Chapter 4 Rose
“At least McGregor agreed to meet with us,” Parker says later, as we trudge toward a college bar to kill time until our evening meeting.
No thanks to Parker, who’d bailed halfway through our conversation. “A meeting doesn’t guarantee his help,” I say, clenching my fists to stop hacking at my clean nails.
After cornering McGregor, we’d snuck into the college gym to clean up. Thank the academic gods for gym bathrooms and communal soap. I haven’t been this clean for weeks.
“Stop staring at me,” Parker says, running his hand across his head. He’d exited the men’s bathroom clean-shaven, hair buzzed to a number three or four.
I press my lips together to suppress a laugh. Parker self-conscious is a rare treat and there’s no way I’m going to ease his insecurity. “I’m sorry, Jimmy. It’s a massive change.”
A muscle tenses in his jaw. “When are you going to stop calling me that? And it’s not like I can drop into a barber whenever I want.”
“Are you okay?” I stare at him flatly. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I hate you,” he says, sauntering ahead of me, but not before I catch the dimple in his cheek.
“Should we contact the press? Get ahead of this so we control the story?” I call to the back of his head.
We enter the campus bar overlooking the river and weave past wooden tables filled with students reeking of body odor, stale beer and privilege.
I shout our drink order over the dim bar, competing with club chanting and drunken banter.
The moment our drinks are in my hand, Parker and I head outside where it’s quieter and I won’t cop judgment for vaping.
He leads me to a small bench overlooking the water, and I sit beside him in silence.
Tones of red, burnt orange and indigo are smudged across the sky behind the remnants of storm clouds. I let out a deep breath. Is this what life’s supposed to be like?
Perhaps if my parents hadn’t abandoned me, I’d be one of these advantaged students, drinking after class with my friends, my only worry passing my next exam. I push the thought from my mind. That will never be my reality.
I turn to Parker, who’s swirling the whiskey in his glass. My head throbs. “What if McGregor won’t help us?” I ask. If he doesn’t, I’ll be forced to choose between Parker and the one thing I’ve spent my entire life chasing: safety.
His light brown gaze flickers to mine, and he tilts his head so we’re eye to eye. “He will. Everything will be okay, Rose.” His confidence is almost believable.
“You don’t know that,” I say, unable to stomach the hope brimming in his eyes.
There’s something else there, too. Something that hints at camaraderie, because we’re riding out this storm together.
And I need to shut it down. Because Parker isn’t my ally or my friend.
I’m helping him to repay my debt to a friend, and then I’m done.
I turn toward a small rowboat floating past, creating tiny ripples in the water that blur as my eyes lose focus. “Remember, the second McGregor helps us, we go our separate ways.”
“I know,” Parker says, and for the first time since we fell into this mess, he sounds tired.
Silence stretches between us until our glasses are empty and we’re sitting in darkness.
“Are you okay?” Parker rests his arm on my shoulder.
My stomach clenches and I shrug him off. “Get off me. I’m fine.” I turn to face him, and snort. “I am worried the yacht club will replace you as their poster boy once they see your new haircut.”
The crease in his brow eases. “You’re unbearable.”
“Am I?” I ask, pushing my face toward his until we’re nose to nose. “Am I the unbearable one, Jimmy?”
Parker laughs and shoves me away. “Go get me another drink.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I turn away with a wave of my hand.
My moment of reprieve vanishes the moment I reenter the bar and line up to order.
I gnaw on the inside of my cheek, surrounded by tables of lively students in matching team colors.
Even if I swapped my Doc Martens and black clothing for the college sporting jersey or a bright sorority top, I’d never fit in. Not like Parker. It’s not in my blood.
The couple in front of me shuffles forward to order and I glimpse a young woman sitting at the end of the bar, chatting to one of the female bartenders. It can’t be. My stomach does an awkward somersault. I should turn and run, but my feet stay rooted to the spot.
The young woman has the same high cheekbones and small chin. The same strong nose, spattered with freckles. Her wavy brown hair’s shorter, but her mannerisms haven’t changed—legs crossed, ankles tangled together as she fiddles with the cuff of her sleeve.
A heavy weight pulls on my heart. She’s still humbly unaware of how everyone who steps into her orbit is drawn toward her.
Her unique blue-brown eyes are cast downward at her hands, fiddling with her sleeve.
A sad smile creeps across my face. She’s the only girl I’ve ever met who’d describe partial heterochromia as a curse.
The bartender passes her a jacket and she slips it on, her shoulders dropping as if she was missing a small part of herself without it.
She slips off the stool and grabs her bag.
I take a step toward her and stop, my heart pounding.
What am I doing? We swore to stay out of each other’s pasts. I need to go. Now.
I turn to flee and collide with solid muscle. Parker. We can still leave before any damage is done.
“Parker, let’s go,” I say, pulling him away, but he resists me.
His eyes are glued to the woman, his face twisted in regret.
I glance between him and the woman at the bar, and a prickling heat spreads across my chest. “Did you know she was going to be here?” Not waiting for his answer, I yank him toward the door.
Parker convinced me to come here to meet with McGregor. Did he have an ulterior motive this whole time?
I let go of him and storm toward the closest exit, throwing myself into the cool night air. The door swings open behind me.
“Rose, stop.”
I whip around and draw in a ragged breath, my heart thumping in synchrony with my hammering head. “Why? So you can waste another six months of my life lying to me? Admit it, you brought us here for her.”
Parker’s broad chest expands in a slow breath. “It’s not like that.”
“Then tell me what it’s like, Parker.” I shove my hands into his chest, my full body weight behind my assault, but he barely moves.
“Ugh, I’m such an idiot. Do you have any idea what this is like for me?
Holding you in this time with me, twenty-four seven, for six fucking months.
” I gesture to my pounding head. “Stuck with this relentless headache. I thought you had a plan.”
I storm away from him and find myself staring at the Charles.
The city lights reflect off the dark water, a reminder of the world that cast me aside.
My heart sinks. It feels like only yesterday that Matthews turned on us, and now here it is again—the pain of utter betrayal.
I was a fool for helping Parker. His hand closes around my wrist and I rip my arm out of his hold, as if scalded.
“Wait,” he says, his voice gruff. “I knew McGregor would be here because of her. He’s one of her lecturers.
It’s how I knew to come here, to this time.
So, I mean, I knew we might see her, but that’s not why—” Parker drags a hand across his freshly-shorn hair.
“Our plan is solid. This changes nothing.”
Parker’s a terrible liar.
“This changes everything. Us being here puts her in danger. What were you thinking?”
I draw in heaving breath after breath, my pounding headache now a vicious stabbing.
Parker’s just using me to get what he wants.
I mean nothing to him. Why am I even doing this?
I bring my hands to my temples, trying to silence the barrage of thoughts swarming my skull.
Send him back home. Be done with him. Then I’ll have what I want—to be safe and alone.
“Rose?” Parker’s voice sounds miles away.
With only myself to count on, the way it’s always been. The way I like it. The thrashing in my head builds to a crescendo and I turn away from him, a strangled cry ripping from my throat. I drag my hands down my face.
“Rose? What’s going on? Rose!”
Parker’s plea fades. A door materializes before me, and I walk through it into my bedroom.
“What’s going on?” I ask, shutting the door behind me. Flame’s in bed, leaning against the headboard. She turns toward me and I tense. Her left eye is swollen shut, the surrounding skin a deep purplish black.
She flinches as she pushes herself upright. “I made a deal with Matthews. I said I’d help him with his shield if he trains us in the gym every morning.”
“Us?” The word sounds foreign on my tongue.
She nods, brows arched, a tiny smile on her face. “You and me.”
“You know we’re competing against each other, right? I could use what he teaches us against you.”
“I know. But I trust you.” She glances down to her hands, the white bedsheet looped around her fingers. “And if anyone’s going to make it to the final test, I’d hope it was one of us.”
“But—how will I repay you?”
“Rose, wake up!” Parker shouts.
I’m thrown back into the crisp night air, knees buckling from my crushing migraine.
“What are you doing?” Parker’s hands grip my shoulders, hauling me upright.
Saliva floods my mouth and I keel over, vomiting onto the grass.
Parker supports my body as I heave until there’s nothing left inside my churning stomach.
I catch my breath and straighten, blinking at him.
Something’s wrong. My eyes can’t seem to focus.
I squint through his translucent torso, to the illuminated elm trees beside the footpath.
Fuck. FUCK. He looks like he’s about to travel.
The blood rushes from my limbs. What am I doing?
I lurch toward him and grab his forearms, snatching him back into this time with me.
His body reappears and sharp bolts of pain tear through my head.
He hauls me against his chest, cutting off my groan. I almost let him go, sending him to his assured death. And that memory with Flame… What’s happening to me?
“Fuck,” I mutter, enveloped in Parker’s arms.
“You’re okay,” he says, holding me tighter. I breathe in his familiar woody scent and my stomach drops. I yank out of his hold.
Parker’s brows twitch as he slips his hands back into his pockets. “What’s going on?”
I square my shoulders. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit. The same thing happened outside the lecture hall this morning, didn’t it? Your eyes glazed over, and you were mumbling to yourself.”
I hold his stare. “It’s nothing. I—slipped into a memory for a second. It’s not a big deal.”
“By accident?” Parker scoffs. “Jesus, Rose. You nearly lost your hold on me. Another few seconds and I’d be gone.”
And there it is. “Of course you’d make this about you.”
Parker’s mouth drops. “He’ll kill me, Rose. If you don’t have this under control, I need to know.”
“It was an accident, alright?” I snap. “It won’t happen again.”
“It’s happened twice in one day. What if next time I can’t pull you out?” He drags a hand over his short hair. “When we meet with McGregor tonight, we tell him the truth. He can’t help us if he doesn’t have all the facts.”
I want to argue, but Parker’s right. Whatever just happened, I can’t control it.
What’s the point in everything we’ve been through if Matthews kills Parker before McGregor’s even had a chance to help us?
I draw in a deep breath. “Fine. We tell him the truth. But I want you to promise me you won’t see or talk to her while we’re here.
” Parker nods his head, but it’s not enough.
“Promise me. Say it. Tell me you know you can’t start anything with her. ”
“I know,” he mutters, his gaze sliding to the dark river behind me. “I promise. From here on out, it’s just you and me.”