Hourglass (15 page)

Chapter 31

I
couldn’t get in touch with Michael—his cell phone kept bouncing straight to voice mail. I drove like a maniac to Murphy’s Law, parking illegally at the curb. The pickup line for orders snaked almost to the front door. Lily threw me an apron as I walked behind the counter and then did a double take.

“Wow,” she said, giving me the once-over. “Okay. Wow. What are you going for with this look? Are you headed for a Playboy Bunny convention? Because whatever you’re doing, I can guess it’s not making coffee.”

“I’m throwing my hat in the ring, staking a claim, making my intentions known. It’s kind of like … a dog peeing on a fire hydrant.”

“I could’ve done without that visual.” She assessed my outfit as I tied on the apron. “Why do you feel the need to put all your goodies on the front line for a man?”

“It’s more for the competition,” I answered, twisting my hair up and sticking a pencil in it to keep it out of my way.

Lily shook her head and added a shot of espresso to a latte.

I threw up my hands. “What? Do I look that bad?”

“No, you look that good,” she said, spooning foam into a mug. “I just want your self-respect to be intact when all this is over. I assume Michael is your fire hydrant?”

“Yes.” I picked up the order pad to see what was next and then poured milk into a metal cup before attaching it to a steamer. “I’m sorry for bailing on you yesterday,” I said over the hissing noise. “You’ve been here two mornings in a row, haven’t you?”

“No worries. Vanilla latte?” she called out to the crowd before turning back to start the next drink. “Just help me get through these orders, and I’ll forgive you.”

We worked in silence for a few minutes until the crowd dissipated. Lily picked up a glass of ice water and downed half of it before asking, “Where are you headed?”

“I don’t know exactly. There are a couple of places I think he might be. Or he could be someplace else altogether. That’s why I came to talk to you.” I was done with secrets. My best friend needed to come clean. Even if it meant I had to do the same. “I wanted to ask you to help me.”

“Help you?” she asked, crunching down on a piece of ice and narrowing her eyes.

“Help me … find him.” I wouldn’t chicken out. I wanted everything out in the open. “The
way you find
things.”

Lily choked on her ice before seizing my arm and dragging me toward the back office. She yanked me into the room and slammed the door behind us.

“What the hell, Lily?” I rubbed my arm where she’d grabbed it.

“How do you know?” Lily’s breath came out unevenly.

“I don’t know anything specific,” I confessed. “I just had an idea.”

“I’ve tried so hard to keep it a secret.” She stared at me with wide eyes. “When you asked me my opinion about the supernatural the other day, I got the feeling you were on to me.”

“Actually, I asked you the question about the supernatural stuff because of
me
.” I opened the door, sticking my head out to check the shop for customers. Only a couple of people sat in the orange chairs by the front window. I pulled my head back in and shut the door.

Lily sat down on the edge of the desk. “Please don’t tell me you’re a vampire. Vampires are so overdone.”

“I swear on every coffee bean in the universe that I’m not a vampire,” I promised her, laughing. “But … I can … sort of … see people from the past. Talk to them.”

“Is that what you saw that day in the cafeteria? A ghost?”

“Yes, but it’s a little more complicated than that.” I smacked my forehead with my hand when I realized I’d just given her Michael’s standard answer to me. “It would take a while to explain, and I’m kind of in a hurry. But am I right? About you?”

“Em, there’s so much tied up in what I can do—what I promised my
abuela
I would
never
do. It’s not dowsing. It’s not like I use a divining rod, or even a pendulum, even though I wear this one.” She fingered the tiger’s eye pendant that always hung from a silver chain around her neck. I thought she wore it because it matched her eyes. “The short answer is, yes, I can find things.”

“Why is it such a secret?”

“I don’t know all the reasons.” Lily’s mouth turned down at the corners. “But Abuela has very strict rules about what I can actively look for. Inconsequential things, like my keys or a recipe she’s misplaced, occassionally. But a living, breathing human? Never.”

“But the other day—you knew she was back from the bank before you saw her.”

“I knew the bank bag was back. And I knew Abi had the bank bag. I’ve developed loopholes over the years.”

“Have you ever talked to anyone about it?” I thought of the Hourglass. “Like a professional?”

“A professional
what
? Abi would kill me if she knew I told you.” She inclined her head toward the front door. “I’m sorry I can’t help you find Michael. I know you’re in a hurry. Go.”

“I’m not if you want to talk—”

She shook her head. “Let me think about everything. Figure out what’s okay to share and what isn’t. Figure out what I want to ask you.”

“I’m glad you told me. After everything I’ve been through, everything you’ve seen … you’re still here. I’m here for you, too.”

Lily reached out to grab my arm and pulled me into a hug. “I should’ve told you earlier. You might not have felt so alone.”

“No. I understand why you couldn’t.” I hugged her back. “Thanks for trusting me. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“Ditto.”

We broke the embrace and looked at each other for a long time before I turned to leave. “

“Em? Wait.”

“What?”

She held out her hand, her signature moxie back. “The apron doesn’t go with the outfit.”

Chapter 32

I
figured I’d start at the Renegade House. It was almost too easy. His car sat out front. He’d had access to a phone yet failed to call me.

Payback time.

Taking a quick glance in the rearview mirror, I yanked the pencil out of my hair and shook it out. I got out of the car and marched toward the porch. Before my heel hit the top step the door flew open.

“Why is it
impossible
for you to do what anyone asks you to do?” Michael wore the same clothes he’d had on the last time I saw him. They were wrinkled, as if he slept in them—except he didn’t look like he’d done any sleeping. His eyes were bloodshot, his chin stubbly. I wondered briefly how it would feel against my face if he kissed me.

Then I remembered I was mad.

“Why is it impossible for
you
to call someone when you’re supposed to?” I reached up with both hands and gave him a good shove to the chest, feeling a jolt of electricity that ran all the way to my toes. “My brother practically handcuffed me to the furniture. I spent all night worried, wondering what was going on.”

“Easy. I need you to stop yelling.” He rubbed his eyes with his fists. “It’s been a long night. I apologize for not calling, but it took us forever to find Kaleb.”

“Us?” I asked, my voice thick with jealousy.

“Us. Me, Dune, Ava, and Nate.” He leaned back, propping one foot against the side of the house. “We had to split up and take it place by place. He went barhopping in downtown Nashville. Luckily, he didn’t drive.”

“Is he even old enough to get into a bar?”

“He’s almost eighteen, but not quite. Fake ID. He uses it to do lots of things he shouldn’t. It’s easy to tell when Kaleb is hell-bent on destruction. A friend called here, and Ava answered. She couldn’t get me on my cell, so she had to come to the loft.”

Had to, my rear end.

“Come inside.” Michael pushed himself away from the wall and gestured to the screen door before pulling it open. “But I’m warning you ahead of time: it’s not very pretty. Kaleb is my best friend. I hope you don’t judge him on what you’re about to see.”

He held the door for me, and I followed him into the living area. The smell hit me first. Part brewery, part gas-station bathroom.

“Whoa.”

Even though the room was dim, from the doorway I could see one foot hanging over the arm of the couch. A big foot, the ankle attached encircled by a tattoo resembling barbed wire. I walked quietly around it to take in a sprawled-out, snoring figure.

One huge bicep featured a tattoo of a dragon’s head; the other bicep, a forked tail. Taller and broader than Michael, Kaleb had the most defined abs I’d ever seen. The flannel blanket wrapped around his waist would’ve been a perfect size for me; on him it looked like a hand towel.

“Why isn’t he wearing clothes?” I whispered the words to Michael.

He grimaced and whispered back. “You don’t want to know.”

I wrinkled my nose and started breathing through my mouth. Taking a step closer, I noticed Kaleb’s face, probably beautiful when he wasn’t hung over. His black hair was cut short, and he had a small hoop earring in each ear, kind of … sexy pirate. I jumped back when he groaned and opened one violet-blue eye.

Kaleb struggled to focus. The circles underneath his eyes were deep, or it could’ve been the shadow of his black eyelashes. “Am I dead? Are you an angel? Damn. You’re smokin’ hot for an angel. Come ’ere,” he slurred.

Not hungover.

Still drunk.

I hurried to stand behind Michael when Kaleb reached out for me. More like swiped at me with a hand the size of a frying pan. He was scary big, mostly naked, and reminiscent of an escaped convict.

“Hey, Mike. I did it again.” Kaleb grinned, and his face lit up. I could see how, clothed and sober, he could possibly be endearing. Right now … not really.

“Yes, Kaleb, you did it again,” Michael said, sounding very much like a tolerant but exasperated kindergarten teacher.

“Who came to get me? I know she wasn’t there.” He pointed to me and smiled wider. “I would have remembered her.”

“I did,” Michael said. “So did Nate and Ava.”

Kaleb put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. I tried not to stare at his chest. “Ava? Why did you have to bring the Shining?”

“The Shining?” I asked.

“Stephen King reference,” Michael said to me. To Kaleb, he said, “Because Ava’s the one who answered the phone. She came to get me.”

“Came to get you?” Kaleb frowned and opened his eyes to squint at us. “Where were you?”

Michael pulled me forward to stand beside him. “With the angel. This is Emerson.”

Kaleb sat up quickly, turning three shades of green before grasping the blanket tightly around his waist, leaping up from the couch, and making a run for the door.

I looked up at Michael. “Okay.”

We walked up the stairs as I tried to ignore the sound of retching coming from the downstairs bathroom, glad I’d skipped breakfast. “Great first impression.”

“He’s really not that bad.” Michael’s blinds were open and sunshine filled his room. “That’s not true. He’s worse than this sometimes.”

“I meant me, not him. You told him my name, and he ran to the bathroom to throw up. You don’t have to explain his behavior. Who am I to judge?”

“In the past six months I’ve watched him go from nice guy to hard-ass.” Michael sat down in his desk chair and put his head in his hands. “It was bad enough when Liam died, but then his mom …”

“Got sick,” I supplied.

“It was more than that.” He hesitated before raising his head. “After Liam died, she … tried to kill herself.”

I swallowed. Really hard. “Wow.”

“Luckily, she didn’t succeed. Grace has been in a coma ever since. For a while she had private nurses around the clock. Landers allowed her to stay at the Hourglass house.”

“That’s why Kaleb stayed,” I said, finally understanding why he would remain in the same house with the man he suspected of killing his father. “To watch out for his mom.”

“Right.” Michael’s face was troubled. “But her doctor suggested a long-term care facility. She’s being moved today.”

“That sucks.” I knew way too much about long-term care facilities. I wondered if Kaleb did. If he knew what he’d have to deal with when he visited.

“That sucks,” he agreed. “Kaleb used to be so different, so focused. He was a champion swimmer. The pool you saw at the Hourglass was put in for him.”

That explained the swimmer’s body, especially the shoulders. And the six-pack.

Eight-pack.

My edit button worked for once, and I kept my mouth shut. I pulled myself up to sit on the desk, the square edge scraping against my jeans. “You never told me what his ability is. Can you?” “I might as well,” he said, settling back in his chair. “He won’t. Do you know what an empath is?”

“I know what empathy is.”

Michael picked up a pencil and tapped the eraser end rhythmically on his desk. “There’s a difference. An empath is supernaturally in tune with other people, sometimes whether he wants to be or not. Empaths aren’t held by time or space, so they can feel the emotions of anyone, anywhere, in any time. But Kaleb mostly feels the emotions of people he would otherwise connect with in some way. He can read me because he’s like my brother.”

“Why did he call Ava ‘the Shining’?”

“Have you read the book?”

“No, but I’ve read about it, and the movie.” I avoided horror, especially horror that involved ghosts and psychopaths. I was exceedingly grateful for the Internet, the easily accessible plot synopsis, and the fact that it allowed me to consume popular culture in an informed but distanced way. “Ava doesn’t keep an ax in her room or write on doors with lipstick, does she?”

He gave me a look. “Kaleb has a thing about nicknames. He claims Ava’s mind is just as fractured as the dad in the book, and that she’s just as resentful of authority. She tends to do whatever she wants to do whenever she wants to do it.”

“Are all Kaleb’s nicknames that involved?”

“No. He just really has a problem with Ava. Maybe because of the way she is around me.”

“Um … Kaleb’s going to stop blowing groceries anytime now, so maybe we should talk about him while he’s not in the room?” I suggested. I didn’t want to discuss the competition.

“True.” He dropped the pencil on top of his desk. “I think the reason he’s so tough on the outside is because he’s so open on the inside. Everything about him—the way he looks, the way he dresses—is intentional. He tries to keep his distance from people because if he can he doesn’t have to feel what they feel. What happened to his dad was bad enough. Dealing with his mom’s breakdown almost killed him.”

“Is he able to feel her emotions now?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Not since the suicide attempt. He blames himself, says he never saw it coming.”

My heart broke for Kaleb. His father might be dead, but his mother was alive, and he couldn’t reach her. At least he didn’t have to be inside his mom’s crazy. Seeing it from the outside had to be hard enough.

“Part of his problem is that he can’t always identify why people feel the way they do. He can misread emotions—think they’re directed at him and then find out they were toward someone else,” Michael said, rolling the pencil between his palm and the desk. “He told me once the reason he loves to swim is because emotions don’t pass through water. It’s one place he can escape.”

I’d want a pool in my backyard, too. “Why did he freak out when you introduced us? I thought he knew about me.”

“He did. The fact that you’re here with me confirms you’re on board to save Liam.”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Michael held a finger up to his lips. Kaleb walked through the open doorway, shielding his eyes from the sun coming in the window.

“You look better,” Michael said, standing to close the blinds.

A lot better. He’d showered and put on clean clothes. The improvement in smell alone was stellar. He looked back and forth between the two of us, his gaze lingering on me.

It made me feel warm.

“Sorry about downstairs. I’m not exactly in my right mind. Which I don’t understand,” he said, looking back at Michael, “because I swear I only drank two beers.”

Michael raised his eyebrows, saying nothing, and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Swear,” Kaleb insisted in his deep, rough voice. “Do you remember … um, who I was with when you found me?”

“Tall girl, dark hair, crazy eyes. She didn’t seem to want to let you leave.”

“Amy. No, Ainsley.”

“New girlfriend?” Michael asked.

“No.” Kaleb’s gaze slid over to me.

“Random hookup?”

“Mike. A lady is present.”

“She might as well get to know the real you.” Michael shrugged.

“I don’t appreciate what that implies,” Kaleb said through gritted teeth.

“You’ll get over it.” Michael reached out to grab me by my sleeve and pulled me over to the bed to sit beside him. He pointed to the empty desk chair, then back to Kaleb. “Sit.”

Kaleb sat.

But he wasn’t happy about it.

I watched as his face transformed from the wide smile into something fierce and closed off. His eyes were even more beautiful up close, lending some delicacy to his face, but he still wasn’t a guy I’d want to meet in a dark alley. Michael said Kaleb was a hard-ass, but I didn’t think that began to cover it.

He was just plain scary.

“Nothing to worry about, Mike.” Kaleb tried to play the disagreement off, but his voice remained tight. “No harm, no foul. No strings.”

“I know.” Michael stood, his tone challenging. I wanted to cover his mouth with my hands. Something told me I didn’t want to be within a ten-mile radius if they started fighting. “It’s like all your relationships. Hit-and-run.”

“Watch it.” Kaleb’s gaze darted in my direction again as he stood and took a step toward Michael. “I don’t need a big brother or a babysitter.”

“You did last night.”

Jumping between them was as smart as jumping into the middle of a cage match, but I did it anyway, putting a hand on each of their chests. Even in the heat of the moment I had to appreciate the muscle tone of both.

“Stop!” My voice broke, so I tried again. “
Stop!
I know you don’t really want to do this, either one of you. Quit acting like babies.”

It had been my experience that accusing a boy of being a baby was as effective as throwing a bucket of water on the Wicked Witch of the West. Just as she did after the Scarecrow took aim, the tension melted. Michael sat back down, and Kaleb dropped into the desk chair. Placing one arm on the seat back, Kaleb eyed me. “Hey, bro, do you think you can put Shorty back on her chain?”

I stepped forward with my hands on my hips, only slightly intimidated to find Kaleb almost eye level with me when he was seated and I was standing.

“First of all, no one is the boss of me but me. Secondly, if you ever reference my ‘chain’ again, I will kick your ass.” I jabbed him hard in the chest with my finger. Possibly breaking it. “And thirdly, don’t call me Shorty.”

Kaleb sat silently for a second, his eyes wide as he looked at Michael. “Where did you find her? Can you get me one?”

I blew out a loud, frustrated sigh and dropped down beside Michael, who didn’t even try to hide his smile. “You should probably apologize to Emerson.”

“I am sorry.” Kaleb grinned at me. “Sorry I didn’t meet you first.”