we can go somewhere secluded if you want.”
“Hmm. I’ll need to think about it. Want to go to a football game on Friday to watch Len play? He invited us both.”
Sam finally looked up at me. “Does he know we’re together?”
“Is that what we are?”
He made a pained face, then hugged me tightly. I laughed and hugged him back.
A car horn startled us apart, and I turned to look at Mom in her car. She rolled her eyes and motioned for me to hurry up.
“I’ll see you at home,” I said.
He nodded and watched me walk away.
“Am I going to need a spray bottle for you?” Mom asked as she pulled out onto the road.
“Maybe,” I said honestly. “It’s really hard not to want to be around him. But he’s really good about following the rules. When I opened my window last night, he was right there to push me back in and remind me you’ve already shot him once.”
Mom snorted, then sighed. “I guess it’s lucky he’s talking to me.”
“I’m tempted to ask him to show me where you hit him.”
“They heal quickly. I doubt there’s a scar.”
“I just want to see if he’ll take his clothes off for me.”
She laughed hard all the way home, then told me not to cause Sam too much trouble before going inside to start dinner.
I looked over at his driveway as he parked, and I grinned as he came over.
“You’re amused,” he said.
“So’s Mom. Let’s go help with dinner.”
Like the night before, we worked together to make dinner—homemade pizza and a salad. Our conversation strayed to the murder again, but only because they both wanted to know what happened in school.
“Is it true they have someone in custody?” I asked Sam. “Or are they saying that because of how worried everyone is?”
He glanced down, and I could feel his guilt.
“It’s smart to spread that rumor if someone isn’t actually responsible,” Mom said. “We don’t need neighbors turning on neighbors again. Speaking of, we should make our big batch of chili soon and take some to Mr. Denkle. He could use the company.”
She caught my doubtful look.
“He’s sad, Clarity.”
“He’s suspicious.”
“Who’s Mr. Denkle?” Sam asked.
“The neighbor across the road,” I said. “The one always watching from his big window.”
“Ah. Yeah, I’ve seen him.”
“His wife died two years ago,” Mom said. “He doesn’t get out much anymore. We can stop at the store after I pick you up tomorrow, Clarity.”
I clasped my hands under my chin in a silent plea.
“But I wanted to go to a football game with Sam tomorrow night and see friends.”
“Games don’t start until seven. You two can go after dinner.”
Cheering in my seat, I finished dinner while basking in the feeling of Sam’s affection.