“I knew it,” Sapphire said, scorn dripping from her voice. “And you all looked down on me for getting knocked up by that rich asshole and thinking that I even had a chance with him. Well, you’re no smarter than I was. I guess you think you’re so much better than me that Sam will actually want you for more than a quick lay.”
“Excuse the hell out of me,” Clover said hotly. “I am not having sex with Sam McCoy. And if you think Jeffrey’s an asshole, why do you want to marry him? Last thing I knew you were madly in love with him.”
“I don’t want lunch anymore. I just lost my appetite,” Sapphire said coldly, and she turned and slammed out of the room. Clover heard the front door slam, and then she heard the screech of tires as Sapphire peeled out of the parking lot.
Great. Clover would love to blame Sapphire’s mood swings on her pregnancy, but the truth was, she’d always run hot and cold. One minute she was your best friend, the next minute she was making cutting, bitchy remarks and accusing everyone of being against her. The problem was that when she was in her nice phase, she was so damn charming that she sucked you back in.
She spotted a green matchbook on the floor by the doorway. It hadn’t been there when Sapphire came in; it must have fallen out of her purse. She bent down to pick it up. The matchbook cover said “The Snakepit”, and had a picture of a coiled-up snake on it.
She went to her computer and searched for “The Snakepit, North Florida” on Google, and found out it was a biker bar in Anhinga County, which was the county bordering Blue Moon County. Awesome place for a pregnant girl to work.
She forced herself to put it out of her mind for now. There was nothing she could do about it at the moment. Sapphire was a grownup; she could work where she wanted. She spent the rest of the weekend wondering if Sam was going to try to drop by and sweet talk her again. She was so, so ready to shoot him down. Unfortunately he never showed up and gave her the chance.
*
The porch swing creaked as Autumn swung back and forth, staring up at the silver crescent of the waning moon. The black velvet dome of the sky was a deep purplish black, and millions of stars winked down at her. She felt tiny and alone.
The back door swung open and Clover stuck her head out.
“Autumn, mom and dad are on the phone. They want to talk to you.”
Of course they did.
Autumn’s stomach twisted into an angry knot. She felt something dark and dangerous rumbling inside her, just under the surface of her skin. She’d never felt this way before. Something was wrong with her. Something was changing.
She leaped to her feet. “I’m about to go for a run.”
“What? Now? It’s dark out!” Clover protested.
“I won’t go far. I’ll stay on the property,” Autumn said, quickly shedding her clothes and leaving them in a pile by the steps. She heard Clover saying “Sorry, she still doesn’t want to talk to you. She’ll come around.”
Oh, if only you knew, Autumn thought as she sank down to all fours and leaped off the porch. If only I could tell someone. Her burden was like a heavy stone weighing down on her heart. She’d meant to do the right thing. She really, really had. Instead she’d made everything a million times worse.
She shot off into the darkness, her vision shrunk down to blacks and grays but her scent keen and sharp. The dark, angry beast that lurked inside her fought with her coyote, fought for control, but she didn’t recognize this beast, and she sensed that it was dangerous. She forced it back down and ran for the trees. She’d run and run and run, bathing in the sensations and the sounds and smells of the forest until she’d burned everything else from her troubled mind.
Chapter Eight
On Monday, Autumn stayed home to help Imogen around the boarding house while her siblings headed off to camp.
Clover spent the day writing up copy for the website. She kept waiting for someone to burst through the door and tell them that all three kids had been arrested, but the day passed uneventfully.
At 5 p.m., Clover was about to head out to pick her siblings up when Sam strode in her door, carrying a tray with three jars of honey on it. There was a bowl with several spoons in it next to the jar. He shut the door behind him. Had he just locked it? She raised an eyebrow at him.
“Now what are you up to?”
“Hello, nice to see you. Amazingly enough, everybody survived their first day at summer camp,” he said. “And apparently they taught everyone to escape from handcuffs. Moonshine brought them. Said she’d borrowed them from a police officer when he wasn’t looking.”
“Oh. Dear God.” She buried her face in her hands.
“What are you upset about? It’s a valuable skill.” He grinned at her and set the tray down on the table.