Chapter Twenty-One
JJ (Josh)
Imagine my luck. I can forgive Rett and Deo for ignoring the whole purpose of our meet-up by bringing her along. House business is best handled on campus anyway.
I’m curious why she’d been there, but I don’t want to pry.
“Hey buddy,” Hobey chirps before rubbing his feathered head against mine while tapping his wooden spoon on my neck.
“He’s just a little percussionist,” Biz says, sitting next to me on my mismatched, quilt-covered couch. Her smile wipes away my earlier worries.
Just like that she brightens my outlook.
“Greys are like little delinquents.” I duck to avoid his spoon. “Not gonna lie, I love that.”
Rett is in my kitchen, digging through the fridge. “Dude, you have nothing but sauces.”
Deo hops up to join him, causing Hobey to squawk and follow.
Giving me a minute alone with Bizzy.
My dream last night made me apprehensive. The moment feels fragile. There has to be a way to include her without giving anything about the House away, and to safely have her in my life.
“Do you like mysteries?”
Her brows rise. “Sometimes. For entertainment or real life?”
We’re interrupted by the guys bursting out laughing at Hobey as he breaks into his popular refrain, “Go, cocksucker, go. Go, cocksucker, go,” followed by Rett calling me into the kitchen.
Irritated, I jog in, but as I enter, he pulls me into the pantry and closes the door.
“Did you see your text?”
Shaking my head, I lower my voice. “Not right now.”
I know damn well my neighbors hate me because of the racket from my side of the house. Who knows if they might catch what we’re saying?
“I understand. But we have a test tomorrow.”
Meaning we have an update meeting that Hart called for the Eights.
Can Hart give it a rest until we have some idea what we need to do? He’s become hellbent on figuring out what Henry Tullis had to say.
Rett chews his lip before whispering, “We need to talk about what… God, how do I say this? I have an idea.”
Deo slips into the pantry.
“Nice. Now Bizzy’s going to think we’ve all lost our minds,” I grumble.
He puts his hands up. “Mate, if we’re pushing back against you know who… I’m in.”
But I’m not sure what our next steps need to be. The memories I dreamt about have me twisted up inside.
“Mya said we’re staying at her aunt Amy’s house when we go to the game, right? I have some questions.”
Rett slowly nods. “Agreed. But…”
A best friend’s job isn’t to talk you out of it. It's to help you do it.
“I happen to have an in.” Deo winks. Mya keeps her family secrets just as vigilantly as the Eights.
We leave the pantry to find Hobey flying a pattern through the house, screeching, “You suck. You suck. Shut up. You suck.”
Bizzy is recording him on her phone and laughing, thankfully unaware we were holed up conspiring to bombard an eccentric relative of her friends with questions about the past.
Weird times.
Rett pulls open the fridge again. “I bet these are all expired too.”
“Nah. Hey, it’s a sign of a good cook to have lots of sauces nobody else knows how to use.”
“So there,” Deo adds, moving out of Hobey’s way. “What are you making us?”
Bizzy stops recording Hobey and joins us in the kitchen. “Why were you asking me if I like mysteries?”
Both Rett and Deo look at me, startled.
Like they’re worried I’m about to give House secrets away. But I don’t want her hurt in any way.
I recover by saying, “Alright, don’t laugh at me, okay?” I hop onto the counter to sit. “There’s a Tinfoil Hat Society at the bookstore down the block from the art gallery, and every week they meet to talk about a different conspiracy theory. I signed us up.”
Rett laughs and groans. “No way. Really? This is going to be like The Oak Island saga from two years ago all over again, isn’t it?”
She makes a face. “What’s Oak Island?”
“I’m telling you, this one sticks with me.
Several people have died trying to dig up whatever’s buried two hundred feet down on this Canadian island—Oak Island.
Every time someone gets close, the pit floods like it’s protecting something.
Whole families have gone bankrupt chasing it.
The worst part about it? Some people think it’s cursed bones down there, not gold. ”
There’s something triggering about the story for me. Still is.
“That sounds… unpleasant. But honestly it just sounds like an old tale.” She leans back against the counter next to me, making it easy to rest my hands on her shoulders.
“Promise you, this bloke isn’t half as nuts as he pretends to be,” Deo tells her, squeezing some barbecue sauce into his mouth.
She presses back into my hands and sighs as I knead her shoulders.
“The only conspiracy I’ve ever heard is that nothing in history is what we’ve been told.
That humans were a lot more advanced and something wiped out all the technology, and now only the top elite of the world have it and they hide it from us. ”
Rett turns slowly to stare at me, a distressed look on his face.
Partially true… the elite holding the power and most of the wealth do keep secrets. Dangerous secrets.
But he doesn’t say anything as Deo digs around in the fridge, pulling out a Chinese takeout container. He sniffs in derision. “Mmm. Only Americans go on about conspiracy theories. Rest of the world knows it’s bullocks.”
I jump down from the counter, taking the leftovers from Deo to toss them out. “Are you fixin’ to get food poisoning? I’ll throw something together.” Turning to Biz, I ask, “Hungry? I can whip up the hash you liked last week.”
Anything to distract from where the conversation was heading.
Rett snaps out of his mood, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the living room, with Deo right behind them.
She calls over her shoulder, “Sounds incredible.”
We’ve been on the road to the West Point vs. Duke basketball game for less than an hour, and I already regret not insisting that Biz and I travel alone. I want to meet her friend, and I need to dig into the Abbott family, but this isn’t going to be an easy trip.
First, Mya recruited her boyfriend, Deo, to drive. Fine. Makes sense. Then she extended an invite to her friend Jen, who asked Liz to come. Okay, but Deo told Rett he could come. Jen and Rett dated off and on in the past, ending in a dramatic blowout at the start of the school year.
It’s a packed vehicle, tensions high.
“On a dark desert highway, Cool Whip in my hair. Warm smell of Doritos rising up in the air.” I sing along to Hotel California by the Eagles.
Bizzy, sitting between Rett and me, chuckles to herself.
Rett mumbles, “I think I’m getting an ear infection.” He took cold medication at the gas station we stopped at on the way out of town, not that it’s stopped his apparent misery.
“Did anyone else’s foul-mouthed, bingo-playing grandma blow cigarette smoke in their ear when they complained of an earache? No?” The only person even humoring me with a smile is Bizzy. She’s been fidgety, quieter than normal.
“My nanny would give me saltines and ginger ale,” Jen responds, shooting a glare at Rett before focusing on me. “Are the two of you dating?”
Bizzy looks at me with wide eyes.
I debate my wording. “I was pretty sure if I was going to start dating again, I was going to make them read out loud and tell me what continent the United States is on.” It’s a cop-out, making a joke of the question because I don’t know what we are.
We kiss, we talk for hours, but then she pulls away.
Liz turns to look between us. “You’d make a cute couple.”
Rett sighs, his head dropping onto Bizzy’s shoulder, his eyelids growing heavy. We’re interrupted as Deo is too busy bickering with Mya to pay attention.
“Okay, one more curb and I’m driving.” I tell them.
“I think we are… dating, that is. Right?” Bizzy asks, laying her hand on my leg.
Thank you, God. I’ve been seeking a response for days.
“Yes. We are.” The kiss I press to the side of her head makes Liz and Jen say “Aww.”.
My happiness over her admission is short-lived. When Liz reaches over to Jen to jostle her arm, a bracelet she’s wearing catches my attention. Gold with a figure eight and green stone.
“...Sacrifice the one, deny the four, kneel the Sentinels, the eight to fight.”
Hart has been suspicious of Bizzy, convinced she’s become a distraction. Elizabeth Timms fits the fragmented dreams I’ve had. The bracelet seals it. Only something isn’t right.
New fear unlocked… opening my heart to someone likely to destroy us. All of us.
The noose the House of Eights has around my neck just grows tighter.