Persona (40 page)

It’s a hard intrusive knock, and she can almost sense one of her friends on the other side of it. She doesn’t bother to get up to answer it though, and instead chooses to ignore it and not let anything get in the way of her self-pity. But the person on the other side of the door doesn’t go away; they knock even harder than the first time. The pounding shakes the door, and Moira lets out a sigh rolling on to her back. She can’t help feeling slightly annoyed, and just when she is already expecting another knock to quickly follow the last – it never comes.

Relieved, that whoever it was took her hint and went away, Moira curls onto her side in attempt to reenact her previous fetal position. However, before she can even come close to wallowing again, her door pushes open and lets in the intruder. Glancing up from her borrowed pillow, Raven breaks the threshold of the doorway all the while glaring at her.

“I don’t remember saying you could come in.” Moira says as she flops her head back onto the soft pillow and shutting her eyes.

As she is closing the door behind her, Raven snorts out a snicker of laughter.

“I didn’t ask.”

***

Moira clenches her eyes shut refusing to look at the other girl, as she feels her walk further into the room and reach the side of the bed closest to her. Moira waits for some admonishing from her friend, but after a moment of silence, it doesn’t come. Knowing she isn’t going to have the chance to wallow right now, she decides it’s probably best to face whatever Raven came into her room for. Opening her eyes, and rolling onto her back once more, it’s not surprising when Ravens eyes follow her movements.

Even when she gets into a sitting position against the headboard.

“What is it Raven?”

Raven doesn’t say anything again and instead she just gives her a cold glaring stare. Her posture is stiff and her arms are crossed tightly against her chest. Moira has half a thought that maybe there is something else going on, other than her own miserable drama. Then Raven’s face softens slightly and that’s when she sees it; the pity.

“I know what you’re planning.”

“Oh do you?” Moira asks.

“Yes. You’re thinking about just giving up. And that staying in here for the rest of your life is the best idea you’ve ever had.”

Not saying anything back, instead Moira shifts her eyes up at the canopy above her and tries to hide the fact that she was about to give up. The dark wood is surprisingly beautiful, and there are intricate patterns across the entire base. She can’t tell what they are, but they are nice enough for her to be lost in the design. Not lost enough though, so she knows she can’t ignore Raven forever. Especially since she can feel the other girl’s eyes still boring into her.

“Why do you sound like you’ve felt like this before?” Moira asks as she glances back at her friend.

Raven visibly tenses, almost like she is trying to hide within herself. Her pearly white skin becomes slightly paler, making her jade black hair appear darker than it is as it hangs over her shoulders. Letting out a great sigh, she steps closer to the bed and slowly sits down on the edge of it. Her shoulders are hunched, and Moira gets the impression that she is struggling to hold back a bigger emotion. Never seeing her like this, Moira’s interest is peeked.

“Probably because I have. It might surprise you, but I haven’t always been this perfect hot girl I am today.”

Raven’s voice has a light edge to it, like she is trying to disregard how upset she is. If it wasn’t so unusually soft, Moira just might let the comment slide. But the two of them have been through a lot together, and it wouldn’t be right to just ignore her obvious pain.

“What changed?” Moira asks just as softly.

Raven doesn’t say anything for a moment, and Moira is about to reach for her, when she finally glances at her. Moira drops her reaching hand, when she finds that Raven’s eyes are black orbs now, as she is being pulled by her persona. Now she knows, whatever it is, it’s not going to be a light fluffy tale.

“You know that I live with my aunt, but you don’t know why.

Raven closes her eyes and takes deep even breathes, before finishing.

“My mom was never like us, but my dad was. She passed away when I was born, and he was arrested for her murder.”

Moira gasps out loud now, causing Raven’s eyes to snap open. What she sees is terror floating in those deep dark depths and with good reason.

“Oh my God, Raven! How-” Moira says in a rush, while sitting straight up, all thoughts of wallowing in the bed fading.

“He didn’t really kill her you see, it was my birth. But you know the laws, no intermarrying and such. So he was pinned with intentional infection, like he planned that I would kill her or something.”

“He’s not in a prison is he?” Moira asks so softly, already knowing the answer. Why else would Raven be so desolate.

“No. It was decided early on, that he get the death penalty. I was my aunt’s daughter, from the very first day I was born.”

Two drops of tears fall out of her friends eyes and roll in a slow decent down her ghostly cheeks. She crosses her arms and covers her middle so tightly, like she is trying to hold in something that wants to get free. Moira can feel her own puffy eyes fill with fresh tears.

“Raven, I…” Moira starts, but Raven quickly interrupts her with a shake of her head.

“I know it’s not the same, and it’s been such a long time for me. But, I know how it feels to have things happen that is out of your control. It took me a while to not feel responsible for both of my parent’s deaths. The only thing any of us can do is to keep trekking forward.”

Glancing away, Raven swipes the tears that are coating her cheeks and stares at the bedroom door like it is the most fascinating thing. Sighing, Moira scoots closer to her and places a gentle hand on her shoulder. This makes Raven flick her eyes to Moira, but she glances away before they gaze can hold.

“I’m glad you shared with me, and Raven…..I’m so sorry about your parents. I know your right, but I think I might need some time before I can get passed what’s rushing in my head.”

Raven sits up straighter now, causing Moira’s hand to fall away from her shoulder. The other girl faces her now and puts on a show of giving a bright smile, even though Moira is positive she isn’t happy.

“You don’t have to be sorry, sometimes these things happen. I love my aunt, and wouldn’t replace her for the world. And I know you’ll need time, but you’ll get their; losing the guilt.”

Before Moira can say anything at all, she is being pulled into Raven’s arms. They cling to one another; mourning for a normal simple life that they know will never be something they can have. Moira finds it a comfort that she isn’t alone in her bizarre misery, even though she hates it at the same time what Raven has been through. As fast as she went in for the hug, Raven pulls back with a real smile.

“Come on babe, you can’t stay cooped up all day. Everyone is waiting for you to eat with us.” Raven tells her patiently.

Sighing, she realizes that Raven is right, she can’t hide out. The days for staying hidden and having to be protected like a fragile thing, is no more. She is anything but fragile, and she feels a rage at herself for even wanting to cower in self-pity. Especially since Marty can’t be saved if she hides out like a hermit. And that is what she wants to do, save the boy that came after her even though she betrayed him. She vows to get him back, no matter what. Swiftly turning and dropping her legs over the side of the bed, Moira nods at Raven. Who offers her a confident smile, and it’s one for sure that makes Moira feel confident in herself as well. It nice to have a plan now, even a half-baked one. At least it’ll have time to simmer while she works on it; might as well put some good use in her new and improved persona.

***

Pacing the length of his father’s study, Liam has to wonder why he is even waiting for the man to come in. It’s not like he didn’t already explain everything that went down the last couple of weeks the night before. Hell, he went into the best detail that even is in explaining; so really, what’s left? His father is a perfectionist, he knows, so it should be a surprise that the man wants another run down.

He should be used to it by now; it’s something that he and his father have been doing for years when he would come home back from pack business. He is unnaturally nervous for reasons he can’t explain though. It could be that he has to recap everything that happened again to him, and still nothing changes in Liam’s story; no matter how repetitive there interactions are.

It’s nice to see that his father’s sacred space hasn’t changed while he was away; in that it is the size of a small living room, and has a much lived in feeling, like he is there more often than not. On the right side of the house, it has a large double window that faces an ever growing herb garden. At the back wall with the windows, is his desk that is a dark mahogany wood. In front of the desk are two welcoming comfortable chairs, and there is a matching sofa to the right of the room with a coffee table.

On the left of the room is a matching wood bookcase, but resembles a small library. There is a door to the right of the shelves, that leads to the actual library; that has become Liam’s favorite space over the years. The bottom shelves are enclosed and are locked cabinets; where he keeps pack files. The walls are white, but the rug is a deep maroon color that makes the room, seem more decorated than it really is.

He circles the room until he comes to the bookshelf, and spies a photograph that is from when he was younger; it has his mother in it. Liam has never really been one to be clingy or dependent on his parents. But seeing the photo of his mom just brings the memory that she was taken by Fletcher, and is probably being tortured at this very moment. It doesn’t exactly set well with him, and neither do the recent events either.

He is just reaching for the picture of a younger version of himself is playing on a beach, with his mother laughing in the background; when the door to the library opens. Filing his losses in the back of his mind to deal with later, Liam glances up at his father while backing away from the bookshelf.

Facing his father, he tries to see the resemblance between them that everyone says is there. Personally he doesn’t see it, but apparently, the man’s grey eyes and sandy blonde hair almost matches his own. Liam does notice that his father’s features are a little darker than his, and thinks that maybe they look slightly similar; but then maybe

Liam doesn’t want to look like his father. Liam makes a move for one of the chairs in the room, but Marshall stops him with a gentle hold on his forearm, causing Liam to freeze in place.

“Try not to worry so much, son. We will get her back, we just have to be patient.”

And here Liam thought he was being slick by backing away from the photo, apparently not. Marshall releases his barely there hold, and goes right to his large black leather desk chair and sits down in one swift movement. The man doesn’t slouch or look the tiniest bit of uncomfortable like Liam; he just leans back and gives his son a serious blank expression. Liam wonders how a serious expression could be blank, but his dad is the type of man to pull it off coolly.

Not waiting to be asked, he marches over and sits in the chair facing the massive desk, but doesn’t do it as slickly as his father. He’s feeling rather impotent all of a sudden, and he remembers why he always chooses to work away from home. His dad is totally cramping his style, and the man hasn’t even done anything yet. Welcome home, he thinks to himself.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning Li, and tell me again what happened back at Gordon’s.”

One thing he thinks the two of them actually share is the unmistakable deep twang of their voices; and his father’s is much deeper with age, making him seem demanding. With a sigh, Liam straightens his posture, and tries to not flinch when retelling the tragic tale of boy kisses girl, girl runs after another boy, causing girl to get kidnapped, and then the other boy gets left behind in the attempt to rescue said girl.

Liam makes it a point to leave out certain details, like his kissing of Moira and the awkward moment when Marty walked in on them. He doesn’t like to think of the look on the other boys face, or worse yet, the look on hers; like she was guilty. No, he doesn’t tell his father this; just the basics

Just the stuff where they made it in one piece, to Marshall’s longtime friend Gordon’s house, and how they got attacked in the middle of the night. Liam tells him again, that they were betrayed by members of the pack and how they were working with a cult group called the Purists. He tells his father that the group, took Moira for one reason and one reason alone; the reward money.

Chapter Twenty One

He forces his voice to remain steady, when he gets to the part in the tale where they get to the warehouse for the rescue. Even more so, when he gets to the party where it’s just him, Marty and Gordon left inside with some of the cult members. They were doing alright in the fight, but there were police sirens getting closer by the second, and Liam knew if they didn’t get out of their fast they would all get caught. Gordon knew this too, and he told Liam to get out of there and get the others to safety. That is all well and good, if it weren’t for the fact that Marty was getting outnumbered fast, so Liam hesitated.

He leaves out the hesitation part to his father though, and just tells him that Gordon made him leave them behind. This is true in a sense, but not completely enough to make him feel free of guilt. What really happened was that Gordon stayed behind to help Marty, while Liam was to get everyone else in the truck and ready to leave. Gordon and Marty were supposed to meet them, but they didn’t come and the police were almost upon them.

So Liam made the hard call; he left the men behind and got the rest of them to safety. It sounds good in theory, and if only the others thought good of it, then everything would be alright right about now. But it’s not, and he knows it. Just one more thing to add to the already long list of things Moira despises him for. You’d think a girl would only kiss you if she liked you; not in Liam’s case.