Deep Betrayal (Lies Beneath #2) (5 page)

“Dad is on the verge of experimenting. He’s still trying to resist, but he’s going in the lake soon. I don’t think he should transform … accidentally … without any warning.”

“I was afraid of that.”

“It’s time to tell him,” I said.

Calder drew his eyebrows together, knitting them into an inverted V. “Again. Bad idea.”

“Why?”

“Remember what I told you. Once I changed, I wrote off my entire family. Once he transforms, he won’t be the same.”

“You were only three. That won’t happen with my dad. Besides, not telling him isn’t an option anymore.”

“You’re not seeing the big picture here, Lily.”

“I need to fix this.”

“Fix this? What needs fixing? Quit thinking you can fix everything. I need you to stop and listen to me.”

“Not on this.” Muffled sounds from the beach reminded me of where I was. I kissed him once more. “I’m glad you came back. I thought maybe you changed your mind about me.”

“You should know by now, I never break my promises.”

He was very serious, but I grinned broadly. “I was counting on that. Let me go check on Sophie. You stay here.”

Carefully, ducking my head, I rolled out from under the metal hull. The sun blinded me for a second so I didn’t immediately recognize the dark, silhouetted figure surrounded by sun spots.

“Lily?” Jules asked. She grabbed my shoulders and shook me until my teeth rattled. “Haven’t you heard us calling for you? We’ve been going crazy. The lifeguard has everyone in a line, doing a freakin’ body search of the lake. I thought I was going to puke thinking I’d be the one to step on you. Sophie is bawling! God, Lily, I thought you were dead. I could
kill
you right now!”

I looked past her shoulder to the people linked at their elbows, shuffling through the water as a single unit. Most of them I’d never seen before. “I’m sorry, Jules. I really am.”

“What were you doing under that boat?” she demanded. Seriously pissed.

“I, uh …”

“Sorry,” Calder said, and crawled out from under the hull. The muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed as he pushed himself to his feet. “It’s my fault.”

“Oh, man,” Jules said.

My sentiments exactly. “Um … Jules, this is Calder White. Calder, this is my best friend, Jules Badzin.” Calder stuck out his hand, and I didn’t have to look at him to know what he was doing. Jules wasn’t blinking, and Calder’s projections were readable in the air. At least to me. Jules, poor thing, was sinking like a stone. How well did I know how
that
felt. I jabbed Calder hard in the ribs.

“So glad to finally meet you,” Jules said, pushing her hair behind one ear.

Oh, brother
.

Walking with Calder back toward the picnic table was a surreal experience. It was like two universes colliding: On my left walked my past, steadfast and normal. On my right
walked my hoped-for future, less certain and one hundred and eighty degrees removed from normal. I wondered which one would implode from the pressure of the other. I couldn’t help but notice Jules stealing sideways glances at Calder. I knew what she was thinking without being telepathic.

“Quit having impure thoughts,” I whispered in her ear.

“Oh. My. Goodness,” she said through her teeth.

Calder squeezed my hand. Of course he heard every word. He probably could have heard it from across the parking lot.

Jules ran ahead to tell the lifeguard I was safe. I almost wished I was hurt. It would make this so much less embarrassing if I was bleeding. Maybe I could fake a head injury.

The lifeguard blew his whistle in three sharp bursts and a collective groan came up from the shore. Rob came running, his face pale and sickly.

“Geez, Lily, where were you?” Then he noticed Calder. “Who’s this?”

“The figment of my imagination,” I said, more coolly than he deserved.

Rob pulled me from Calder’s side and nearly suffocated me in a hug. “I thought you were dead,” he said. “Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah, okay. Fine,” I said, laughing a little. “I’m sorry. I should have told someone I was going for a walk.” I pushed Rob off while electricity fizzed in the air behind me.

Rob let me go and stuck his hand out toward Calder, who hesitated and blew a long stream of air from his lungs before taking Rob’s hand.

“Thanks for bringing her back safe,” Rob said.

“I can take care of myself,” I said, which made Calder wince, though I wasn’t sure why.

Scott carried Sophie up the beach toward me, cradling her body in his arms. Her face was red and blotchy, making me feel my guilt more intensely than anything else.

“Honey,” I said as she reached toward me. She was too heavy, and we collapsed on the sand.

“Hi, Calder,” Sophie whimpered, without really looking at him, as if she expected nothing less than to see him walking me home.

“I think I’ve had enough sun,” Colleen said. “Maybe we should call it a day.”

Calder picked Sophie out of my lap and slung her onto his back without any effort. Together we climbed the hill toward the parking lot, dragging our coolers and towels with less finesse than we had hours earlier.

“I don’t think we have room for you in the van,” Rob said to Calder.

“That’s okay. I’ve got a car.”

I looked around for the Impala but I didn’t see it anywhere.

Calder asked, “Ride with me, Lil? Sophie, too?”

I took his hand, and Rob jogged to Zach’s van a little faster than normal.

“There’s something not right with that guy,” Calder said.

I laughed, looping my arm through his. “Yeah, all right. Remind me to tell you the one about the pot and the kettle.”

“Robby’s sad and kind of confused,” Sophie said, watching him climb into Zach’s van.

“Oh yeah?” I laughed. “And what do you know about it?”

Sophie shrugged. “You just have to look at him.”

Calder gave Sophie a funny look, then ruffled her hair with his hand. “Get in the car, kiddo.” He held the door open, and she slid into the backseat of a rusty black Buick. I got in the front and sat as close as I could to Calder.

“You look very pretty, Lily,” Sophie said as she drifted off to sleep.

Calder’s gaze went to the rearview mirror; then he raised his eyebrows at me. I felt the blood rush into my cheeks. “She probably has heatstroke,” I said.

T
he motel where Mom and Dad were staying was a one-story structure with an enormous peak over the entrance still strung with sagging Christmas lights. Calder pulled into a spot alongside the pool but near my parents’ room. The brass number 12 hung askew above the peephole in their door.

Sophie peeled her sweaty legs off the vinyl seat with a ripping sound and climbed out. She ran to the motel room door and knocked. In the brief second it was open, I saw Mom packing and the blue flicker of the television reflected in a mirror.

“I’m telling him now,” I said. “Before they leave. Maybe you’ll get your wish and he’ll change his mind about going back.”

“Please rethink this, Lil. He’s gone his whole life not knowing.”

“You probably don’t need to worry so much,” I said with a sigh. “I doubt he’s going to believe me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Calder said. His hand came to rest on my knee. I could feel the tingle of electricity in his fingertips, stimulating my muscles, making them jump. “He’ll believe you. You can trust me on that.”

I turned away from the door to look squarely at him. He brought his arm back to the steering wheel. “Why are you so sure?” I asked.

“Not believing you and not
wanting
to believe you are two different things. As soon as you start explaining, he’ll believe you. In his heart, he might already know.”

“You’re sure?” I turned back to stare at Number 12.

“Without a doubt.” He stroked my hair now and my confidence grew exponentially.

“Okay,” I said, releasing all the air from my lungs. “How do we do this?”

“You mean how do
you
do this. I told you what I think. This is all on you. Besides, having me there isn’t going to make him any more receptive.”

“I need you there with me. To explain,” I said.

He picked at the peeling rubber around the steering wheel. “I’ll wait in the car.”

“You seriously aren’t going to help me?”

He took a deep breath and slowly turned to face me. “What exactly are you going to say?”

“I’m going to start at the beginning. And then I’ll end by explaining about Tallulah, and her being found, and what it might mean for the future.”

“As if we knew,” he said, his tone scoffing.

“Are you going to be a jerk about this?” I stared at him, giving him the few seconds he obviously needed to think clearly, but he didn’t budge. He stared at his hands on the wheel.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll tell him on my own. But don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t.”

I unbuckled and kicked open the car door, which creaked on its hinges. When I slammed it shut, shards of rust sprinkled to the blacktop like glitter.

I knocked, and Sophie opened the door. Mom and Dad were already standing right behind her, apparently clued in to another one of my near-death experiences. How many did that make? Three, counting last night. This time I hadn’t even gotten wet.

“Mom. Dad,” I said, for lack of a better introduction.

“What’s going on, Lily?” Dad asked. “Are you trying to make us prematurely gray? Sophie said you almost drowned?”

“Hardly. Can I talk to you outside, Dad?” My voice was a thin wavering line.

Mom gave him a look and turned her wheelchair back toward the suitcases. Dad stepped out and closed the door quietly behind him.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Are you feeling okay? We shouldn’t have let you go to the beach.”

“Dad, we need to talk.” He narrowed his eyes and followed
unwillingly. I led him to one of the white plastic table-and-chair settings that were placed around the swimming pool. It didn’t escape my notice that he walked barefoot through every puddle on the pool deck.

The chairs scraped on the concrete as we pulled them up to the table. Dad’s face was pale, his blue eyes slightly sunken. His lips chapped and cracking at the corners of his mouth. Again I wished Calder had come with me. There were too many details I still didn’t fully understand.

“Okay. I know what you’re going to say, Lil, and I’ve already talked it over with your mom.”

“You talked to
her
about this?”

Dad looked at me with a puzzled expression. “Of course. She wants you to come home, and I don’t have any great excuse for keeping you away anymore. Heck, Lil, I want you to be with us. I’ve missed you. More than you know.

“And since I haven’t seen any sign of … 
him
 … Don’t look at me like that, you know who I mean. I don’t think we’ll have any more—”

“Dad, this isn’t about begging to come home, although I’m really glad you want me to. Really. But what I want to talk about … well, it is kind of related to that.”

“Related to what?”

“Home. I know you haven’t been feeling yourself lately.”

He looked at me intently then.

“And I think I know why.” I waited for him to give me permission to go on. He didn’t say anything more, though, so I faltered. “Um … so yeah. Well … Maybe I should tell you a story.”

Dad ran his fingers through his hair. “Is this about what happened last month? Because I don’t—”

“Sure, Dad. But that’s where the story ends. It’s not the beginning.”

I watched the replay of last month’s events in his eyes, the panic of seeing me in the water, the terror of seeing the monster his dad had warned him about, the uncertainty of not knowing what to do. “Do I want to hear this?” he asked.

“I’m hoping you already know what I’m going to tell you.”

He shook his head and started to stand up. “Your mother needs some help packing. We want to leave by five.”

I caught his hand when he was halfway up. “Sit down, Dad. This is important. You need to hear this before you leave.”

He collapsed with a sigh into his chair and ran his finger up and down one of the grooves in the white plastic table. “Fine, Lily. You talk. But I can’t promise to listen.”

I pulled my chair up to his, bringing our knees together. The skin on his hands was dry and cracked. I rubbed my finger over my own knuckles a few times, looking for the words to start. “Okay, so, once upon a time …”

He raised his eyebrows, and I looked into his eyes. How many times had this situation been reversed? Him reading me a bedtime story that began exactly this way. My story wasn’t starting the way he expected.

“There was a woman named Nadia. She lived on Lake Superior, or I should say, she lived in the lake.”

His lips tightened in response.

“Dad, remember that story Jack told us around the
campfire? The one about the mermaids who walked around like regular people?”

“That’s just a story, Lily.”

“That was Nadia,” I said. “Nadia had children. Three daughters. And a son.”

Dad closed his eyes and sighed in resignation. “You’re right, Lily. I do know what you’re telling me. I saw it. And him. That boy. That … 
thing
. Calder.” He said his name like a curse. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Calder is this Nadia’s son?” He shook his head to clear the impossible image of the mermaids from his memory.

“No, Dad. Not Calder.
You
. You are Nadia’s son.”

The words hung there. In the air. Hovering. Like a soap bubble waiting to pop.

“No,” he said.

“Dad, just listen to what I’m—”

“No,”
he said again. This time louder. He nearly growled. “I know who my mother was.”

I nodded and bowed my head. I’d always known Grandma would be the biggest obstacle to making him believe. “Dad, I don’t know what Grandpa told Grandma, but after what you saw last month, you have to realize that Grandpa wasn’t crazy after all. He kept the truth a secret from you because he must have thought he was protecting you.”

Dad pressed his fists against his forehead. “You’re being preposterous.”

I could tell it was just as Calder had predicted: Not believing and not wanting to believe
were
two different things, and in that moment they were battling to the death in my dad’s head.