Authors: Tammy Blackwell
“Well, she had some pretty compelling evidence with the rapidly healing gunshot wound.”
“Ada Jessup… isn’t she like twelve or something?”
Joshua raised his eyes to the ceiling and silently beseeched God to save him from the Donovan family.
“No, she’s not twelve. She’s eighteen.”
“Eighteen?” Scout scrunched her eyebrows together. “I thought she was a lot younger than us. I remember sending her dolls and coloring books when she was in the hospital. I swear to God that was like last year or something.”
He desperately wanted to ask, but he bit it back. Ada would tell him when she was ready.
He didn’t question his absolute conviction she would be ready to tell him someday, and he would be there to hear it when she was. It was best not to examine those thoughts and feelings too deeply. Talley was right. He was leaning too far as it was already.
“That’s right,” Talley said. “Ada was the girl we all sent cards to when we were in middle school. She was like eight or something then.”
The crease between Scout’s eyebrows deepened. “How could that have been ten years ago? Ten years sounds like it should feel like a lot longer.”
“Just wait until you’ve been around half a century or more. Then the years really start zipping by,” Joshua said, unable to even remember where he’d been ten years ago. In many ways, he was very much still a teenage boy. Not only did he look and physically feel young, he felt mentally young, too. He still got excited over stupid stuff like movies and games, his face still flamed red when talking to a pretty girl, and he still had no idea what on earth he was doing. He was pretty sure actual grown-ups had learned to temper their excitement and embarrassment and knew how to work the mechanics of life. But when old people started talking about how quickly the years zipped by, he felt like one of them. Time ceased making sense to him ages ago. He could recall almost anything that had happened in his life in high-definition detail, but he couldn’t place it in time. Did he go skydiving in Dubai ten, twenty, or thirty years ago?
Scout leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. “I know I’ve seen her at church, and she was at the shoot-out at the Cabin-I-Would-Like-To-See-Go-Up-In-Flames Corral, but I can’t remember the last time I talked to her.” She looked at Talley. “I don’t suppose you would mind…” She put two fingers to her temples and did some weird calisthenics with her eyes.
“Already done. She was at The Strip.”
“And…?”
“Good kid. Sad, but good.” Something in Joshua’s chest jerked at the description, but he ignored it. He would not worry about what was making her sad. He wouldn’t. He would not lean further and risk falling. “She’s not going to tell anyone.”
Joshua expected to feel some sort of profound relief at her assessment, but he didn’t. Not because he was still overly burdened with worry Ada would out him, but because he realized the fear hadn’t been there to begin with. He trusted her. As far as he knew, Immortals didn’t have any heightened senses allowing them to know beyond a shadow of a doubt a person’s trustworthiness, but he’d learned over the years to trust his gut. Maybe it was a super-power, or maybe it was just from observing humankind for so many years, but it hadn’t led him wrong yet.
Scout was quiet for several moments as she processed the information.
“How likely is it Ada is going to become a more regular sight around the Alpha Pack?” she asked.
“She’s not—“
“Very likely,” Talley said, cutting him off.
Joshua glared at Talley, which made Scout laugh. “Did you See something, or are you just throwing out an opinion?” she asked her friend.
Talley smirked. “Doesn’t matter. It’s the truth either way.”
“And you trust her?” the Alpha asked, and Talley nodded her agreement. “Sight or opinion?”
“She was a complete open book when I Saw her. Trust me, she’s used to keeping things locked inside, and she’s not one to go around telling what she knows just because she can. If we explain how important discretion is, she’ll keep quiet.”
Scout rubbed the back of her head, a gesture she’d picked up from her mate. “Then you have my permission to tell her everything,” she said to Joshua. “It might be a benefit to have someone from Timber who is on the outside on the inside.”
Joshua tugged on one earlobe to make sure it was still attached and working properly. “And by ‘tell her everything’ you mean…?”
“Everything. Shifters. Seers. Alphas.” She shrugged. “Don’t go into a ton of detail if you can help it. But I would say, whatever Angel knows, Ada can know.”
Even as his brain was throwing out warnings about security concerns, part of him rejoiced at being able to share his world with her. He wanted to see her face when he told her Jase Donovan turned into a coyote under the full moon.
“I’ll talk with Liam,” he suggested, equal parts hoping the Alpha Male would overthrow his mate’s decision and praying he didn’t.
“No need,” Scout said, tapping her forehead. “Used the mate-to-mate network. It was his suggestion.”
Joshua thought Talley might have an opposing opinion, but instead of suggesting Scout reconsider, she smiled at him and said, “Looks like you’re about to lean a little further.”
If given a choice, Ada would have been at home, curled up in her bed, waiting for her life to end. Instead, she’d been ordered by her parents to take her sister to the church youth group gathering at the drive-in. Normally, she would have been excited by the task. The old-timey drive-in was one of her favorite summer hangouts. Not only were the movies cheap and the food amazing, but she felt like she was living in a Buddy Holly song. Even though it was across the lake in another county, it seemed like two-thirds of Timber wound up there on the weekends. Everyone wandered around the lot, gossiping, playing games, and just being happy, summertime people.
Unfortunately, Ada wasn’t in the mood for happy, summertime people. Yesterday hadn’t been so bad. Occasionally, she would forget what happened and pick up her phone to text Marsden only to remember they weren’t together anymore. She was surprised to realize how much of her time was occupied with being Marsden’s girlfriend. More than once she’d almost talked herself into calling him and trying to work it out, but thankfully she never went through with it. Because when Gary Walker got up to the lead the final song in the Sunday morning worship service, she’d had no problem remembering why she didn’t want to reconcile with Marsden.
When she was a kid, one of the local politicians came forward to confess to “leading a life of sin.” Even though he didn’t go into detail, everyone knew what he was talking about because for the past week, the news had been running stories on the hundreds of thousands of dollars he’d embezzled from the residents of Lake County. The soon-to-be-former County Judge Executive stood in front of the congregation, choking back tears as he begged for their forgiveness and promised to walk the straight and the narrow the rest of his days.
Two years later, he was arrested for stealing money from the insurance company where he worked after losing his public office.
In the eighteen years she’d been going to church, the disgraced politician was the only person Ada had seen take God up on that whole public confession thing until Marsden followed through with his threat and walked to the front of the auditorium while the congregation sang “Love Lifted Me.” Like the politician, he spoke with tears thickening his words. Unlike the politician, he laid out his sin in detail, doing everything but calling Ada by name. Instead of the familiar warmth of embarrassment, Ada’s face went cold. She didn’t have a mirror, but she knew she’d gone pale as he talked about being seduced and allowing the devil to lead him into temptation. Unable to face the judgment every eye in the congregation would turn toward her the moment services were over, she snuck out while her father led the church in a prayer for Marsden’s eternal soul. The disappearing act hadn’t pleased her father, which is how she ended up escorting her sister to the drive-in instead of spending the evening hiding in her bedroom like she desperately wanted.
And to make matters worse, it appeared the older members of the youth group had changed their mind and decided to join in on the drive-in fun without letting her know.
“Hey, Lotte,” she said, trying to plaster an everything-is-normal face on. “I thought you guys were going to The Strip tonight.”
The red-haired girl turned around, her cinnamon eyes going huge when she saw Ada. “Oh. Well, we were? But it was crowded? And Quinn wanted to come here?”
Poor Lotte. Even when she wasn’t thrown in the middle of a super-awkward conversation everything she said sounded like a question.
Ada tried to smile, but couldn’t seem to get her mouth to comply. “Hey, Quinn. How is it going?”
Quinn narrowed her eyes and glared at Ada with something startlingly close to pure hatred. Ada hadn’t expected Marsden’s sister to greet her with open arms, but she wasn’t expecting the open hostility coming off of her either. She opened her mouth to say something, but couldn’t think of what that something might be, so she closed it again without saying a word. She really didn’t know what to do in this situation. Lotte, Quinn, and Beth were Ada’s only real friends. If it were any other boy, she would have gone crying on their shoulders the moment everything had crawled in a hand basket and took a trip to warmer climates, but it wasn’t another boy. It was Marsden, and she knew when push came to shove, those three would always choose Marsden over her.
Still, they were her best friends, and she was in desperate need of a friend.
“I’ve got to run and grab Kinsey some dinner, but you guys will still be here when I get back, right?” she asked, feeling all sorts of wrong for having to do so. Any other time, they would have driven in together and stayed attached at the hip the entire night.
Quinn flipped her long braids over her shoulder. “I don’t know where we’ll be,” she said.
“Oh. So, should I just text, or…?”
“You can try, but our phones don’t get a good reception out here in the middle of nowhere.”
It was a lie, of course. They were right next to the interstate, and a cell tower was clearly visible at the top of the hill across the street, but Ada didn’t argue the point. She wasn’t one to hang around where she wasn’t wanted, and it was clear Quinn didn’t want to be anywhere near her.
“Well, I’ll just run into you guys later.” Ada hoped the hurt in her voice wasn’t as obvious to them as it was her own ears.
Later, while she was paying for Kinsey’s hotdog and popcorn, her phone dinged. Thinking it was her friends realizing the error of their ways, she pulled it out and checked the message. It was indeed one of her friends, but instead of the “we’re playing Frisbee up by the screen” message she was expecting, it said, “Sorry, A. I know we were jerks earlier, but Mom says I can’t hang out with you anymore. I’ll be praying for you.”
She wanted to be angry at Beth for not having enough backbone to stand up to her mother and their other friends, but Ada knew if the roles were reversed, she wouldn’t have the nerve to defy her father either.
By the time she got back to the makeshift gypsy camp the younger teens had constructed with blankets and beach towels, she was nowhere near in a good enough mood to put up with the curious stares of her sister’s friends. The only people still treating her like a normal human being were her sister, who had shown a rare moment of sisterly allegiance this morning when she ranted for over an hour about what a douche Marsden was for embarrassing Ada in front of the whole church, and Angel Donovan, who had weathered her fair share of scandal thanks to her siblings. But despite their loyalty, the third time someone whispered the word “slut” loud enough she could hear it, Ada was done.
“I’m going for a walk,” she told her sister. “Text me when you’re ready to leave.”
“Do you want to just go now?” Kinsey asked. “I don’t mind.”
Ada was tempted, but she worried what her father would say if they showed up at home before the movie even started. “No, that’s alright. I’m just tired of sitting. I’ll come back before the first movie is over.”
Angel, who had been watching the exchange with an unfathomable expression on her face, chose that moment to scoot up closer to the group who had started sneezing the word “whore” into their hands before erupting into fits of laughter. Ada felt a pang of betrayal until she heard the tall blonde say, “Hey, Pete. How is that weird rash you had going on last week? Is it still oozing that gross green stuff all the time?”
It was juvenile and mean-spirited, but that didn’t stop Ada from smiling to herself as she walked away from the group, which was now trying to distance itself from poor Pete Hornbreaker.
The good news was Ada didn’t see anyone else she knew as she made her way through the rows of cars. The bad news was there wasn’t really anywhere to go. Since the drive-in wasn’t anything more than an open field with a screen and concession stand, there wasn’t any place she could hide. Sitting in her car was an option, but it was parked in the middle of the kids she’d just escaped, and she would risk a heat stroke by sitting inside with the windows rolled up. In the end, she wound up behind the concession stand, sitting on the ground between two of the employees’ cars.
“Ada?”
The sun was setting behind him, so she couldn’t see anything more than an outline, but even without hearing his voice, Ada knew who was standing by the hood of the car she had been resting her head against. She would know those long, lanky arms and legs anywhere.
“Joshua Smith, are you stalking me?”
“You found me out,” he said, walking forward into the shade of the building so she could see the smile on his face. It was warm and pleasant enough, but something about it seemed off. She couldn’t help but think he wasn’t nearly as happy to see her as she was to see him. “You do realize the movie screen is the other direction, right? You’re going to miss out on the genius that is Tom Cruise is you stay here.”
“What? Are you sure? I thought they were going to project the movie up there.”
An aging mobile home sat behind the tree line marking the back edge of the drive-in.
“I can see where you would be confused,” he said, his smile warming up a few degrees, “but alas, it’s the big, white rectangle out front where the magic happens.” Then the smile faded completely. He was arguing so loudly with himself Ada swore she could see the battle happening in those giant eyes fixed on hers. She wasn’t sure who the victor was when he asked, “Want to come watch it with me?”
Ada wanted to. Desperately. But she wasn’t going to be someone’s charity project. The only thing worse than being somewhere you weren’t wanted was only being asked to come along out of pity.
“I’m good here,” she said. “I have faith in my tiny, far away screen. Just wait. You’ll feel all sorts of sheepish when I’m the only one who actually sees the movie.”
Instead of tossing out a few parting words of fake regret and moving along, Joshua walked further down the path between the two cars. “Then do you mind sharing the view?” he asked, indicating the empty patch of ground beside her. At her nod, he sat with his back against the building with his legs stretched out in front of him. Her feet rested just a few inches below his knee.
“You’ve been crying,” he noted to Ada’s extreme embarrassment.
“I was thinking about those Sarah McLachlan animal abuse commercials. They get me every single time.”
Joshua was gracious enough to chuckle, but he refused to be dissuaded. “Hard day?”
“You don’t know?” Joshua raised his eyebrows in question, which made it Ada’s turn to chuckle. “You’re like the most uninformed person in all of Timber. I really like that about you.”
“Want to talk about it?”
Crazily enough, she did. Something told her this boy who would live forever might actually understand. No matter how loudly part of her was screaming about how she didn’t want Joshua to think of her as a whore too, she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out.
“I had sex with my boyfriend earlier this week.”
Joshua hid his shock quickly, but not so quickly Ada didn’t see it.
“It was that bad, huh?” he asked in what he probably thought was a casual voice.
“No.” After a brief reconsideration she said, “Well, yeah. It was pretty bad. I think. It’s not exactly like I’m an expert.” She was rambling. “But the sex itself wasn’t the problem. The problem was Marsden’s overwhelming guilt and need to cleanse himself of the sin not just in front of God, but the entire four hundred member congregation at my church this morning. So now my very private moment is the hottest gossip item in a fifty mile radius, random kids are calling me a slut, and my friends have completely abandoned me in favor of more Christianly company.”
She hadn’t thought it was possible for Joshua’s eyes to get any bigger, but they did. “Why on earth would he do that?”
“He thought God wanted him to.”
“I don’t think God would want one of his children humiliated.”
“And I don’t think God exists, so the whole argument is pretty much moot with me.” Her face stung from the speed with which her hand collided with her mouth. “I’ve never said that out loud before,” she said, her words muffled by the hand still pressed against her lips.
A small smile tilted the corners of Joshua’s mouth. “Well, I guess that puts us about even, since I’ve told you some stuff I’ve never told another fully-human human before.”
She had to laugh at that. What was a little heresy when compared to immortality?
His face grew serious again as he looked out over the cars filling the lot. Like every other weekend night, the place was packed to capacity, cars parked anywhere they could find a spot, not caring that every space with a speaker was occupied.
“I feel like going out there and teaching all those idiots a lesson at the tip of my sword,” he said from between clenched teeth. For the first time, she noticed how his eyes were really committed to being brown, not mixing in some green and blue to muck everything up like hers. They were the smooth, warm color of hot chocolate.
“And what lesson exactly are you and your pointy sword teaching people?”
Joshua reached up and brushed away a tear she hadn’t known was hiding in the corner of her eye. “That they’re fools for making you cry.”
Even though his thumb was gone, she could still feel the memory of it on her skin. It was the spot burning warmer than the humid night and seemed directly connected to her heart, which was now thumping around like an Elvis song on crack.