Claire froze, her brow creasing with a minimal twitch. “Excuse me?”
I leaned back, noting that the fur of her coat was now wet and smashed, the place where my face had been sticking up at odd angles the way Zakai’s hair did in the morning. I felt a clunk in my stomach at the mere fleeting thought of his name. “My uncle kissed me,” I moaned.
Claire stepped away, thrusting her shoulders back. Her eyes grew cold. “You little liar,” she said, poison in her tone. “You pretty little liar.” Her lips tipped upward but there was no sympathy in her smile. “I knew you’d have issues. I told him. How could you not? But I didn’t know you’d be downright sick.”
Hope drained from my body, leaving me bleak and lifeless. I picked up my backpack and my suitcase and walked around her.
“Where the hell are you going?” she demanded.
I didn’t answer her though. I didn’t know. I pushed open the door and walked out into the night.
As I moved through the streets, Claire’s words repeated in my mind.
I knew you’d have issues. But I didn’t know you’d be downright sick.
Issues.
Sick.
Who knows the amount of therapy that kid will need?
I felt like a walking wound. A festering sore. I was grotesque and unnatural.
Claire’s green eyes continued to flash coldly in my mind, my heart beating dully in my chest. In the desert, there was a lizard with eyes like Claire’s, just as green as a new budding leaf. It appeared docile and harmless from a distance.
But if you crossed it, it would strike.
**********
I had nowhere to go, nowhere at all. Except to Zakai. Perhaps I’d misunderstood his and Giselle’s relationship. Perhaps they were just roommates. A shiver ran through me. What if they’re not?
Karys is naïve.
I’d never once—during any part of my life that I could remember—not had Zakai to turn to. Perhaps we were . . . estranged. But he wouldn’t reject me now, not in my time of deep need. He’d thought I was well taken care of before, but once he knew I needed him, he’d never turn me away.
You know I’d do anything for you, right, Karys?
Yes. Yes.
In my rush to leave Braxton’s, I’d left my cell phone behind. I stopped at a café with Internet access and took the laptop Braxton had bought me out of my backpack, using their Wi-Fi to access the Internet. I frowned at the screen for a moment. I had learned how to use a computer well. I even understood the Internet for the most part, though there was a lot to wrap my head around on that front. But I wasn’t entirely sure how to go about finding Giselle’s address other than putting her name in a search engine. I typed it in, breathing out a quick sigh of relief when her address came up under a People Search.
Shoving the note I’d jotted the address on into my pocket, I threw my computer into my backpack and headed for the door. I felt nervous and sick to my stomach, heavy with despair over this unexpected turn in the road of my life, but I also felt a modicum of determination. I had an address and a destination.
Please, please, let me be in Zakai’s arms by the time this night is over.
It was a quick subway ride to the street where Giselle was listed. I stood gazing up at her building—made of glass and steel. It reminded me of the impression I’d gotten of the woman herself. Sharp and cold and undeniably beautiful.
A doorman dressed in a formal uniform pulled the door open for me, tipping his hat as I offered a small smile and headed for the half-moon desk in the middle of the marble lobby.
“Yes, ma’am, how may I direct you?”
I pushed a lock of hair off my cheek. I could only imagine how I looked. Rumpled and tear-stained and utterly pathetic. “I’m here to see Giselle Blanchet, please.”
“Is she expecting you, ma’am?”
My eyes shifted away. “Not exactly. But if you could let her know I’m here. My name is Karys Grant and I’d like to speak to someone who’s staying with her.”
The man frowned. “Of course, ma’am. Just a moment, please.” He turned his body slightly, picking up a phone and dialing. After a moment he hung up. “I’m sorry but she must be out for the evening.”
“Oh,” I said, dejected, more tears threatening. I glanced behind me, back to the cold, dark street. What did I do now? Stand in front of the building and wait for Giselle and Zakai to return?
The man cleared his throat. “There’s a New Year’s Eve party at the rooftop bar, ma’am. Perhaps your friends are there? You’re welcome to leave your bags behind the desk and check for yourself.”
A breath of hope returned. “Oh, the rooftop bar?”
“Yes,” he said, kindly. “You just take that elevator there to the top floor.” He pointed to a bank of elevators to his left.
“Thank you so much. You’re sure it’s okay if I leave my bags for a short time?”
“I’ll take good care of them.”
“Thank you again,” I said, walking my bags around the desk and handing them over. “I can’t tell you how appreciative I am.”
“Happy New Year, ma’am.”
I gave him a grateful smile, heading for the elevators. As the car rose, I smoothed my clothes. They were the baggy, nondescript clothes I’d worn to cross the ocean. This leg of my journey was comprised of far fewer miles, but felt no less daunting. I was the girl without a home again, only this time, I did not have Zakai by my side.
Relax. He’s the other half of you.
Or he was.
Surely he hasn’t forgotten so soon.
I stepped out of the car, chatter and the clinking of glasses just underneath the sound of music coming from somewhere toward the back of the outdoor space. The night was cold, but the heat lamps placed around the perimeter and the numerous moving bodies kept the chill at bay. I moved through the sparkling crowd, each person seeming effervescent with joy as they tilted their heads back and laughed, or drank from flutes of champagne. I felt like a weed among a garden of roses, as though by my very existence I dulled their beauty.
My chest constricted when I saw him, pain and joy, ambivalence and elation, conflicting emotions that beat through my veins to the rhythm of the song that soared through the night.
He was sitting at a high-top table, his gaze trained on the city lights beyond, Giselle standing next to him, leaned across the square table as she gestured and spoke animatedly with another woman in a short, black dress that picked up the lantern light and cast dizzying rainbows my way.
He lifted his head and his red-rimmed, unfocused gaze met mine. His mouth went slack and his olive skin paled. He shook his head slightly as I approached, as though I might be a dream he was slowly waking from.
“Karys?” Giselle asked incredulously, her voice raised over the noise of the party. “Is that you?”
I kept my gaze trained on Zakai. “Hello,” I said far too softly to be heard, imploring Zakai with my eyes, my heart sinking slowly when he remained seated without acknowledging me. He blinked his eyes open wide as if he was having trouble keeping them from falling shut. A waitress I hadn’t notice approach set a glass down in front of Zakai, and the others at the table and cleared the myriad of empty ones already there.