Forget Me Not (18 page)

I pull myself onto my feet and inch back across the ropes. I need to find a way down. Shuffling along the bridge, it takes forever to reach the hanging rope, but finally I get to it and slide to the ground and to Jax.

* * * *

The light has already seeped out of the day as we approach the farmhouse. It makes everything dull and colorless. In stark contrast, the chatter of voices floats on the breeze as we approach the front door. Jax holds it open, and I duck under his arm and inside. The smell of cooked food makes my stomach growl. It feels like so long since I last ate.

Will sits with Lilly and Marcus at the back of the dining room, all leaning in together, the cadence their voices rising and falling. The drawn look and dark circles hanging under his eyes flood me with guilt.

“I thought you’d be stuck up there all night,” Jax says from behind me. As we weave our way through the room to join them, he pokes me in the side, right on the tender spot above my hip. I squirm, squeal, and jump away.

Will’s gaze flies to mine, and I meet it with a smile. He springs up and throws his arms around me. “Mae.”

I squeeze him to me.

When I pull away, he’s looking at Jax. “Where have you been?”

“I took her out, showed her a good time,” Jax says.

“Hi, Lilly.” I sink into the empty seat beside Will’s.

“Hey.”

Will gives a slight shake of his head and returns to his seat. “So the pretty boy snapped you out of it.” His words, each snapped short, come through clenched teeth.

“Aw, look, he thinks I’m pretty,” Jax says with a bemused smile.

Will glowers, and Jax smirks.

I exchange a brief look with Jax. He shrugs half-heartedly, the mask of indifference plastered onto his attractive face once again. No answers there. What’s with Will? He’s never mean to anyone, so why Jax? Surely he doesn’t still distrust him, not after all Jax has done for me, for us. He’s not a jealous friend, but it’s like something about Jax just irks him.

“Boys, that’s enough,” Lilly says and turns to me with a warm smile. “It’s good to see you’re back to yourself.”

Will mutters something under his breath which I don’t quite hear. He pushes his plate away, knocking over his glass. Juice pools on the table. His chair scrapes across the floor as he shoves it back and stalks out of the dining room.

“Thanks for letting me examine your cover-up,” Marcus says like nothing happened.

“No worries.” I snatch up Will’s glass and set it upright while Lilly mops up the mess.

I really don’t understand what’s going on with Will or what that was all about. I can usually read him so well, but lately it’s like parts of him have been rewritten in a foreign language. It could just be his over protectiveness again, but, really, he’s got nothing to worry about with Jax. He won’t hurt me. I push my chair back; better make sure he’s okay.

Lilly reaches across the table and grabs my arm. “Let him go.” She takes a plate from the pile, scoops something brown and lumpy from a pot in the center of the table onto the plate, and pushes it toward me. “Eat.”

I look at her across the table, the delicious smell making my tummy grumble.

“He will be okay. You’ll make it worse if you run after him.”

“But—”

“Leave it.”

“But—”

“No. Eat.”

Sighing, I swallow a mouthful of the delicious stew. Will’s never needed space. It doesn’t make sense he needs it now. We’ve both always been there for each other. Solid, steady, strong. That’s our friendship.

“The pendant is the key which activates the projector, the brooch,” Marcus says.

“Huh?” Is he talking to me?

“Your cover-up.” He sighs.

“Oh, right.” Concentrate, Mae. But I can’t pull my thoughts away from Will.

Marcus keeps talking about keys and projectors.

Does he mean like a data projector? It makes me think of the conversation with Jax about how the hide-all projects a shield to keep us hidden from The Collective. The Collective… if they have control of society as a whole and they manipulate every event in this world, then they must pull massive political power. My mind races faster than I can think. This is good; there’s always corruption in politics. If Dad’s said it once, he’s said it a million times, ‘where there’s corruption, there’s opportunity.’

Something jabs my shin. It hurts, and I yelp. My head shoots up, and Lilly looks at me like she’s waiting.

Marcus continues talking. “It opens up to project an electromagnetic field which bends the light around an object, giving it the illusion of invisibility.”

Lilly laughs. “I think you lost her somewhere around key.”

Marcus continues, oblivious to my previous lack of attention. “If you remain still, you are completely invisible. If you move, you will shimmer like a wavy heat pattern.”

I nod and continue to eat my dinner. Hopefully he won’t ask if I understand.

“Like a road on a hot summer’s day.” Jax slouches back in his chair.

I’m not listening anymore; a plan’s growing in my mind. The roots searching, seeking, sinking, taking hold until it’s fully grown.

Collective, corruption, exposure, opportunity.

Will’s slumped in the
dusty blue lounge, his fingers knitted together while he stares at the television. He’s not alone. Sam sits by the cold fireplace, leaning forward over the low timber table. The pages of his newspaper make a snap as he flips through it. I drop into the lounge beside Will, enjoying the way it makes me feel hugged. It feels like so long since I was last embraced.

“Is everything all right?” I ask.

He grunts like he doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

“What was that?”

“What?”

I look at him with a raised brow. He knows what I mean
—the way he just acted in the dining room.

“Nothing,” he says in a flat voice.

“It wasn’t nothing. You were upset.” Should I mention the way he treated Jax? No, it’ll make matters worse. Jax seemed to be what set him off.

“I said it was nothing, Mae. Just drop it.”

Lips pressed together, brows drawn, jaw clenched, Will stares at the boxy television. I sit in silence beside him. He’ll talk if I wait it out. We both work the same way. I can’t keep it in, though. It’s probably my fault he’s so angry. “I’m sorry I zoned out for days. I just didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Without answering, he slumps his arm over the back of the couch, then drops it to my shoulders. We slide into comfortable silence, and it feels good to know we’re okay. 

Loud explosions and gunfire blares from the action movie. The hero keeps making stupid mistakes, which makes me talk to the screen. “Idiot. Oh, come on, she’s over there.”

It’s all a bit silly. The guy tries to outsmart his enemy, but he’s always one step behind. I know it’s Hollywood, so it’ll come together in the end. Doesn’t mean it’s any good, though. I roll my eyes and huff. If only real life was so easy. I certainly feel like I’ve been trapped in a movie with all this insane stuff happening around me.

I glance up at Will to check he’s still awake; he looked so tired earlier, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are fixed on Sam who’s no longer reading. Beau’s perched opposite him, talking in quick and urgent whispers. Something in my gut, an intuition maybe, tells me something’s going down.

“What’s happening?” I ask.

“Shh, I’m trying to hear,” Will says.

“…taken…
Manvyke… from the house….” I sit up straighter, tilting my ear forward, but it’s no use. I can’t hear them properly.

Sam glances in my direction, rubs the back of his neck, and looks away. Beau’s lips barely move as he talks, so I can’t read them. Sam glances back again, his eyes catching mine for a moment. All the moisture in my mouth dries up. What are they whispering about? Something’s not right. He nudges Beau, who also looks at me. Breaking eye contact after a brief moment, they both get up and walk out of the room.

Even though the movie blares, I can hear Will’s whispered words. “Sounds like a hostage situation.”

“That’s not good,” I say. “They looked pretty serious.”

Will leans closer toward me. “I couldn’t hear much, but it sounded serious. I didn’t catch the first part of what he said, but Sam looked pretty agitated.”

He closes his eyes, puts his hand to his forehead, and takes a deep breath. Is he hiding something from me? Surely he wouldn’t, but after his behavior in the dining room I can’t be sure. The side of my thumb finds my front teeth, and I chew.

“Do you think it’s anything to do with us? They kept looking at me,” I say.

“I don’t know, but I got the feeling they didn’t want us to overhear.”

Voices come from behind us, making me jump. I glance over my shoulder as Jax, Marcus, and Lilly stroll through the arched doorway. Jax’s hands are stuffed into his jacket pockets, and his hair crosses his creased forehead in a tousled wave. There’s more emotion in his expression than normal. Something about it sits wrong.

“What’s the movie?” Lilly squishes onto the couch between me and Will.

“An action show. It’s almost over,” he says.

Jax’s eyes hold mine, his lips pressed together in a slight grimace. I frown and mouth, “What?” He shakes his head.

Sam strides between us, breaking our look. He squats in front of me and Will, his face deadly serious, his gaze strong and hard. “Beau needs to see you in his office immediately.”

“Why. What is it?” I clasp Will’s arm.

“Just come,” Sam says.

I pull myself out of the sagging lounge. Will’s arm falls around my shoulders again and pulls me into his side. Jax moves to follow, but Sam shakes his head. “Just Will and Mae.”

Jax looks at me with a furrowed brow before lowering himself onto the patched armchair. Hostage. The word rushes through my mind on the short walk to Beau’s office. There’s a hostage, and Beau wants to see us. Please, no. I try to stop my thoughts from running out of control.

Beau paces the room like a caged animal. He looks straight to Sam. I’m not sure he even notices we’re here. “Get Evan and Garrett.”

Garrett the spy? Evan? The second name isn’t familiar. Who is he?

Beau holds out the same black shiny cellphone I found in his office weeks ago. Sam snatches it and leaves the room with a heavy, measured stride, looking for all the world like a mission-fueled man. The door bangs closed behind him.

“Mae, Will, take a seat.” Beau gestures to the high-backed wooden chairs by the wall.

I sit, but the chair is cold and hard, so I can’t get comfortable. It’s impossible to sit still. Hostage, hostage, hostage. My mind is still on repeat. No room for any other thoughts.

“What is it?” I suck my lip in.

Beau looks from me to Will, and his gaze settles on me again. He takes a breath so deep I think his lungs might explode. “Earlier this evening, I received word of a situation.”

I slide from side to side in my chair, my fingers twirling into and around each other. It has to be something to do with us. Will reaches out and puts a hand on my lap.

“Mae, The Collective took your father.”

HOSTAGE. My thought explodes into a million tiny shards. I jump out of the chair, and my hand shoots to my mouth, holding in the noise building in my throat.

“No, no, no. You told me he’d be safe if I stayed away. And Al. Al was keeping an eye on him.”

I’m sinking, being swallowed by water, unable to push myself up. Swallowed again, but now by Will’s arms, strong and protective, wrapping around me. I sob into his shoulder. It can’t be true. Heat spreads across my chest, neck, face, and back.

“How did this happen?” he says over my head as he holds me tight against him.

“I’m not exactly certain. We’ve been keeping a close eye on him, checking in at least once a day. Yesterday was fine, but today the house was empty,” Beau says.

I hear him stop pacing, and he clears his throat. There’s more. He’s stalling. What doesn’t he want to tell us? What’s he hiding?

“What’s that mean?” Will asks.

Extracting myself from Will, I move away, piercing Beau with my gaze. “What else?”

“It didn’t look like there’d been a struggle.”

I shake all over, tiny vibrations rattle on and on. My eyes slide closed, back open, and the room starts to sway. Will’s hands steady my shoulders and lower me back into the chair. There was no struggle. What does that even mean? He said it like it was supposed to make me feel better. I look out the window into the darkness. Everything melds together into one huge, black mass, but I’m not going to let the blackness take me over again. Icy coldness sweeps through me.

“They went inside….” Beau looks at me, opens his mouth to speak, and closes it again. “There’s a note.”

My gaze shoots to his empty hands, then to the table piled with papers. “Where is it? What does it say?”