Part 29 (1/2)

”Fine.”

”Good. Good. Um, is Jack around?”

”No.” She started to close the door.

I put my hand on it. ”Wait. Please.”

She held still but didn't say anything. I s.h.i.+vered, but not because of the cold outside. ”Is he okay?”

”He and Will went out of town.”

I'd just seen him this afternoon. ”Alone?”

”Yes. Strange, isn't it? I can't think of what he's trying to escape.” Her tone and her pointed look told me she had an idea of who was to blame. I'd run Jack out of town.

”Okay. I guess I should go.”

She nodded, and then she said, ”Nikki, please leave my boy alone. He's been through enough.” She shut the door. Not quite a slam, but almost.

I stared at her door for a long moment, blinking back the tears. What bothered me most was that she was right. Jack obviously couldn't stand me leaving again. He didn't want to be anywhere near me when I left, so he grabbed Will and took off.

I felt sick, and I ran to my car so I wouldn't break down on Jack's front porch. I couldn't believe I wouldn't see him again. I couldn't do this. I couldn't survive what little time I had left, knowing Jack was out there somewhere, hating me.

It was time for me to do something about it.

TWENTY-SIX.

NOW.

Home. One and a half weeks left.

I was tired of hurting people. I was tired of hurting myself. When I got home, I went straight to my nightstand and took Cole's hair from the drawer. Without even stopping to think, I rushed out of the house and drove to the Shop-n-Go.

I blew past Ezra and went straight to the back, to the spot where the Everneath had spit me out.

I brought the hair up to my mouth, opened wide ... and froze.

Just do it, Becks, I told myself.

But my hand wasn't obeying my brain. I was such a coward.

Or maybe I was my mother's daughter. Our family used to have a dog, a wheaten terrier named Bert. We would joke that Bert was my mom's lost third child. As he got older, and sicker, none of us wanted to face it. Especially my mom. We all knew he wouldn't last much longer, and every extra day he lived would be painful, but my mom just couldn't put him down. One day, he wandered away and never came back.

Here I was in the same situation. My own end was inevitable. And I couldn't pull the trigger.

I stared at the hair, wedged between my index finger and my thumb. Here it was, my chance to take control of my exit, to stop hurting Jack, to stop hurting my dad and Tommy, to stop the whole d.a.m.n thing.

I brought the hair to my mouth again, and froze again. My hand wouldn't move. My breath made the hair flutter. Then I crumbled. The tears came in waves as I sank to the floor, my back against the racks that held the chocolate-covered raisins.

It was the first time I'd cried in more than a century.

Strange that I'd recovered my laughter long before my tears. Now that I'd started, I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to stop. I looked helplessly at the hair in my hand, and a couple of wet teardrops splashed in my palm.

The doors to the convenience store slammed open, and I heard frantic footsteps run toward me.

I looked up just as Cole rounded the corner of the last aisle. When he saw me, he let out an audible sigh of relief.

”Don't scare me like that, Nik.”

I couldn't answer. I lowered my head and let the tears flow. Cole sat beside me and put his arm around me, and I let him. I cried into the front of his black leather jacket, my tears pooling on the chest pocket.

”Careful. I didn't bring a life jacket,” Cole said.

I sniffled.

”Shh. It's okay.”

I guess that was how low I'd sunk, that Cole was the one person who could console me. We sat like that for a few long minutes, and when I finally had composed myself enough to speak, I said into his jacket, ”Why won't you help me? You could be a hero for once.”

He put his lips against my head. ”Heroes don't exist. And if they did, I wouldn't be one of them.”

My fingers had formed a tight fist around the single strand of Cole's hair. Cole took my hand and gently worked the fingers open, took the hair out, and put it in his pocket. I let him, and the tears began to flow again.

I shook, and Cole wrapped his arms around me even tighter. I buried my head in his chest, where I would've heard a beating heart if Cole were human. Of course there was no sound.

”If I went with you...” I started to say.

Cole tensed and waited.

”If I went with you, would I no longer have a heart?”

”Not inside you. No.”

I sighed. I didn't want to admit how good the idea sounded right about now. Especially since mine was breaking.

Eventually, I disentangled from Cole. He didn't put up a fight. Maybe because he sensed victory. Everything was falling apart. What did I have left? A week, at the most? I knew my Return was approximately six months, but the Everneath had its own pa.s.sage of time. One day soon, I would disappear. Maybe this time, no one would even notice.

Now that I knew I was too weak to go to the Tunnels early, I had two choices left in front of me. Fade into the background until the Tunnels came for me, or take what little knowledge I had about the whole thing and try to find an answer.

Cole had been right that first night he came into my bedroom, although it'd taken me this long to realize it. I did have hope. Somewhere, in the empty pit of my soul, I believed that I could get out of my debt. That I could stay here.

Since Jack had taken himself out of the picture, I knew this residual hope I was feeling belonged to me. I hadn't skimmed it from him.