The Girl and The Raven (20 page)

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Authors: Pauline Gruber

BOOK: The Girl and The Raven
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“Why do you want to know?” Katie asks, a deep frown creasing her forehead, making her look about as vicious as a teddy bear. She shrinks down in her seat as he gives her the coldest stare I’d ever seen.

“I’m Lucy,” I announce, annoyed he’s trying to intimidate my friend. “Why do you want to know?”

“Ah, she’s got attitude. Nice!” He laughs. His two friends join in.

Suzy frowns at the three of them. Caroline’s eyes are glued to the table. Most surprising is Ella. She shrinks down in her seat, her lips pressed thin. Her hands clasped in her lap.

“I’m Jack. These are my friends, Matt and Troy. We’re here to welcome you to St. Aquinas.” He speaks slowly, as if he thinks I have trouble understanding English. “If there’s ever anything you need, I’m the guy to talk to.”

“Why would I need anything from you?” I speak just as slowly, my voice dripping with disdain.

“Nice hillbilly accent!” Matt snickers.

Jack jerks his head toward him. “Shut up, you idiot,” he says through clenched teeth before turning back to me.

“How’s your friend, Dylan?” There’s no concern in his expression. Matt and Troy chuckle behind him.

What do these guys know about Dylan? I have a painful knot building in my stomach. My hands start to tremble and grow warm. I press my hands to my thighs.
Not here. Please, God, not now.

“Why do you ask?” I ask, trying to sound calm.

Jack leans toward me, resting his hands on the table. “I don’t think his daddy’s gonna be able to buy his way out of the mess he’s in.”

“What mess is that, exactly?” I fix him with the coldest expression I can manage. My fists curl beneath the table, my palms tingling. Just one touch and I could shock that smugness off his face.

He cocks his head and stares at me for a moment, then pushes himself away from the table. “See you around.”

The three of them turn, chests puffed out, and strut from the room. Several kids jump out of the way.

“What was that all about?” Katie whispers, ducking to avoid being heard.

“I don’t know.” My mind races. These guys are scary, but I think they’re only the messengers. My guess is that Jude’s behind it. I’m suddenly terrified for Dylan.

 

* * * *

 

So far Dylan hasn’t responded to any of my texts. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep after everything that’s happened today.

There’s a soft knock at the door and Sheldon pokes his head in. “Hey kiddo. Do you have a few minutes?”

“Sure.” I scoot over so he can sit down.

I’m surprised by the pained expression on his face. The moonlight coming through the window illuminates the left side of his face. He looks angelic.

“As your uncles and guardians, sometimes it’s hard for Bernard and me to gauge what we should tell you.” His smile is strained. “You’re a smart girl, Lucy, and you’ve always been so responsible…You have a lot of your grandmother in you.”

It’s the first time anyone has said that to me. I smile and grab his hand. “What is it, Sheldon?”

“You’ve been asking about your mom since you arrived and, more recently, about your dad.” He looks across the room for a moment and squeezes my hand. “You’re not a little girl anymore. So I’m going to tell you what I know.”

I sit up straight and look Sheldon right in the eye.

“You know about Zack …”

Uncle Zack. Incredibly smart, but socially awkward. Diagnosed in his teens with Aspergers Syndrome.

After acing all of his classes at Northwestern Law School, Zack landed a job with a top Chicago law firm. Three years later, at the age of twenty-eight, he fell off a boat in Lake Michigan. His body was recovered a week later when it floated ashore.

The official cause of death was accidental drowning.

“Your mom took it really hard when Zack died. She got mixed up with a group of people who were bad news, started drinking and doing drugs. It was a bad time for everyone.” His brow creases deeply. It takes a moment for him to continue. “Then she met a guy. At first, we thought it was a good thing, but after a while it was like she was addicted to this guy instead of the drugs. She was so edgy whenever they were apart. Then they’d get together and she’d come home so happy—euphoric, even.” He shakes his head.

“Did you ever meet this guy?” I think back to Momma’s letters and already know the answer.

“She wouldn’t allow any of us to meet him or even tell us his name, but she talked about him constantly.”

He looks at me then, his expression dazed, as if even now he doesn’t understand what happened.

“When she got pregnant, she was so happy. I’d always heard a woman glows during pregnancy, but this was the first time I’d seen it.”

“We all hoped the bad times were behind her, but as time went by and we still hadn’t met Mr. Wonderful, we couldn’t help but worry.”

“Mr. Wonderful didn’t marry your mom.” His posture slumps and his bottom lip pokes out a little. He looks so sad. “He left her high and dry and…”

“And what?”

In the past, this is where Sheldon would take off his glasses and methodically clean them using the bottom of his t-shirt. His way to buy time. Instead he rubs his eyes with his fists and lets out a low, mournful sigh.

“Please, Sheldon, what happened next?”

“I don’t know any other way to say it, kiddo.” He looks as sad as I’ve ever seen him. “She just…lost it.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.

“She seemed to lose her mind. Literally. Her life revolved around him and when he left, it was like her mind…and her will to live…went with him.”

I really don’t want to hear anymore.

“Your mom stopped going to work, stopped eating… everything. She was worse than depressed. She couldn’t think straight. She had nightmares. She became paranoid. After several attempts to get her help, she finally accepted. After six months of intense counseling, she was better.” Sheldon rubs his hands on his jeans. “Notice I said better and not
fine
. She decided to move to Tennessee. The counselor agreed that it would be best for her to get away from Chicago. Away from him.”

I draw my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, trying to stop shaking, or at least hide it. Sheldon slides over to me, pulls me into a hug. “You know I love you, right? More than anything?”

I nod against his shoulder. After a moment, he pulls away.

“Did Momma ever hear from him again? My father?”

“Not as far as I know.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

Sheldon shrugs off his sadness and his expression hardens. “Whoever that guy is he lost out, Lucy. He lost out on knowing you. You’re pretty amazing and Bernard and I feel lucky to have you here…never mind that it’s next to impossible to keep a full fridge with you around.

I return his strained smile. He kisses the top of my head then leaves.

I huddle under the blanket and shiver. I don’t know if Jude killed Gram, but there’s no way around the fact that he killed Momma.

 

Chapter Twenty-Five

 

Images of Momma drunk and high fill my thoughts. Momma crawling on the floor because she couldn’t walk. Her bones jutting out from her corpse-like body. Her cries in the middle of the night. Her demands that I sleep with her to keep the nightmares away.

Pressing my fists against my eyes and gritting my teeth, I try to shut down my mind. It’s no good. I get dressed and sneak up to the roof.

According to Momma’s letters, Jude heavily pursued her. Why would he do that just to dump her? I recall the sound of buzzing flies, his hypnotic power. She never stood a chance against him. What about Dylan? He’s getting worse. Sheldon talked about Momma’s nightmares and hallucinations. Coincidence? Not likely. Now he’s brought trouble in the form of Seamus McAllister into my life. And Lola…guilt twists like a knife in my belly. God knows what Jude’s done to her.

I rub my arms vigorously in an attempt to stop trembling. It’s difficult to make room for sympathy when Momma bailed on taking care of me almost from day one. At least now I know why. Heck, she was barely able to take care of herself. Tears blur my vision and spill onto my cheeks.

A breeze moves through the trees, rustling leaves. I used to love that sound. Now it fills me with fear. I jump up and am about to walk toward the railing when I see a stone statue off to my right. It has to be at least three feet tall. Hard to miss, but I don’t remember seeing it before. Then again, when I’m with Marcus, I don’t really pay attention to anything else. The statue is positioned so that it shares my favorite view, watching over our street.

I run my fingers over its face. The stone is cold to the touch, the rough texture snags my skin. It has large ears and eyes and a ring through its nose. Its teeth and huge paw-like feet look feline. The blunted facial features look like a cross between a dog and a bear. The rippled muscles and large, sturdy wings are strangely comforting.

I take a seat directly beside the gargoyle, not wanting to be alone right now. Gargoyles are meant to protect, right? Maybe this one will keep me safe—from the nightmares, from Seamus, from my worries about Dylan and Lola. I rest my head against the solid stone, allowing my eyes to close for just a minute.

“Lucy.” Marcus shakes me awake. “You’re freezing. What are you doing up here?” His wings circle me and I sink against his bare chest. All at once, I am warm.

“Can’t sleep? Or are you looking for me?” With the side of my face pressed against his chest, I can hear
and
feel the words leaving his body.

“I needed to see you. How did you know?” My eyes close as he strokes my hair. I can’t share with him what I learned from Sheldon. I’m not ready for him to say he told me so.

“Can I ask you a question?” My voice is thick. The sound of his heartbeat lulls me back toward sleep.

“Yes.”

“What are you?” The words come out like a sigh.

He takes his time answering, but when he finally speaks, the velvety softness of his voice turns husky, sending a delicious shiver through me. “I’m the creature who spends his nights on the rooftop, protecting you from evil.”

“Creature?” I peek up at his face.

Marcus shrugs his wings in response. “What else would you call me?”

Realization filters into my tired brain. “Wait!” I look behind him. The stone gargoyle is gone.
Creature?
“You…you’re a
gargoyle
?”

“Are you going to run away screaming now?”

With gentle fingers, I stroke away the worry lines from his face. I feel his heartbeat quicken against my cheek.

“If you’re trying to scare me off, you’re going to have to do better than that. I face down demons, remember?”

He laughs and shakes his head.

I snuggle deeper into his embrace. His lips press against the top of my head and he sighs, as if he’s relieved now that I know. I have so many questions, but I’m drifting off.

“We need to get you back downstairs. I don’t want Sheldon and Bernard to find you gone and freak out.”

He helps me up and lifts me off my feet in one swift motion. It’s cozy and warm in his arms. I nuzzle into him, inhaling his amazing scent. Marcus carries me to the ledge and leaps off the roof, landing softly in the back yard. It’s like I weigh nothing at all.

He chuckles near my ear. “Snuck out your bedroom window, did you? I hope to never find you doing this unless it’s to see me.”

“Hmmm…we’ll see,” I murmur, expecting to hear him chuckle again. He doesn’t.

He kisses the top of my head and pushes me through my window. I give him a tired smile and push the screen down until it locks into place. Without bothering to change back into pajamas, I fall into bed. Within seconds, I am deep asleep.

It’s not long before I’m dreaming. A much younger me is at a party. Lots of people are there, even Uncle Zack, who I only know from photos. We’re at Gram’s house, the one she lived in with Grampa, when Momma and Zack were little. I recognize the pale green living room walls from photos in Gram’s albums.

Uncle Zack and I sit together, tucked in a corner of the living room. He doesn’t like crowds and there are people here that he wants to avoid. He’s happy talking to me, though, which makes me feel special. He starts telling me a story about a yacht.

He leans in periodically, his eyes roaming around the room as if looking for someone. He tells me to listen closely. It’s important. 

“Why is everyone dressed in black?” I blurt out, my voice too loud. Fortunately, no one pays any attention. “And why is that woman crying?”

“Because she’s sad, although for the life of me, I can’t figure out why.” He grimaces, shaking his head. “She was my business law professor. She never liked me, said I asked too many questions, and yet here she is crying.”

She isn’t the only one. I realize this is the saddest party I’d ever been to. I want to leave, but I don’t say so. Zack keeps talking to me, so I’m guessing he wants me to stay. “But why is she crying?”

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