Chapter 14 #3
Ruth looks around at the enforcers, who are getting up, angrier than ever, and then Hiram feels her hand on his arm. “Don’t disappoint me, Ellis.”
It’s dark when Hiram emerges from Holding with a freed Ruth in tow.
“Those assholes still have my hat,” she grumbles.
“We’ll get it back tomorrow.”
Expecting to find Clinton gone, Hiram is surprised when he’s still there.
And not alone. Khadijah sits beside him, but for the first time, she’s glaring with more suspicion than hate.
Hiram scrubs a hand over his face, too tired for another fight after hours of arguing with enforcers on behalf of a person who didn’t trust that he’d get her out without charges filed until the moment the signed release papers were in her hand.
“Thank you,” Ruth says earnestly. “I can’t believe you didn’t fail me.”
Hiram ignores the slight. “I’d be a terrible attorney if I were intimidated by a room full of people who share the same brain cell.”
Ruth chuckles. “How much do I owe you?”
“I don’t want your money.” He glances over to find Ruth peering up at him, mouth tight. “What?”
“Clinton thinks you are the answer to bridging the gap, that you’ll do great things for our community. It’s why he invited you to the town hall. I called bullshit, and while I meant what I said, now I wonder . . .”
“Feel free to maintain your prior opinions about me.”
“Then I owe you a favor.”
Hiram doubts he’ll collect. “Deal.”
Clinton turns to the sound of their voices. “Ah, excellent work, Mr. Ellis. That only took six hours.”
Hiram makes a face, but Clinton can’t even see his expression. “You’re joking, right?”
Khadijah rolls her eyes. “My uncle’s sense of humor is baroque, at best. What he means is he’s gracious.”
“That I am.”
Hiram is ready to go. “Whatever, it’s—” His phone starts buzzing repeatedly. He glances at the screen and his heart crashes. Message after message from Peter. They begin shortly after four o’clock and become increasingly urgent as time passes. He fires a message back saying he’s on the way.
He’s late.
Without bothering to excuse himself, Hiram runs to his car, breaking several traffic laws as he races across town to Weston Academy.
He calls Peter back five times, but there’s no answer.
It’s nearly seven, and the school is dark except for a single light next to the front door.
Hiram leaves the car running and knocks on the door, then pounds on it when there’s no immediate answer.
Veda pushes the door open. In his hazy panic, he doesn’t notice how furious she looks.
“You’re late.” Her voice is arctic. Unsettling. Her eyes are red like she’s been crying.
“I was—”
“Save it. I don’t want to hear your excuses.” A dry laugh escapes and she shakes her head. “I can’t believe I nearly fell for your good-father, I’ll-be-here-more-often act. Utter bullshit.”
“Where is he?”
“Asleep. But not before having a panic attack because the only parent he has left forgot him.”
Hiram is stunned into silence, his guilt louder than Veda’s fury. “It was an accident.”
“An accident is mixing up salt and sugar. This was irresponsible.”
“Irresponsible?” Hiram scoffs. Furious with himself, he can’t help but lash out. “The only thing irresponsible is the fact that you’re still around children despite having a serial killer after you.”
“The only thing irresponsible?” Veda recoils as if slapped. “Seriously? When your mother is right there? Yes, that makes perfect sense.”
“You care a lot about a child that isn’t yours.” It’s another comment that’s been lying low in his subconscious. It’s out now. He can’t take it back, even if he wants to, even if he hates the way her expression changes.
“You think I want to care about him when I don’t know the minute this curse will wake up?
” Veda scrubs her face. “You think I want that for him? To be someone else who leaves him? No. I’d rather fight the Botanist myself if it guarantees he won’t be forgotten by another person.
I know he’s not mine. I am completely aware of this.
The only reason I’m even here is because I saw a little boy who was hurting and grieving.
You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone you love in an instant.
I’ve been exactly where he is. Lost. Grieving.
Drowning. And I refused to leave him to struggle alone. ”
Her words are raw and honest, and he can’t face them without feeling like a complete asshole. “Congratulations, you’re a decent person. I’m glad you don’t treat him like you do me.”
“He’s not like you or your family.”
“He’s my son,” Hiram snaps. “I didn’t raise him, but he’s a reflection of me, whether you like it or not.”
Veda scoffs, but her demeanor cracks.
“I was late because—”
“I don’t care,” she fires back, hot tears running down her cheeks. “I’m so fucking disappointed in you. I thought—you know what, fuck it, I’m done.”
She pushes past him, but instinctively he throws a hand out, stopping her. “Look—”
“Move.” Veda looks ready to break him in half.
“Let me explain.”
“No.” They’re nearly face-to-face; insolence and anger bleed from her.
“You need to do better. No excuses. No bullshit. Antaris is kind and brilliant. He’s so compassionate.
You need to protect that. Protect him. She—” Veda swallows thickly.
“She’ll suffocate the good out of him if you don’t.
He’ll resent you, or worse, he’ll become you. ”
Hiram flinches. As angry as he is, he can’t ignore the pain of her words. “You don’t know fuck all of what I have or have not done. You don’t even know me, much less—fuck it, now I’m done talking. You’re fired.”
“You didn’t hire me.” Veda touches her forehead, and tears fill her eyes.
“I would have already quit after spending the entire evening consoling him, assuring him that you haven’t left him, that you were coming back, that you weren’t dead somewhere.
But you’re stuck with me because, as long as I’m alive, I’m not abandoning him.
You weren’t here when he started wondering, worrying, when he started sobbing uncontrollably.
I did the hard part, now it’s your turn. ”
“Where is he?” Hiram asks tightly.
“In Peter’s office.” Veda pushes past him, storming off toward the dark parking lot. He watches her sit on the edge of the fountain and bury her face in her hands.
Hiram doesn’t spare her another look. His mind is a cacophony of misfiring emotions. Peter’s office doesn’t make him feel any more settled. It’s a mess of uneaten food and looks like a tornado went through it. The man himself looks haggard, straightening books and picking up papers.
Relief blooms at the sight of Hiram. “What happened to you? Veda—”
“Screamed at me and stormed off. I was downtown involving myself in Seer shit I shouldn’t have bothered with had I known all this would have happened.
” Hiram’s eyes land on Antaris. He’s curled up on the couch, blanket clutched to his chest, face puffy from crying, distress radiating from him even in his sleep.
“I tried to call you—”
“My phone didn’t turn back on until I left the building.”
“I almost called Simran, but that would have made matters worse.”
Peter’s words fade to the background as Hiram kneels beside his son, flinching at his touch even in his sleep. Veda was right.
“I fucked up.”