Oh God—here we go. Cards on the table time again.
I promised myself I’d go slow, try not to scare her off. But she’s come so far in the last hour, and I can’t help feeling like I might never get a chance to say this again. I just . . . have to.
I take her hands and stare into the face of the only girl I’ve ever really wanted.
“I love you.” My voice cracks from nerves and I curse myself for sounding like I’m twelve. I clear my throat, trying to recover. “I know that’s inconvenient for you. But it’s true.”
“I can’t, Vane—”
“Yes, you can. If you can eat a cheeseburger—and enjoy it—you can let yourself love me. You can do anything you want. You just have to want to.”
I hold my breath, waiting for her response.
She won’t look at me. Not a good sign.
“I care for you, Vane,” she whispers. “But you’re not a cheeseburger—a single meal that will be out of my system in a few months, like it never happened. You’re a permanent mistake.”
Permanent. Mistake.
Talk about ouch.
She pulls her hands away, taking her sparks with her. “I’m sorry.”
A couple tears streak down her cheeks.
Seeing them makes it hurt more. Makes it feel final.
I’ve done everything I can—said everything there is to say. And it isn’t enough.
I shift into reverse without looking at her. She buckles her seat belt—getting it right in one try—and turns away.
She doesn’t speak again until I pull into my driveway and park. “I have something I should’ve given to you a long time ago.” She reaches into her pocket and pulls out some sort of copper-colored cord with something round and silver in the center. “Hold out your right hand.”
I don’t have the energy to argue, so I do as she asks and she wraps the braided strap around my wrist and latches it with the worn copper clasp.
I turn my wrist over, surprised to find that the silver piece in the center is actually a small compass. The arrow spins for a second, then comes to a stop on West.
Audra sucks in a breath. “It’s never done that for me. But I’m not a Westerly.” She sighs. “It was your father’s, I believe—though both your parents had them. I found it in the rubble after the storm and kept it for you. I figured you’d want to have something that was theirs.”
The copper band looks worn and weathered, and the glass on the compass is scratched and dulled. But it’s perfect.
Audra buttons her jacket, becoming guardian Audra again. “We’re going to need to come up with a battle plan tonight. The more prepared we are, the better our chances.”
There are so many things I could—should—say.
But I don’t know what the right move is anymore.
Audra decides for me. She exits the car.
As she steps outside she turns her face to the wind, closing her eyes. It should’ve been a peaceful gesture, but her brow creases. Her lips tighten.
“What’s wrong?” I ask as she spins around, her wild eyes scanning the sky.
She doesn’t answer. Just walks toward the grove, touching the trunks of the palms. She glances at the treetops, searching for something.
“You realize how much trouble you’re in, don’t you?” my mom calls from the front door.
Crap.
“I know, Mom. I’m sorry.”
“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what the hell is going on.” She steps outside, shaking her head as she moves down the path toward me. She folds her arms across her chest. “Where were you?”
“Santa Monica,” I say, only half paying attention as I climb out of the car and head toward Audra.
Audra scoops up a small white dove and inspects the feathers of its wings. Her frown deepens with every feather she checks.
“Are you even listening to me?” my mom asks.
I turn back toward her.
My mom sighs. “I want to trust you, honey—but you’re making it very hard. Ever since she came along, you haven’t been the same. What’s she doing over there, anyway?”
Audra fiddles with the dove’s feathers, rearranging them somehow. Her hands shake.
“I don’t know.” But something is clearly wrong.
I run to her side, annoyed at my mom for following but knowing I can’t stop her.
“What happened?” I ask Audra.
Her face looks pale as she stares into space, ignoring me. She tosses the dove into the sky, its wings flapping in my face as it flies away.
Freaking birds.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” I beg.
“We just ran out of time,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. “The Stormers will be here tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 44
AUDRA
I can barely believe the words as I speak them. It wasn’t her usual crow, but the dove came from my mother. And I checked her message three times, counting and recounting each mark she made in the feathers to make sure I hadn’t missed one.
There’s no mistake.
But . . . it’s only been four days since I gave away our location.
Four.