The Wanderers Beginning: The Wanderers, Reborn, & Unforgiven (31 page)

  
              I dreamed again that night.

  
              This one was like the first one I started having after I initially arrived. Except this time, Tristan was only my savior, not my enemy. The enemy was still an unknown character. And this time, Tristan's eyes didn't glow. They stayed the same deep, dark blue I was accustomed to. Instead of his hands reaching for my throat, they cupped the sides of my face; a single tear fell down his cheek as he whispered in my ear, “I'm sorry.”

  
              When I opened my eyes, I stared up at the ceiling, wondering what all this meant. Then I looked over at Tristan sleeping sound on the couch, covers thrown off of him, half on the floor. I got up off the bed and lay down next to him, I rested my head on his chest as he wrapped an arm around me and kissed me on my forehead.

Chapter
sixteen

In the morning there was a frantic knock on the door. “Ella...Ella,” I heard Josie whisper. I rolled over, forgetting I was on the couch, and fell right off with a loud oomph. “Ella?” Josie opened the door letting herself in. She took one look at me on the floor and in my underwear and said, “I'm not even going to ask.”

  
              Tristan, now waking up, looked down at me. “What are you doing on the floor?”

  
              I rolled my eyes and stood up, brushing myself off. “What is it Josie?” I asked while I got dressed.

  
              “Huh?” she mumbled. She was staring at Tristan, shirtless, too distracted to remember what she came here for. Tristan noticed her expression and sat up. He stretched his arms above his head, and then brought them down, pausing slightly to flex his muscles. He winked at Josie and she gave him a half-cocked smile.

  
              I threw a pillow at him and turned back to Josie. “Josie! Focus!”

  
              “Huh? Oh yeah, your mom.”

  
              “What about my mom?”

  
              “She's here.”

  
              “What?” I yelped.

  
              Josie shushed me and closed the door. “She's in our room, with my mom too.”

  
              “What are they doing here?” I asked panicked, looking for my shoes.

  
              “Well since you never called her back, she decided to come here and inspect things for herself and brought my retched mother with her.”

  
              “Great,” I said.

  
                            “Leave your shoes.”

  
              “What, Why?” I asked confused.

  
              “I told her you were in the bathroom,” Josie said, looking nervously over her shoulder. “Hurry up before they decide to look in the closet.”

  
              “What's wrong with them looking in the closet –,” I started, then realized. “You didn't.”

  
              “What was I supposed to do? They just showed up, unannounced,” she said, throwing her hands up, flustered.

  
              “I can't believe you stuck Billy in the closet,” I said, making my way to the door.

  
              Tristan laughed at poor Billy's misfortune. “You better not tell anyone,” Josie threatened. He just smiled and imitated zipping his lips.

  
              I left without another word.

  
              Once at our room, I took a deep breath before opening the door. “Mom, hi.”

  
              “Well it's nice to see you're okay,” she said, eyes narrowed. “You know if you had just called, I wouldn't have had to drag poor Mrs. McNaughton all the way out here just to make sure our daughters were still alive.”

  
                            I stifled an eye roll. I knew it was just an excuse she used to convince my dad to let her come here. She was quite aware that I was alive and well. Dean had told me he called her when he got back to school letting her know everything was fine. “Well don't just stand there, come give your mother a hug.” I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. Despite her need to be overbearing, I was happy to have my mom. I squeezed her a little tighter, holding on a little longer, inhaling her sweet scent.

  
              I felt her exhale at the embrace. When I pulled back she gripped my hands and her face instantly frowned when she saw my bandaged hand. “What happened?”

  
              “Oh it's nothing. I accidentally broke a glass and cut my hand. It's fine, really,” I said, pulling my hand away and hoping she was buying it. It wasn't a complete lie. I brushed it off like it was nothing so I could avoid a million questions.

  
              “Oh Ella, honestly, you need to be more careful.”

  
              “I know.” I bit my lip and looked at Josie. She had an anxious look on her face, her eyes constantly shifting to the closet and then back to me, giving me a look that said hurry this up. “Why don't we go get some breakfast,” I suggested.

  
              “What about your classes?” my mom asked.

  
              “We don't have classes today,” Josie said, speaking for the first time. I turned to her and gave her a look that said,
'what the hell are
you thinking?'
“It's Friday Ella, Skylar's memorial? Classes are canceled today so we can pay our respects.”

  
              I had totally forgotten. With everything going on I lost track of time and didn't even realize what day it was. “Oh right. Just let me change and then we can be on our way.”

  
              I quickly put on jeans and a nice shirt and gestured for everyone to leave when my mom stopped me. “Ella, where's your coat? It's freezing outside.”

  
              “I...uh...it's fine, I don't need one.”

  
              “Don't be silly. Where is it, in the closet?” She turned and put her hand on the handle to the closet door.

  
              “NO!” Josie and I both yelled. My mom turned to us, a suspicious look on her face.

  
              “I just remembered I...uh...”

  
              “Left it at a friend's,” Josie finished for me.

  
              “A friend's… yeah. Why don't you guys go head down to the lobby? I'll go get my coat and Josie and I will meet you two down there.” My mom looked back at the closet; forehead wrinkled, but agreed to meet us downstairs. Relieved, I opened the door to let them out only to find Tristan standing there, hand in air, as if he was about to knock, my coat and shoes in his other hand.

  
              “Hey I was –” he started until I shook my head as a warning; eyes wide.

  
              My mom pulled the door open the rest of the way to be nosey. “Ella, don't be rude, introduce us to your friend.”

  
             
Oh, this just gets better and better
, I sighed.

  
              “Hi, I'm Tristan, McKinnon,” he said, extending a hand to my mom in a gentlemanly manner.

  
              “Jamila McCallister, Ella's mother, and this is Jade McNaughton, Josie's mother.” Jade gave Tristan a flirtatious smile and winked at him. I fought back the bile that was rising in the back of my throat while my mom kept her attention on Tristan. “And how do you know my daughter?”

  
             
Great, here come the million questions.

  
              “Ella and I have an Art class together,” he said simply. My mom looked at the coat he was holding and then back at me, eyes suspicious. “I was just returning Ella's coat. She left it in the art room.”

  
              My mom turned to me wearing her ‘I just caught you in a lie’ look. “I thought you said you left it at a friend’s?”

  
              “I thought I did. I was at the Art room, then went to a friend's and thought I left it there,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek hoping she was buying it. I knew she could tell something was off, but left it go.

  
              “Do you have any plans this morning Tristan?” My mom asked him.

  
             
Busted.

  
              I knew it. And now she was going to embarrass me by inviting Tristan along, pretending to be all polite when really I knew she was just preparing for an interrogation.

  
              “No ma'am,” Tristan replied, clearly having no idea what he was getting himself into.

  
              “Please, call me Jamila,” she said charmingly. Only I knew there was venom behind those fangs she hid. Sensing my irritation, she chastised me with just a single look. I shifted my weight and played with the hole in the door frame to keep myself distracted from opening my mouth and causing more trouble.

  
              “No Jamila, I do not have any plans,” he said. My head snapped up and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  
              “Well then, you should join us for breakfast.” I stood behind her, shaking my head and waving my hands no; a silent protest to save us all from the upcoming torment.

  
              “I'd love to,” he said, smiling charmingly as I glared at him.

  
              “Perfect and now we don't have to wait for Ella to get her coat. Come on girls.”

  
              “Uh,” I stuttered, trying to find a way to stall. I nudged my head in the direction of the closet.

  
              “If you don't mind, I will meet you lovely ladies downstairs in the lobby. I have to put on more, suitable attire,” Tristan said, winking at me when they weren't looking.

  
              “Don't go all out on our account. I'm sure whatever you put on will be fine,” Jade purred, dragging a nail down his arm.

  
              Tristan coughed uncomfortably and Josie pushed her mom out the door. “Gross mom,” she mumbled.

  
              “We'll see you in the lobby?” My mom asked, looking at her watch.

  
              “Five minutes top,” he replied. My mom gave him one last look and followed Josie and Jade down the hall.

  
              Once they were out of earshot I hit Tristan in the chest. “Why did you say yes?”

  
              “What, I thought it would be nice to get to know my future mother-in-law,” he teased with his cocky smile. 

  
              “You never stop do you?”

  
              “I believe now this is twice that I got you into bed with me,” he said, holding up two fingers and smiling proudly.

 
              “Don't count your chickens before they hatch,” I said, quoting my grandmother. He went to retort but I stopped him and pushed him in the direction of my room. “Just get Billy out of the closet,” I said, taking off after my mom. I heard him chuckle under his breath as I walked away.

  
              Ten minutes later, Tristan was in the lobby and Billy was following a few feet behind. He winked at Josie on his way out and she blushed smiling bashfully at him.

At breakfast, my mom instantly started with the questioning. “So Tristan, you said your last name was McKinnon, correct?”

  
              “Yes ma'am, sorry, Jamila,” he said, stumbling over his words a bit. I found it funny to see Tristan tense and nervous. He always seemed to be on top of his game, but for some reason he had this look like my mom had just gripped him by the balls and wasn't going to let go until she got the information she needed. This was surprising to me considering he was usually good in these types of situations. He was always so suave and debonair. If I looked close enough I could swear he was sweating a little. Although I don't blame him, my mom can be intimidating when she needs to be. I was kind of enjoying watching him squirm though, but I knew it wouldn't be long before he regained himself and said something that was going to make me want to hide under the table.

  
              “Any relation to Kenneth McKinnon?” My mom asked.

  
              “Yes, he's –” he stopped and corrected himself. “Sorry, was, my great grandfather,” he said, emphasizing the word
‘was’
. I looked at him curiously but he kept his eyes on my mom watching her reaction to his mistake.

  
              “Ah yes, he
was
a great man and dear friend,” she said, emphasizing the word was as well. I looked at her, not having any memory of meeting him. “You never met him honey. You were too young at the time,” she said, reading the odd expression on my face.

  
              “I am to assume then your father is Caleb and your mother Bitsy?”

  
             
'Bitsy,'
Josie mouthed to me mocking the name. I looked down trying to hide my smile.

  
              “Yes,” Tristan confirmed. “And stepmother.”

  
              My mom nodded her head approvingly and Tristan relaxed a little. “Very nice people as well, I've worked with your mother, sorry, stepmother,” she corrected, “on quite a few charity events. I can't wait to tell her I've finally met the son she's always talking about.”