I nodded. “I’m sure they’ll figure it out eventually. They may be creepy as hell, but they aren’t stupid.”
“Do you trust me?” Russ asked.
The silence in the room took on a life of its own. “Of course.”
“Then believe me when I say I have a feeling things are about to change. And I need to be a part of that change.”
I shivered. Russ wasn’t talking about a normal “feeling” but something more, something St. Hilaire. Exactly why I need to leave.
“I believe you,” I said, although I wasn’t sure what Russ was asking for, aside from my trust and, of course, he had that. He always had.
I couldn’t say anything, didn’t know what to promise. The only thing I had was my plan to leave St. Hilaire, and that wasn’t negotiable. But neither was my friendship with Russ. So all I could do was nod a promise I couldn’t pin down. And breathe a sigh of relief when Russ nodded back, a trace of hope on his otherwise expressionless face.
Chapter 21
Russ
The water in Morris Creek surged. My heartbeat echoed the sound, erratic and out of time.
I clenched and unclenched my fists. I hated fighting. Not the physical throw of a punch, or the menacing stand between two opposing forces. Those I could handle. What I hated was the emotional rip and tear of feelings I didn’t know how to quiet.
I’d considered telling Dec about my dream with Ian, considered telling him about running into Willow and the extent of this feeling I couldn’t shake that things were soon about to change so drastically, we wouldn’t even recognize them.
Then we’d fought and I’d been blindsided by the Guild’s letter, stung by the reminder that Dec was going to leave regardless of what else happened.
Something rustled behind me, and I turned, expecting to see an animal moving against the leaves. Instead, Alex Mackenzie burst through a copse of ash trees, red-faced. “Hanging out with all your friends, Griffin?”
Then the leaves rustled again. Garmer came through them, panting, and laid his giant head on my leg. I ran my hand through the dog’s wiry coat and waited for Alex to say what he wanted.
“I don’t suppose it would do any good to tell you to leave him alone?” Alex asked, pointing at the dog.
I looked up from the animal and narrowed my eyes at Alex until he sat on a rock, just far enough away that one of us would have to move to connect with a punch.
“He hates everyone, you know. I mean, except me.” Alex stared at the dog. “He was Ian’s,” he added, his voice full of uncharacteristic emotion. Alex hauled himself to his feet and paced along the rocky edge of the cliff. The same sharp features that had arranged themselves so dangerously well in Ian were jumbled and complicated in his youngest brother. “Have you heard from him? Talked to him or anything?”
It was impossible to know how much Alex knew about my previous dealings with his brother. “Look, Alex, Ian and I were…” It was impossible to finish the sentence. I’d never figured out what precisely Ian and I had been. The dog flipped onto his side and let out a huge groan. Pretty much how I felt too. “Ian’s dead,” I said. Sometimes the truth was all there was.
“I know that, dickhead. Seriously. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”
The speed of Alex’s pacing increased. “You should sit,” I suggested. He seemed even more edgy than normal.
“You should fuck off.”
I stood and buttoned my coat. “How about this? I’m going to leave and go do my thinking somewhere else. You can have this whole cliff to yourself.”
I made it four steps before Alex rushed up and stopped me by saying, “I need my car back.”
My hands wrapped about the keys in my pocket. “Didn’t Ian ever teach you not to bet anything you couldn’t afford to lose?”
“I didn’t lose it,” Alex said. “I just… You have to help me.” His eyes were wide and desperate.
Suddenly cold, I pulled the edges of my coat tighter. I didn’t want to be intrigued. I didn’t want to care at all. But Alex had piqued my curiosity. “Help you do what?”
“Don’t be dense, Griffin. I need you to help me contact Ian.”
I almost laughed. “Everyone has tried. It doesn’t seem like he wants to be in touch. Besides, you know the rules.” Even to me, the excuses sounded like excuses.
“The rules? The rules?” Alex exploded. “Do you think the freaking Guild gives a fuck whether or not you talk to my brother for me? Not like they don’t want to use him.”
I looked up, unsure about whether Alex’s question demanded an answer. Pink clouds dotted the sky. A painted sky, that’s what my mother would have called it. I didn’t often miss her anymore. But now, I wondered if she could see this same sky, wherever-the-hell she was.
Alex grabbed at my sleeve, and I reacted without missing a beat, pinning him against a tree, feet dangling like a pendulum. “Are you done?”
“I…” Alex sputtered.
I counted to five in my head, and then gently placed him back on the ground.
“That’s something else your brother never taught you,” I said. “Don’t piss off the people you’re asking for help.”
As I walked back into the woods, I allowed the smug expression I’d put on for Alex’s benefit slide off my face. As always, talking about Ian left me feeling strangely empty and defeated, as if there was something I should have been doing that I’d overlooked.
I didn’t even know where to begin to find it.
* * *
Instead of going straight home, I detoured through the gates and into Buchanan. The old gas streetlamps flickered as I made my way to the deserted train station. According to the big clock on the outside wall, the 11:42 to Penn Station should have been about to leave, but the tracks were silent. There was a sign on the office that read ALL TRAINS CANCELED UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
I went to the side employees-only door and pulled it open.
“Sorry, we’re closed,” a voice called, and then my father came out of the office. “Oh, it’s you,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel. “Everything okay?”
My father looked concerned, and I hated worrying him, so I lied and said, “I’m okay.”
“Mm-hmm,” my dad said, knowing better. While it wasn’t the first time, I didn’t habitually show up at the Buchanan train station in the middle of the night. He put the towel down on a sawhorse and opened the small fridge he kept under the workbench. “Drink?”