Midnight Ruling (13 page)

Cooper opened his mouth to interrupt, perhaps to correct my lie, but my dad stepped in. “Thank you, Cooper. I appreciate you bringing my daughter home. But, as you can see, we need to have a family discussion,” he said, eyes level with Cooper’s. Cooper was instantly cowed.

This was the type of reaction, I’d realized, that Cooper had been hoping for. He shook my dad’s hand and uttered a soft good-bye to me without making eye contact and ducked out the door.

Locking it after him, Mom began again. Her eyes were seething in a way that I knew this wouldn’t be an open and shut discussion. “What were you thinking? Sneaking out at night?”

“I was thinking you wouldn’t let me out,” I said, taking a note from my dad’s book and keeping my voice steady and calm. This was an inane argument anyway. The sooner she got her voice heard, the sooner I could go to bed. And the sooner I could think of an alternative. I’d wasted so much time already.

“….you bet we wouldn’t, and I have a mind not to let you out again. You’re grounded,” she whisper-shrieked.

“Mom,” I said softly, “I’m an adult. You can’t ground me.”

“Like hell I can’t!” she snapped. “You live in my house. It’s my rules. If you can’t abide by them, Miss Adult, then I suggest you live elsewhere.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but my energy had been depleting over the last hour. I didn’t have the time or the mindset to argue with this woman—the Master of Arguments.

I glanced at Dad, but he was staring at the floor as he leaned against the wall behind Mom. His silence stung more than Mom’s screaming. He wouldn’t even look at me.

The yelling continued in the doorway for some time. Breaks only occurred when someone had to shout at Mona to get back to bed. I was sure that the neighbors were all up by now.

Turning away from them both, I removed my footwear and started for the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Mom hissed.

“Upstairs,” I answered.

“We are not finished.” She started after me.

I didn’t turn around and kept walking, feeling numb. If Damien was hurting Aidan right now, I’d kill him. Why didn’t he take me instead?

“Nora Jean!” Mom’s voice rang through the house, and I heard Caitlin give a cry.

Spinning around, I glowered at her. “Do you mind? I had a crappy night. Yes, I snuck out, and no, I’m not sorry. I can’t be trapped in this house forever, you know. Besides, despite your better judgment, I am an adult, and it looks like I have some packing to do.”

“You don’t understand,” Dad spoke up.

I paused, watching him, and so did Mom. Her scarlet face began to soften.

“We lost one daughter. Then when you disappeared and show back up with bruises and no recollection of what happened…it tore…we thought it was happening all over again.” He still wouldn’t look right at me.

Mom had tears in her eyes and turned back to me. It was as if he had flipped a switch in her head. She reached up to me and hugged me so tightly that I realized I underestimated her strength for years. “We’re just scared, Nora,” she sniffled into my shoulder.

My anger sapped away, replaced by a heavy layer of guilt.

Caitlin’s shrieks could be heard upstairs, and it took all I had not to let the tears spring to my own eyes.

Their fear was warranted. They knew what might happen, in a way. If I left, what would happen to them? I hugged Mom back. “I’m sorry,” I said in her ear.

Mona came out to the stairs again, long chestnut hair in tangles down her back. “Mom?” she asked, gripping the railing and looking to each of us. “What’s wrong?”

Mom let me go and went for Mona. “Nothing, sweetie. Go back to bed. I have to get Caitlin.”

Mona didn’t appear to enjoy this answer but was too tired to argue. She gave Dad and me one last cautious glance before shuffling back to her room in oversized slippers that used to be mine. I’d never given them to her, but Mona had a way of claiming things when they weren’t used. At least she wasn’t old enough to wear my clothes.

I glanced over my shoulder at Dad. “I’m sorry.”

“Where’s the book?” he asked.

Taken back, I gaped at him for a second. I didn’t have it; I must have left it in the clearing. “It’s lost.”

“Lost?”

I nodded. “I can’t find it.”

“You better not be lying to me.” His hard gaze finally met mine.

I shook my head, wanting to please him, to take that look off of his face. “I’m not. Search me, search my room, you won’t find it.”

“Did you read it?”

“Yes.”

“I told you it didn’t make any sense,” he said, stony and frighteningly still.

I stared at him, unsure of how to respond. It’s like he knew I was trying whatever was in the book. Not wanting to admit to anything, my lips pinched together.

“What’s that?” He motioned to me.

Confused, I looked down at my sweater and soaked bottom half of my jeans.

“In your pocket.”

The envelope
, I thought in dread and reached back to feel the paper sticking out of my jeans. “Nothing,” I said, already knowing the single word wouldn’t be enough.

Dad held out his hand.

If I refused to give it to him, I wondered what he’d do. Part of me wanted to test it while the other was too tired to care. What would a note mean to this man anyway?

Handing over the envelope, Dad turned it over in his hand before opening it.

I didn’t try to stop him but grabbed the railing for balance, feeling a lump forming in my throat.

“Forget,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“It’s Hungarian,” Dad said and looked up from the paper. “Don’t you remember your grandma speaking it? You and…your sister used to talk to her when you were really little.”

“Some words,” I admitted, “but never spelling.” And I’d forgotten most of the language.

“This isn’t yours?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Found it.”

“Where?”

I shrugged. The truth was too far-fetched, and my mind wasn’t as sharp at three in the morning. Besides, I was wondering if Aidan figured it out and never told me.

Dad handed the letter back and said, “go to bed. And stay there this time, will you?”

Turning, still wounded from the night, I headed for my room. I didn’t dare look back over my shoulder at him again. Could he have known?
Could
he know about the Demon’s Grave? Nell seemed well versed.

In the darkness of my room, I changed out of the damp clothes and into warm pajamas. Slipping under my covers, I kicked the pillows and extra blankets onto the floor. I wouldn’t sleep right away despite how desperately tired I felt.

I rubbed my arm where Cooper’d grabbed me; it felt sore and would probably bruise by the morning. Though compared to the bruises and scrapes from before, this was chicken feed.

Setting the red envelope to the side, I took a deep breath.

The girl in the vision had said to ‘forget them’ and left me that note. Why tell me and then write it down? It didn’t make any sense.

I glanced to my dresser for the Robin doll and felt my insides roll.

She wasn’t alone.

Beside her was a dark-haired boy of the same height and shape. The undeniable pallid features and grey, hooded eyes were indisputable.

It was Read Wallace.

I woke up leaning against my headboard. My neck was angled to the side, and drool wet the side of my face. The orange sunlight barely stretched through the open curtains of my bedroom. The alarm clock read: 6:02 a.m.

Rubbing my neck, I gradually moved, feeling the intense aches, and wiped my mouth. Squinting, I glanced to the dolls to see they now faced the wall. Unnerved by the idea that they could move, I forgot about the cricks in my body and slid down into my protective covers.

Lying there, I thought through yesterday’s events.

Through my tiredness, I stayed awake and tried to find a way to right my wrong. I also managed, in my contemplation, to slap self-pity around whenever it decided to do a little dance number. Every new idea was rickety at best. I could always go back to the Birket house and see if the door reappeared.
Hope, hope, hope.

“Please make this easier on me, Damien,” I told the dolls, afraid to look away in case they moved while I watched.

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

After a few minutes, Mom came upstairs to knock on my door. I contemplated not speaking, hoping she’d go away. Whoever was here, I didn’t want to talk to them.

Despite my mute response, she opened the door a crack. “Nora?” she whispered, even though she saw I was awake. “Your friend from last night is here.”

It took me several seconds to realize she was talking about Cooper.

Groaning, I pulled the covers around me tighter. “I don’t want to talk to him,” I said.

With a huff, Mom rushed into the room. She grabbed the sheets and wretched them from my grip. The air was so much colder, and I curled up like a snail.

“Well, he came because he was worried about you. I think you owe him something.”

What she meant was
she
owed him something. She did go mama-bear on him last night, which was justified, I suppose.

Cringing with the sudden chill, I said, “I really don’t…”

“Hurry up.” She motioned to my dresser but thankfully didn’t look at it and the dolls before marching out into the hallway. She left the door open, a strategy she knew would get me out of bed.

Dragging myself to my feet, I closed it and changed into khaki shorts and a black tank top. Didn’t he know to leave me alone yet? I pulled my hair back in a ponytail.

I doubted he was here out of concern. He wanted to ask about last night. Bet he was up all night thinking about it, trying to create some logical explanation. Maybe he’d already driven back to the clearing just to see it in the daytime.

Plodding into the kitchen where I heard voices, I stopped in the doorway. I didn’t think I could have hidden my surprise to see both Cooper and Claire at the table with my mother.

By the looks of them, they’d both been up all night.

Cooper’s dark blonde hair was in a bowl shape on his head, the ends curled up as if he’d been wearing a hat over greasy hair. Knowing my mom, she would’ve made him remove it. His eyes were puffy, and he wore the same clothes as last night. The plaid blue shirt and black t-shirt were both wrinkled.

Claire had tried, though. Her hair was swept up in a messy bun that still looked good. She wore an expensive-looking dark grey blouse that molded to her shape and skin-tight jeans. Her make up was minimal for a change. Claire’s eyes always drooped in a sultry fashion, but today she fought fatigue, judging by the bags under her eyes.

Upon seeing me, the polite conversation stopped.

Claire’s frowned deepened, as if weights had attached to the corners of her full mouth.

Cooper nodded. “Hi, Nora.”

“Hey,” I said, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”

Claire hugged herself so tight her fake nails left marks in her porcelain skin. She averted her eyes at my question.

Mom stood up with her mug of tea. “I’ll be in the backyard if you guys need me,” she said and smiled at the two guests. She tossed me a warning glance before heading to the back hallway and out into the yard.

I took her place at the table, not speaking until I heard the door close.

“You two need something?”

Facing each other squarely, no one spoke at first.

Finally, Claire twitched, as if she couldn’t take it anymore. “I think we should tell the police.”

Part of me wanted to intimidate her into backing down, but something told me Claire wasn’t easily intimidated. Either way, I didn’t want to have this conversation, and they needed to go.

Propping my elbows on the table, I clamped my temples between my palms. “Tell them what exactly?”

She blinked as if I were slow.

I flourished a hand in her direction. “Tell them what?” I felt the corner of my mouth tug in a sarcastic smile. “He was struck by lightning and disintegrated?”

“Well…” Claire started to blink rapidly as the wheels started to turn.

“That’s what happened,” Cooper intervened.

I nodded. “Yup.” Couldn’t argue with the truth unless you weren’t there. “You’ll also get accused of kidnapping. Lightning destroying a human doesn’t actually happen.” It was too hard not to sound smug.

“Is that a threat?” Cooper asked, leaning forward.

“I didn’t kidnap my friends. You’re both stupid for thinking so,” I snapped.

The two of them deliberated via eye contact.

“Anything else before you go?” I asked, hating their silent transaction.

Claire pouted her full lower lip laced with peach flavored lip balm; I could smell it from where I sat. “I’ll go to the police then. By myself, I’m not afraid.”

“Good luck,” I snickered, sounding like a complete ass. “I’ll deny everything. I don’t have time to be pestered by this. They won’t believe you. Instead, it’ll make you a suspect. You think they won’t pick up that Aidan is missing? They’ll probably have you drug tested.”

Claire jolted. “What?”

“It’s a crazy story that cannot possibly happen,” I pointed out. “Even if it is true, they’ll think you’re lying.”

Claire’s nails bit harder into her arms, and she looked away.

“Mail!” I heard Mona’s little voice from the front door before she slammed it shut.

Mona came into the kitchen, her arms full of flyers and a single cardboard box. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the two guests at the table. “Who are you?” she immediately questioned, eyes narrowing.

I smiled. I loved her abrasive greetings sometimes; she got that from our mother.

When they realized I wasn’t going to start introductions, Cooper answered. “This is Claire, and I’m Cooper. We’re friends of your sister.”

Mona glanced at me for confirmation. I shrugged at her and held out my hands for the mail. “Mom is in the backyard. What are you doing home today?”

“I got to stay home from school,” she said proudly. “You should stay out late more often.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

“Nicely played,” I said.