Something within me shifts and my forehead furrows. What the hell? Mom collapses against the wall and scrubs her face with her hands. A pang of worry ricochets through me. There probably isn’t a person in this house who has slept in days. Because of that, I let her comment go. College Mom mentions, but walking away from Snowflake and the club—never. Exhaustion is causing everyone to talk nonsense.
I wrap an arm around my mother and pull her into me. She hugs me back and I kiss the top of her head. “Get some sleep.”
“Promise me you’ll sleep, as well.”
“Sure.” Whenever I can.
“Izzy?” Dad stands at the end of the hallway in the living room. He surveys both of us and I hide the picture from view. If I had a patch on my back, I’d be required to tell Eli what Olivia divulged to Emily. For once, I’m happy I’m not currently under that obligation.
“You ready to go home?” he asks Mom.
Mom sends me that sad smile again before seeking the shelter of my father’s body.
“You gonna man up tomorrow about falling asleep on the job?” my father asks as he hugs Mom.
“Yeah,” I answer, then jack my thumb in the opposite direction of him. “I’m going to sit with Olivia.”
He nods his approval and I leave my parents behind as I head into the room of the one person I can’t imagine living without.
Emily
I SUCK IN a large intake of air and roll to my side. On instinct, I reach for James, but then remember that he’s not in my bed anymore. I banished the pink elephant that I slept with for years to my dresser back in middle school. It was my way of breaking a bad habit, but for some reason, I still wake up searching.
My entire body except for my brain is zoned out. My muscles are warm and heavy and I must have swum too much with Dad then had a long run with Trisha... My eyes snap open... I’m not home and I’ve been separated from my mom and dad.
A puff of air to my face and there are two large dark eyes. Adrenaline shakes through me, my mouth gapes and a scream ravages my throat, but no sound escapes. I scramble back as the eyes inch closer. I push away. Kick at covers, but I become ensnarled and entangled. The eyes lunge forward and then they...lick?
Hot, sticky wetness across my face, on my cheeks, in my hair. Ugh. The smell of wet dog engulfs me. My hand grabs the muzzle of the beast in my bed and I nudge it away, but the drool monster keeps returning.
“Get down, Lars.” Eli rakes a hand over his short hair as he sits up on the long window seat. A pillow crease streaks across his cheek and he has the groggy appearance that accompanies just being woken. Eli wears the same white T-shirt as last night, the same pair of jeans and his leather vest hangs on the post of the bed.
I shake my head and rub my eyes. Sleeping Beauty must have been seriously disoriented after she woke up, but then she slept for years and me—I’ve obviously only slept an hour or so. “What time is it?”
“Too early to be awake,” Eli answers. “Go back to sleep, Emily. Your mom mentioned you don’t like the dark, woods or the unfamiliar so she said Olivia’s would make you uncomfortable. I’ll stay up if it’ll make you feel better.”
A pang of hurt shoots through me that she’d tell Eli, or anyone, my fear.
Another huff of warm air on my arm and the basset hound blinks at me before easing onto its hind legs to sit—while still on the bed. Nice to see it listened to Eli’s earlier command. Lars opens his mouth to allow his overly large pink tongue to spill out the side. He pants bad dog breath and looks at me like he’s smirking.
I detest dogs.
I wipe the slobber off my face then choke down the dry heave. Thick drool clings from finger to finger. Bad form to now deposit the slime anywhere else. Eli stands, pulls a white handkerchief out of his pocket and offers it to me. “Here.”
I accept the folded white square and take my time drying off my hand. According to the clock on the dresser it’s six in the morning and it’s too early to be attacked by drool. “When can I talk to Mom and Dad?”
“Soon,” Eli says. “They’ve moved locations. Once you get some sleep, I’ll take you to them.”
“Take me to them now.”
“You’ll see them in a few hours. Chill and go back to sleep.”
“Yay for your plans. Take me to them now.” I stare straight at Eli and he stares straight back at me. My biological father should scare the hell out of me with his glowering, but I’m too tired to be smart enough to worry. People obviously don’t talk back to him. My instincts must be right that he doesn’t have any other children. Or at least not ones he interacts with.
There’s a hard set to his jaw when he yanks his cell out of his back pocket and tosses it onto the bed. “They’re worried. I told them you had a rough night and were asleep. You’re so tired you passed out. You should be sleeping, not talking on the phone.”
I take his cell and scroll through the list of text messages already appearing on the screen. A grin attempts to pull at my lips. My mother is going absolutely ballistic. Not that I enjoy her panic, but it’s nice to see something familiar. The text conversations between my parents and Eli confirm it: I really wasn’t kidnapped.
I swing his phone back and forth. “Can I?”
“Contact them? It’d calm your mom down.” Eli relaxes back on the window seat and that stupid sloppy smile that I stupidly love crosses his face. “The past twenty-four hours have been so messed up that I haven’t had a chance to tell you how happy I am to see you. Because of Mom’s condition, I wasn’t sure when I was going to make it to Florida for a visit.”
My heart plummets and I focus on the texts even though I stopped reading. The expectant hope on Eli’s face cuts right through me. God, I’m an awful person and I don’t want to be an awful person. Eli’s a good guy and he has no idea how much I dread his annual visit to Florida.
When I was ten, I made a horrible mistake. One I continually pay for. A mistake that has brought heartache to my mother and a ton of continual hurt for me. I asked if I could see a picture of Eli because...because...I was curious.
Until then, Eli was a figment of my imagination. He was this floating nonexistent guy who had spared a few minutes of his life to create me. Thanks to a school report on family trees that included pictures, the eyelid-flipping boy I had hated since kindergarten pointed out that I resembled no one in my family. Not Dad’s parents, not my mother and definitely not my father.