Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) (37 page)

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Authors: Abigail Boyd

Tags: #ghosts, #Young Adult

BOOK: Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series)
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CHAPTER 31

WHEN THE POLICE
arrived, vests on and guns drawn, Hugh was trailing behind them with Stauner. I was far too used to the protocol by now—the ride to the station, the questioning, the feeling that I was a suspect when I hadn’t done anything wrong.

As he drove me home, I tried to get him to explain why he’d left and where he’d taken Stauner. He was more concerned that I’d disobey him and left the house.

“I wasn’t going to stay by myself when so much important stuff was going down. I’m a part of it, whether you like it or not. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“Believe me, I know that,” Hugh said, his tone bordering on defensive. “But that doesn’t mean you should go charging into danger.”

“What’s the danger? How do you know about it?”

“We went to the house to find the necklace. We couldn’t find it there. Then we went to Thornhill, but they wouldn’t even let us past the door. I don’t think they have the necklace, though, or they would have acted less upset.”

“How did you know that Thornhill wanted the necklace?” My mind was dizzily spinning. So, my dad knew about Thornhill’s true intentions?

He still wouldn’t answer me, biting his lips to sores.

“Why are you being so cryptic?” I asked. His dodging act was making me furious.

“To protect you,” Hugh said. That was all the answer I could get out of him for the moment.

###

As soon as I could, I had Hugh race me up to the hospital where Henry was a patient. Hugh didn’t want to let me out of his sight. He went inside with me as I went directly to the check-in counter.

“My name is Ariel Donovan and I want to check on the status of a patient.”

The bored nurse behind the counter stared at her computer screen. “What’s the name?”

“Henry Rhodes.”

She clicked on her keyboard for a minute and then stared again. Her face settled into a frown upon studying the results.

“I’m sorry, he’s not taking visitors.” It was the first time she looked at me, and it was a nasty glare.

“Okay, can you at least give me an update on his condition? I mean, is he okay?” I asked, irritated.

She shook her head and I could tell that there was something in the file banning me.

“Let’s go, Ariel. Maybe we can call and check on his condition later,” Hugh said softly. He wrapped his hand around my arm and started trying to tug me away. But I wasn’t about to be dissuaded. I raced around the check-in desk, and jogged further down the hall. A security guard stepped out in front of me.

“Ma’am, are you a patient?” he asked.

“No.”

“Do you have a relative in the hospital?”

“She’s not supposed to be here,” the woman from the desk spoke up, standing up from her seat. Anger surged through me and I wanted to push past the security guard.

Hugh grasped my shoulders, holding me firmly. “Ariel, we need to go.”

“This isn’t fair,” I said, tears stinging my eyes. I wrenched away from Hugh but he held me firm.

“Of course it’s not,” Hugh said, anger and frustration lacing his own voice. “But nothing about Thornhill is fair.”

He wrenched me away and we started walking out of the hospital, past gawking people in the waiting area.

“What if he’s not doing well?” I asked Hugh. “McPherson stabbed him. He could be dying….”

“I’ll call as soon as we get home,” Hugh told me. “If it was that bad, we would see some sign. All of the Thornhill people would be up here.”

Back at home, I could barely sit still. Henry didn’t respond to my texts, so I assume they’d taken his phone away. True to his word, Hugh called the instant that we’d settled back at the apartment. When he got off the phone, he addressed me.

“The nurse said he just got out of surgery and his prognosis is good,” Hugh said.

I breathed out a relieved sigh, unclasping my tight hands. “How did you get them to talk to you?”

“I faked like I was a family member,” Hugh said, shrugging like he pulled off that kind of espionage every day. “I think they’re in the middle of a shift change; she didn’t give me too much grief.”

“So, are you going to tell me anything now?” I quizzed him now that the major part of my worry had subsided for the time being.

He went into the kitchen and took out a beer from the crisper drawer. I didn’t know he kept any in there. After a swift gulp of the liquid, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Go get some sleep. I have a feeling that our difficulty isn’t over yet. Just let me straighten out a few things, and then I’ll tell you. It might be a week, but I’ll reveal everything.”

They were cryptic words, and it drove me nuts that he had answers he wasn’t willing to share with me. But I also didn’t want to push him away. I did as he said.

###

Henry finally got the opportunity to text me two days later.

I got my phone back. How are you holding up? I miss you

I immediately stopped what I was doing to write him back.
How am *I* doing? I’m not the one who was wounded, how are you? How did you get them to give you your phone back?

I’m persuasive, dear.
I could almost see him laughing in my head, lifting and dropping his eyebrows. I missed him desperately and just wished I could see and touch him to confirm that he was okay.
Actually they never took my phone, it was in my pants and I didn’t want to ask for it and remind them to confiscate it. And I’m doing fine, doc says I’ll make a full recovery. Pain meds are glorious things when you’ve been stabbed, Don’t feel much.

When can I see you?

Soon, hopefully. Dad has me under lock and key right now, though.

The night passed with us messaging each other. Hugh was hovering by in the kitchen, still keeping his secrets to himself. We went off to the gallery to shut it up for the holiday week. Christmas was two days away. It felt like December had lasted a year.

Hugh and I went back home, and I felt annoyed at having to follow him around the whole time. He went into his room and finally passed out a little bit later. I peeked around the corner and heard him sawing big logs. I couldn’t sleep myself, flipping through the TV and finding nothing of interest.

There was a knock on the door. I was wary and almost didn’t answer it. The knock came again. I forced myself up off of the couch.

Hugh was sprawled out across his bed, snoring. I shook his shoulder, but he was too deeply asleep. Paranoid, I grabbed a small paring knife out of the sink in the kitchen.

The wreath that Hugh had put up obscured the view through the peep hole. “Who is it?” I asked.

“Henry. Open up.”

I slid the paring knife into my boot and I eagerly pulled the chain lock.

Roger, Cheryl Rhodes’ assistant, stood on the welcome mat. He was wearing a suit and a scowl. His eyes were trained on me like lasers immediately.

“Hi. I’m here to deliver you to Phillip,” he said with flat, generic cheer. I instantly admonished myself inside my head; I was tired and I hadn’t thought rationally.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” I said, trying to slam the door. But he shot out his foot, preventing me from closing it. I cracked the door again, opening my mouth to scream at Hugh. That’s when I saw that Roger was holding a gun discreetly at his waist, pointed at me.

“Where’s Henry?”

“Banging some other girl, for all I know,” Roger said. Definitely the Grim Reaper. “Come with me. We need to go. Phillip is an impatient man.”

Phillip Rhodes’ Lexus was waiting for us down in the lot. Roger opened the door to the backseat and practically shoved me in. I sat in the center, buckling the belt. I’d left my phone on the coffee table in my haste to answer the door. My father would notice I was gone, but he’d had a little to drink before he fell asleep and it would be morning before he woke up. Plenty of time for Thornhill to kill me and bury me in an unmarked grave. I felt the paring knife in my boot.

My heart had sped up like the blades of a fan. Roger drove purposefully through the streets, eyes trained on the road. Snow was coming down again in large, delicate puffs. He wore thick brown leather gloves, like he didn’t want to leave fingerprints. Fear was choking me. I wanted to say something, wanted to ask him what fate they had in store for me. But my tongue was dry and worthless.

Roger hit the breaks abruptly and shut off the car. Through the fogged-up windshield, I could see a row of three cars. Roger got out and opened my door, and I stepped out into the heavy snow.

Phillip was staring up at the sky. On either side of him, dressed in heavy coats, were Cliff Ford and Dr. Briggs. I worried for a second that I was a body about to be dumped. But I had no choice; Roger had his gun pressed into the small of my back.

The snow flew into my face and stuck to my eyelashes and hair, but I forced myself to step right up to Phillip and make eye contact with him.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Phillip said. “You know about Dexter and you know about Thornhill. Fair enough. But I hope you also know about how easily I could crush you.” He smashed his fists together.

“How did you find out that Henry and I are dating? And how long have you known?” I asked out of morbid curiosity. I had the man here, I might as well ask him all the questions I could think of.

“Roger has more than fulfilled his job duties,” Phillip said.

From behind me, Roger said, “It was my pleasure. Not even difficult; teenagers always keep their secrets in the open, no matter how clever they perceive themselves.”

“I—” I started, but Phillip shot up one hand.

“Hush. No blood’s going to be spilled today. There is no reason for you to fear us.”

“I saw that there was a symbol beneath Charlotte. He was talking about some kind of ritual,” I said.

“The symbol that McPherson killed Charlotte on didn’t work,” Phillip said smoothly. “The copper spiral inside of the cement was broken. It’s never going to work. But I’ve figured out other ways to improve our status. Like I said, there is no need to fear us. I brought you here today to offer a pact.”

“You’re bluffing. What about the symbol beneath the orphanage?”

“I don’t know where you’re getting your information,” Phillip said smoothly. “There is no symbol beneath the orphanage. There are only three. Dexter is only important because of its history.”

“Why would I want to make a pact with a liar?” I asked through gritted teeth that I had to force not to chatter. “You’ll never keep it.”

“Oh, I’ll keep the pact. Why don’t you hear it first, before you make assumptions? What I’m offering is as follows… you get out of town. You take your big ideas and your loud mouth, and you get out of city limits and never come back.”

“I want born and raised in this town,” I said angrily.

“I’m aware of that. But we were here first. I don’t want anyone with Sight in this town. And I don’t want you anywhere near Henry.”

“Why, do I threaten you?” I had been expecting him to make that a part of his ultimatum..

I sensed some emotion on his face, but the cold obscured it. Cliff Ford took a menacing step towards me, and I felt Roger’s gun jab harder into my back.

“Nothing threatens me but the black abyss of annihilation, little girl. You are not anything special,” Phillip said.

“Fine. I’ll leave. As long as you give me your word that the symbol is broken, that you won’t try to fix it.” I had to tell him what he wanted to hear. I just kept repeating it to myself in my head.

“Agreed,” he said, appraising me. “But on one stipulation. That your father goes with you.”

“My father?” I asked, puzzled. I would think it would be my mother he’d want out of town.

“But then what do you get?”

“We get control of this town. Just as it is. That is enough.”

With that, I was safe. The men got into their cars. As Roger drove back to Hugh’s apartment, I sunk into the backseat, feeling like I had sold my soul.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER 32

MY NIGHT WASN’T
over. I already felt like passing out from exhaustion. Hugh was still asleep, and I made myself a cup of hot cocoa and sat on the sofa next to the bags of new Christmas decorations he’d bought for my benefit. The fake tree in the corner looked like a project I didn’t want to tackle.

My ringtone went off, making my phone jump all over the counter. I picked it up and was surprised to see the number of our old house phone.

“Hello?” I asked timidly. I hadn’t spoken to my mother since the car accident.

I didn’t recognize her voice. It was high and loopy, shaking like an ancient woman’s. “The sky is so much darker now. Getting darker. I need a rope.”

“Claire? Is that you?”

“Suffer the little lamb. That’s what he told me. You’d better come back.”

The phone went dead. I rushed into my coat. I had no time to get anyone else, something was wrong. She had called from the house phone, so I raced back there.

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