Matter of Truth, A (18 page)

Cameron and Molly’s apartment is nice—homey, albeit dusty
and mostly knickknack free, which makes sense since they left it behind years
ago. It’s a four-bedroom, so there’s more than enough room for us all,
including Erik. And since we came with a duffle bag each of clothes and
personal items, I get to work right away with replacing key items, not to
mention clean sheets, bath towels, and toilet paper.

“You’re quite handy to have around,” Will tells me after he
requests a hand duster. Nell snuffs at my new creation. “Although we still need
to go to the store soon for food and the like.” I laugh at this, but then he
says, more seriously, “Don’t you have a phone call you need to go make?”

It’s pathetic to admit, but, despite my overwhelming need to
hear his voice, see his face, I’ve so far avoided texting Jonah. There’s this
fear that I’ll only distract him during a mission that requires him focusing on
his safety, but if I’m being honest, I’m also terrified of finally standing
trial for the choices I’ve made over the last year.

No, that’s not fair. Jonah isn’t the sort who’d judge me,
but he certainly has every right to have the opportunity to hear what I have to
say and have his say in return. And Kellan deserves that chance, too. I haven’t
been fair to either of them.

I haven’t been fair to myself.

“Look,” Will says, setting the newly made duster down on a
nearby kitchen counter, “if you aren’t ready, you don’t need to make the phone
call.” He props his hip against the granite. “This Jonah of yours deserves a
proper apology and explanation. If you’re not in the right frame of mind to do
so, then I suggest you wait until you know you’ll be able to do a bang-up job.”

I don’t take offense at what he’s saying. If anything, I’m
excruciatingly grateful that Will’s brutal honesty acts as a firmly yet
lovingly placed reality check. “I appreciate that, but I’ve waited long
enough.” I twist my hair up and tie it back with a rubber band I create. Then I
bend down and scratch Nell’s belly. She flops over, kicking a leg. “I wish you
could have this talk, too.”

He knows what I mean. A long breath escapes him as he plants
both hands against the counter. “You know what? I wish I could, too.” His head
tilts toward me, a low, bitter laugh passing through his full lips as he tugs
on his ear. “As tough as it will be for you, at least you have the comfort of
knowing, good or bad, when you guys talk, it’ll be . . .” I watch his eyes
close, his shaggy hair swing side-to-side as he groans. “If I were to confront
Becca, tell her how I felt—still feel about what she did—it’d be pointless, you
know? Within a few hours, she’d forget, and we’d be back at square one the next
day.”

I could fix this, I think. Cora could fix this for me. I
could send her to Glasgow and nobody would ever know that I’ve called in a
personal favor. She could heal Becca, and maybe Will would finally have his closure.

Only, Cora and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the
moment since I abandoned her, too. Dammit.

Will pushes my cheap Alaskan cell phone toward me. I say his
name, load that one word with love and questions, but he picks the duster back
up. I watch him leave the kitchen, his shoulders stiff and weighted down.

Someday, I promise him silently, I will help you like you’ve
helped me.

In my new bedroom, as I turn my new
phone over in my hands, I wonder if my old phone is still in my old apartment. Wonder
if that apartment is even mine anymore, and what happened to all of my stuff.
Did Jonah leave everything there, hoping someday I’d come back? Box it all up
and put it in storage, not knowing what else to do? Sell it in a fit of anger
and betrayal? Surely my parents don’t have my things, as they made it clear
that I was out of their lives.

But all that stuff? They’re just things. Whether or not I
get them back . . . I’ve made my peace with letting them go, except for
possibly the ring I took off my finger before running. Jonah’s what matters.
Jonah and Kellan and all the people I love whom I left behind.

Zthane says Jonah ought to be en route back to Annar
sometime in the morning, which means I can’t let this go on any longer. As Will
pointed out, good or bad, I need to explain to him what I did, and how I feel.
Starting with:
Hi, it’s Chloe. I’m back in Annar. If you have time, can I
see you and Kellan tomorrow?

It’s lame and fairly ambiguous, but texting my feelings to
him isn’t going to solve anything. I chew my lip until it’s bloody during the
three minutes it takes for Jonah to answer, consoling myself but petting Nell.
We’ll
be in Annar in 16 hrs. Where are you?

This is the part I dread—admitting I’m staying with someone
else. But I do. I tell him I’m at a friend’s, including the address. And I
don’t know why it surprises me when he’s clinical with his answer, but it does.

10am okay?

It’s just so—I don’t know. Normal. Like I haven’t been away
for half a year after abandoning him. But he’s extremely guarded with his
emotions, meaning there’s no way he’s going to show any of his hands to me
right now, especially in a text.

I know him well enough to know this.

So I tell him ten o’clock is fine, even though it’s only 2
hours after he’s supposed to return. And then I prepare myself for a long night
of nervous waiting.

The bedsprings creak as Will slides
under the covers next to me, shoving Nell to the side. I quickly wipe at my
eyes, even though I know there’s no way he can see me in this darkness.

“Dad’s snoring sounds like a buzz saw,” he tells me quietly.
“Erik’s fighting him on that front, matching snore for snore. Would it be too
much to ask you for a pair of sound-cancelling headphones?”

I let out a gurgly laugh and do exactly as he asks.
“Anything for you.”

“Cheers.” He takes the headphones from me and is silent for
a long moment. “This is surreal, you know.”

I can’t help but razz him. “What, us in bed together? Should
we torture Frieda by sending her a picture of us?”

He lets out an exhaled chuckle. And then, more seriously,
“I—Christ. I feel a little lost, Chloe. Like I’m in over my head.”

I fumble in the dark for his hand so I can squeeze it.

“Dad and Erik, they’re—this is nothing to them. This is old
hat. The same with you. I felt like a bloody alien today when we were at the
hospital. A freak. All this—” He waves around in the dark with his free hand.
“I’m a fish out of water. Maybe Mum and Dad had a point after all.”

“You’ve been here for less than a day. I know it’s got to be
a lot to take in. I’m overwhelmed being back, too.” I squeeze his hand once
more and let go. “But we’ll get through this together.”

The two of us are silent for a long time, listening to the
dueling snores of Cameron and Erik through the door, Nell’s deep breathing, and
the sounds of life outside the window. In this small bedroom, in this bed, it’s
like we’re in an in-between world of our own. My mistakes, his unknown
history—all of it is outside those walls.

“I’m scared,” I admit out loud to the both of us.

“You’d be daft not to be.” He lets out a long sigh. “I wish
I could promise you that it’d turn out okay tomorrow, but I won’t lie to you
like that. But I will promise that Dad and I will be right here with you, no
matter what happens. You’re not alone anymore.”

I don’t think I slept for more than ten minutes the night
before. It shows, too—as I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, I marvel at
just how dark the bags under my eyes are and just how fried my hair looks. I
briefly debate running out and getting a box of hair color to re-dye it back to
its natural state, but if I’m honest with myself, I know I’d only be risking
making it look worse. It’s best if I just hold tight and find somebody local to
fix it for me.

But that leaves me anxious, knowing the first time I see
Jonah and Kellan in half a year, they’re going to realize, right off the bat,
that I purposely tried to hide myself by altering my looks. My colored contacts
are gone, true, but there’s no way to hide the fact my hair is significantly
shorter and white-blonde.

I wonder what they’re thinking right now, what they’re
feeling. If they’ve slept at all or if they suffered through the night,
wondering about all the possibilities of today, too.

I wonder what they’ll say.

If they’ll forgive me.

If I’ll ever forgive myself.

Erik left ten minutes ago, claiming
he wants no part of my drama. I totally get it and don’t blame him for taking
off. Cameron and Will have offered to stay in the apartment and hang out in the
back bedrooms where Nell is contained, just in case I need them. Even still,
now that it’s a few minutes before ten a.m., the urge to run out of the door
and not look back is tempting because my heart is hammering down on stubborn
nails inside my chest. I briefly debate whether or not to construct a shield,
but it’s a crutch I can’t fall back on. From here on out, no matter where the
chips may fall, I’ve got to be honest not only with myself but with both Jonah
and Kellan. It’s only fair.

So not only am I nervous as all hell, I’m also terrified and
excited and a handful of other nuanced emotions. Nervous I’ll hurt them again
with my truths. Excited because this’ll be the first time I’ve seen either man
in over six months. Terrified that they won’t forgive me for what I’ve done.
Overwhelmed by all the changes in my life, even though I’ve been the architect
behind them.

Will calls me over to the small dining room table and holds
out a shot of tequila. Only, it’s retracted when I go to grab it. “One for
courage,” he warns. “Just know I refuse to go through any sort of alcohol
poisoning shenanigans again.”

As much as I wish I could get drunk right now, it’d be the
worst thing I could do. I tug the glass out of his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ve
learned that lesson.”

He picks up his shot, warm laughter filling the space
between us. “Cheers to new beginnings.” His grin slides into a smirk.
“Preferably non-vomit-y ones.”

I sigh, but it’s loving exasperation. “Just clink already,
will you?”

Our glasses come together in a brief chime of hopes and
promises and another chorus of cheers. The tequila burns on its way down, but
it’s warm and fortifying.

He eyes me over the glass. “You look green, and not in one
of those Goblin ways.” When he purposely takes a giant step backwards, I reach
out to swat him.

“It’s the tequila, you prat.”

His wide grin reforms. “Listen to you. I’ll make you an
honorary Scot after all.”

The doorbell chimes, and I send a plea to the tequila in my
belly to start working its magic. Because my heart has redoubled its efforts to
hammer a hole straight out of my chest. And, damn Will for being right, I do
feel a bit nauseated.

“I’ve got it,” Cameron calls out from the kitchen. Footsteps
sound along the dark hardwood floors, and I know, just know, that I’m going to
pass out and make an even bigger jackass out of myself.

“Alright. Just one more.” Another shot is shoved toward me;
I gratefully down it as he follows suit.

I don’t know what to do with myself. Where to stand. Should
I stand? Sit? Should I go to another room and make an entrance? Should I—

Wait. Cameron steps into the living room, and he’s sheet
white. If anybody’s going to throw up right now, my money’s on him. And this
does not make sense.

Will removes the shot glass from my fingers and adds it next
to his on the table. I nudge his arm and whisper under my breath that
something’s wrong with his dad. But before he can say anything, in walks Astrid
Lotus, followed by her daughter, Callie. And then, with identical expressions
that radiate uncertainty, first Jonah, then Kellan appear.

I’m pretty sure my heart bursts straight out of my chest.
That handful of emotions I was feeling earlier explodes into a cacophony that I
can no longer decipher. He’s here, they’re here, and—

And I still have no idea what to do. I don’t want to start
straight off with another round of apologies—even though they’re absolutely
deserved—because that’s all I ever seemed to say to them. But they deserve to
hear the truth. It’s just, I didn’t know it’d be in front of an audience. Which
is a selfish thought, because I’m in the wrong, and I’ve got to be the one to
start making amends, whether in front of one of them at a time or the entirety
of Annar. If they felt the need to bring along Astrid and Callie, then who am I
to complain?

Still, it’s hard to really look at either man right now, not
like I want to, even though the pulls toward them both are so strong it’s a
miracle I’m even standing. Because there’s confusion there, and oh, gods, hurt,
so much hurt and expectations, and all of a sudden, I feel even worse about
myself than I did ten minutes ago when I’d only felt like the lousiest girl to
ever exist.

Especially since a glance at Jonah’s hand shows no sign of
his Connection ring.

Cameron motions toward the worn couch and chairs in the room
and offers everyone a seat. Callie and Kellan choose to sit; Jonah remains
standing, arms crossed, but he’s close to the couch. Cameron and Astrid are
standing in the midway point between me and Will and her children.

Jonah’s hair is a bit longer than when I left. It
irrationally bothers me that this happened and I didn’t know about it. He’s got
dark circles under his eyes, too, and I ache for him, for the hell he must have
gone through this last week. Our eyes lock together, and he asks a silent
question that has my hands twisting together and regret surging through my
bloodstream.

He asks me why I did it. And also possibly why my hair is
blonde.

All I can think is: oh, sweet gods above, I love this man
with everything that makes me me, and this feeling is so strong that it nearly
knocks me off my feet.

I take a deep breath and a step forward at the same time,
but I skid to a halt when Astrid says, “You took me by surprise. You have to
admit, this would be the last place I’d ever expect to see you again.”

My eyes fly to her, my stomach sinking. She’d loved me once.
Protected me. And I’d failed her just as surely as I failed everyone else when
I bolted.

“Yes, well, the same could be said for you,” Cameron
murmurs, and then my eyes snap straight to him. Huh?

Astrid delicately clears her throat. “How have you been,
Cam? You look well.”

I turn to Will, who is now watching his father and Astrid
with utter confusion. And then I look back at the man who has become my
surrogate father, and the woman who became the twins’ surrogate mother.

Because they know each other. And I did not see that one
coming.

“
Cam?
Who the fuck calls him Cam?” is what Will says.
I think it’s angled at me, but as his eyes are riveted on his dad and Astrid, I
can’t be sure.

They ignore him. “Good,” Cameron murmurs to Astrid, tugging
at his collar. It’s his turn to clear his throat. “And you?”

Astrid smoothes her knotted-up side braid with a trembling
hand. “Also good.” She motions toward him. “The beard is . . . it’s different.”

His eyes widen.

“I like it,” she hastily adds. “It’s just . . . it’s been a
long time.”

“Cheers. You look well. Like you haven’t aged a bit. But
then, I guess it’s always been that way, hasn’t it?” I’ve never seen Cameron
appear so uncomfortable.

It’s then I notice that Kellan’s
tugging on the bracelet he always wears as he stares at the woman he considers
to be his mother in confusion. It sounds weird, but this little action, the one
that lets me know he’s uncomfortable with something, makes me want to cry
because it’s so familiar. Gods, I’ve missed him.

He must sense these feelings rolling around me, because he
looks away from Astrid to where I’m standing. When our eyes finally meet each
other, the sharp pull of the Connection between us wicks the air straight out
of my lungs. Oh, does he look good. Tired, sad, confused . . . but so, so
gorgeous.

I blink and look away first. I need to get control over my
feelings for him if I’m ever going to be able to make amends to any of them.
Stupidly, even just a half hour ago, I thought it might be . . . not easy, but
easier than before, simply because I know what I want now.

But no. All those feelings I had for him before are just as
strong as always.

Nearby, Astrid’s smile is tremulously fragile as she shifts
her attention to where Will and I are standing. “I am so pleased to see you
home safe and sound, Chloe.” In the next few seconds, I’m surrounded by the
best kind of motherly hug I’ve ever felt. My arms don’t know what to do. I loop
them around her, but it’s like they aren’t worthy to hug her back, let alone hear
these kind words.

She squeezes me, the scent of violets strong and reassuring
before she lets go. “And I am so pleased to see you again, William, although
I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

I know I ought to be focusing on righting my wrongs right
now, but I’m sorry. Cameron wins for my immediate attention when he coughs
again, shoving his hands into his pockets, looking like he’s in the most
uncomfortable situation of his life.

Will’s dark eyes flash at his father. “Did she just say what
I think she just said?”

Astrid frowns, confused, and the WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON
HERE siren is going off at full blast in this room. “He’s lovely,” she says to
Cameron, who apparently doesn’t know what to say. “I see so much of the both of
you in him.”

I briefly catch the confusion on both Callie and Kellan’s
faces as my eyes make their way to Jonah’s. There’s another silent question for
me. I think it’s:
what the hell is going on?

Which is an excellent question.

“What the hell is going on?” Will wisely demands for all the
rest of us in the room.

Cameron and Astrid have a silent, anguished stare-off,
graduating what was once the worlds’ most awkward moment to the universe’s.
Something passes between them, and abruptly, all my shit feels pretty
insignificant to whatever’s going on with these two.

Finally, to me and Will, he says, “Astrid and I . . .” He
scratches at his beard. “We go way back.”

“What’s this?” Callie says from her perch on the couch at
the same time Will says, “What the hell?”

The twins remain silent. They’re smart. I’m stupid, because
I ask, “What does that mean,
go way back?
”

An undecipherable look passes between them before Astrid
says, “I grew up with William’s mother, Molly. She was my childhood best
friend. Our families even immigrated to the Human plane together.”

Did not see that one coming, either.

“Technically,” Astrid says, her smile nearly breakable, “I’m
your godmother, William.”

And . . . the surprises keep coming.

“Excuse me?” he asks at the same time Callie barks from the
couch, “Excuse me?”

“Wait,” Kellan says, wading into this mess, “so you know
these nons?”

Ohh, his voice is so good to hear again.

“Yes, this!” Callie juts an accusing finger toward her
mother and Cameron.

Will glares over at Kellan and Callie, no doubt irritated by
the use of
non
. I swat at him before he can start a fight, though, which
earns me a glare. And a further silent question from Jonah.

I let out a frustrated sigh. I so badly just want to grab
Jonah’s hand and drag him into my bedroom or, hell, even the hallway—Kellan’s,
too—but in light of what’s going on with the people I consider to be family
now, that’d only prove my selfishness.

Astrid answers her children, her words soft and sad.
“Cameron was married to my best friend. Of course I know him.” She pauses.
“William is like you, Callie. His Elvin heritage from his mother is Magical.
And his father is . . .” She bites her lip, her smile so bittersweet. “Human.
Kellan? Don’t let me hear you say
non
like that again, like it’s an
insult. Are we clear?”

Kellan rolls his eyes, which clearly rubs Will the wrong
way. He snaps, “
Métis
. We half-breed freaks have a fancy name all to
ourselves, or do you not know? Oh, wait. Obviously, by the fucking disgusted
tone of your voice, you don’t care, right?”