Page 27 of Journey

My brothers all speak over one another before Crow nods.

“Church dismissed.”

After they’ve all left the room and I’m alone, I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling. There isn’t a single part of me that thinks Wren is anything other than pure light, but what if one of her personalities is? Can I extricate myself from her and hand her over to Crow, or will I have to cut ties with the only family I have?

Sonofabitch.

CHAPTER 14

WREN

You can run, but you can’t hide.

“I can’t waitto deliver these.”

I smile at Laura, who’s been gushing over the final drawings I brought to her for the last twenty minutes. I’ve been so preoccupied lately with thoughts of Journey that I was starting to worry that I wouldn’t finish them in time, but when I went into my home studio this morning, they were complete.

I don’t remember finishing them, but that’s nothing new. Dr. Young has told me about Drew, the one alter who’s as artistic as me, so when stuff like this happens, I always assume it’s his doing.

“When we talked last, you said you had another project lined up,” I say, uncomfortable with her praise.

She returns the drawings to the large manilla envelope and sets it aside. “I think you’re really gonna like this one. The book is about a little girl who meets a biker and gets scared because of the way he looks. By the end of the story, she realizes that he’s a very nice man, and the lesson is to not judge a book by its cover.”

Say what?

The description of this new project hits a little too close to home. I must be a glutton for punishment because rather than turn down the work like I should, I’m excited by the idea of something that allows me to think about Journey.

“I look forward to reading it,” I say when she hands me the folder containing the story. “Does the author have any specific requests?”

“Nope. She’s seen a lot of your previous work and trusts you to make the story come to life in a way that’s appealing for kids.”

We spend the next ten minutes discussing ideas, and by the time I leave, my nerves are buzzing with anticipation. I’m eager to get home and begin, but I have a few errands to run first. The grocery store is my main priority because I’m tired of leftovers and takeout.

As I meander through the aisles and randomly toss items into the cart, my brain is going a million miles a minute about this newest book. I already know exactly how I’m going to draw the biker thanks to my memories of Journey. But the little girl is another matter entirely.

An image of myself keeps filtering into my thoughts, but I refuse to do that. It seems too… personal.

I stop at the deli to get some lunch meat, and as I’m waiting for the girl to slice up my order, I scan my surroundings. My gaze lands on a familiar face, and my heart races, and the voices make themselves known.

What’s he doing here?

Bikers have to eat, too.

Go talk to him!

He’s not worth your time.

Journey is walking in my direction, and before he spots me, I turn around and race to the next aisle, my deli order forgotten.

What are you doing? He could be research.

Instead of running, you should drag him out to your car and ride him like he rides his Harley.

He’s no damn good for you.

“Shut up,” I snap.

“Excuse me?”

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