Page 77 of Amethyst Flame
“Yep. Nothing’s wrong.” And I think for the first time in my life, I lied to her convincingly because the worry eased from her face. “Nothing’s changed.”
The line in the sand was still there. I was just visiting her side for a minute.
“Good,” she said with obvious relief. “Are you staying the night?” Meaning I could if I wanted. “We’ll have breakfast in the morning. Joe makes the best crêpes.”
He nodded. “Just tell me your favorite filling.”
Took everything I had, but I dredged up another smile for him. “Super tempting, but I got a big work project I’m not quite ready for, so I have to pull an all-nighter myself.”
“Like mother, like daughter,” he said.
“I hope so.” I blinked back the last of my tears. She had fought her way back from so many hardships. Maybe there was still some sort of chance for me.
“Well, I need to get back to my project,” I said awkwardly. “Rain check on the crêpes, yeah?”
He nodded eagerly, and my mom narrowed her eyes just a little, obviously not convinced that I would voluntarily walk away from any iteration of pancakes. At the front door, I gave her a big hug to throw her off the scent.
“Ryan called me earlier tonight,” she said, “and told me Brianna is coming back home. He said to tell you thank you.” She hugged me harder. “You did a good thing, honey.”
I nodded. “You were right about her being too young to be on her own. Maybe he learned something from it too, and they can still have a relationship.” I stepped out of her arms, even though it hurt. “Love you, Mom.”
Her gaze searched mine—maybe I hadn’t fooled her after all—but she too stepped back. “I love you, honey.”
She lingered at the front door, watching me jump into the Fiesta, and she leaned into Mr. Morales as if the night felt a little colder than it really was.
Yeah, I knew that feeling.
I waved to them as I pulled away.
Whatever happened to me, Swann would watch out for Mom, and I had a good feeling about Mr. Morales too.
I didn’t want to go back to Dane’s—not when I suspected I’d try to blast him and Jacob both, lying assholes—and while I probably could’ve spent the night at BantaMatrix in my very cozy office, I didn’t want to do that either.
Though I wondered if Adley’s tests had shown her the same thing that Dane’s had. I mean, probably they did, right? And if so, then she’d been lying to me too. Lying while talking about trust. And then she had given me a nice office to slowly die in? A parking spot todiein.
That was some twisted shit right there.
Which left Will and his Best Minds team, the only ones who were actively trying to find a cure. As if I wouldeverlet anyone poke and prod me again, much less a new set of white-coated creepers.
I found myself leaving town.
I had a car (hey, the Fiesta was a car; not a good one, but still a car) and a shiny new BantaMatrix expense account credit card that probably no one would review for a few days. How far could I get in a weekend? Someplace no one would ever find me, for sure.
I made it as far as the Superstition Mountains east of the city. In the middle of the night, there was nothing to see, just the headlights of a few passing cars and the flash of reflective stripes painted on the road, guiding me through the dark.
I drove higher, but then I realized I was crying again. So I pulled off at one of the dusty side roads and started to put my forehead on my hand still clutching the top of the steering wheel. The scarred X across my knuckles glowed very faintly violet. Suddenly I didn’t want to touch it.
The hive had freaked me out, scared me, thrilled me, saved me.
But I’d never hated it before. Knowing the little fuckers would kill me felt like the worst sort of betrayal, worse than Dane and Jacob using me, worse than my dad leaving—okay, maybe not worse than Mom kicking me out, but still.
I’d found Brayden up here, shot in the head for stealing the hive. He’d been young and greedy, but that shouldn’t have been a death sentence. Now I was going to die because of it too.
“Not fair,” I whispered. And for a second, I sounded like my lil sis.
Yeah, so life wasn’t fair. What was I going to do about it? Run away? Give up? Bitch about it?
Well, maybe that last part, yeah.
