Torn (Lords of the City #1) (30 page)

“It’s a great tattoo,” he explained, though I knew there was more to it than that. He couldn’t hide the yearning that saturated his eyes.

My phone buzzed, and I sighed, reading the message. “Your brother wants to have dinner with us.”

“When?”

“Tonight. At the estate. He says he’s already sent the cooks in to prepare the meal.”

“His way of forcing me to agree,” Corey said with transparent frustration.

“It’s a good idea,” I resolved. “He’s your brother. He loves you.”

Corey didn’t respond.

“You can decide later,” I said, forcing myself to look cheerful. “I’m ready to get inked.”

The woman took us behind the counter. “Who’s up first?” she asked. “It’s only me here today.”

“That’s better for us,” Corey said. “I want the feathers to be exactly alike.”

“Sure thing. How about the girl goes first, before she wets herself?”

I scowled, but emboldened by her words, I gathered my confidence and plopped down on the chair. “I’m braver than I look.”

“We’ll see,” she smirked.

After I showed her where I wanted the tattoo to go, she rubbed alcohol behind my ear, prepping my skin for the continuous drilling of the needle.

“You picked one of the most painful places to get inked,” she revealed as she stenciled the design on. “Hold onto that courage. Once you’re marked, it’s for life.”

“That’s the point,” I said but squeezed my eyes shut.

“You can handle this,” Corey said, taking my hand and holding it firmly in his.

The needle touched my skin. “Oh my holy bingo,” I screeched. It hurt. A lot. But I breathed through the pain, taking comfort that Corey was here with me, and soon it was over.

The woman held a mirror up. “What do you think?”

“Beautiful,” I said, touching it lightly though it was sore. “I’m sure my mother would have loved it.”

***

Across the dinner table, Noah kept staring at the bandage on my neck, but not with disapproval. More like intrigue. He hadn’t asked about it, but he must have known it was a new tattoo. If he’d thought I was injured, that I’d participated in anything risky with Corey, neither of us would have heard the end of it.

Unbearable silence filled the room as we picked at a roast dinner. Awkwardly, I looked around at the honey-colored walls and up at the brass chandelier where candles, not lights, were aflame. I hadn’t painted in this room, but I had cleaned the walls and polished the trimmings.

“You did a good job,” Noah praised, breaking the tension as he read my thoughts. “I never thanked you properly for the gift you’ve given my brother and me. We never should have let the manor fall into ruin.”

“You did that on your own,” Corey pounced.

Noah barely reacted, only to say, “Your absence was as equally wrongful as my neglect. The responsibility of this manor is shared.”

I agreed with Noah, but I didn’t dare say so to Corey. “Peter helped,” I told him instead. “More accurately, his girlfriend did, but he pulled a few weeds.”

“I’ll make sure I reward him,” Noah pledged.

Corey dropped his fork, seemingly irritated by the conversation. “Get to the point, brother. Why are we here?”

“Corey…” I admonished, but I held my tongue. This was between them. I wasn’t even really sure what I was doing there.

Sipping his water, Noah took a minute before he began. “I offered Imogen a role as head of my environmental department, but she declined, so I’d like to offer the same position to you. It involves travel. You’ll be doing good deeds. And the annual salary is much more than you have left in your trust fund.”

Furious, Corey pounded his fists against the table. “God, Noah, you really don’t get it, do you? I travel because I like it, but the reason I never come home is because of you. Ever since I spent that year in the hospital when we were boys, you’ve been trying to rope me into a corral. I don’t need a keeper, Noah. I need a brother. Why can’t you just be my brother?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Noah argued. “I’m looking out for you.”

“Well, stop,” Corey said, rising from the table. “I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t go,” I urged him. “You guys can work through this.”

“Can we?” Corey asked Noah. “Will you ever stop looking over my shoulder?”

My heart went out to Noah. He obviously cared very much about his brother, clinging to the bond they had once shared, but it was his downfall. “The nanotechnology we’ve been developing is close to human trials. If you can put your ways on hold for a few years, then I’m certain—”

“No,” Corey said firmly. “If I stop moving, that’s when I truly die. I don’t want to be trapped by my condition—”

He stopped and looked at me, his eyes grave, pained.

I nodded. “I know… about your condition,” I admitted.

More anger bubbled to the surface. “He told you? He had no right—”

I held out a placating hand. “It’s alright. He thought I should know.”

“None of this is alright,” he raged. “I want to live in spite of it. I’m not taunting death. I’m demanding life.”

Noah tried to object. “But—”

“There’s no use arguing. In three days, I’m heading to South America.” He turned to me. “Imogen, I want you to come with me. I know some bastard hurt you recently, so you need to take things slow. That’s fine. I just want you there.”

Fluttering, my stomach could no longer handle any food. I swallowed the carrot in my mouth down like it were stone. Speechless, I didn’t answer.

“Think about it,” Corey said and stormed off.

Tentatively, I glanced at Noah. The pain of the tattoo needle was nothing compared to the despair that clouded the air around him. I’d never seen him so dejected.

“What should I do?” I asked him, forgiving the hurt he had caused me.

He gathered his napkin from his lap and threw it on his plate. “What do you want to do?” he asked, sounding defeated.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You can speak frankly.”

“I am. South America would be the adventure of a lifetime. And I could use it as an opportunity to research the conservation practices of Latin countries,” the scientist in me rambled. “But there’s a problem.”

“What?”

“South America doesn’t have you.”

It didn’t help. If anything, it appeared to make him more distraught. “Go,” he insisted, the word raw and thick. “He won’t be as reckless if you’re with him. Look after my brother for me. Take care of him. Keep him alive long enough for me to find the answers that will heal him.”

***

“I can’t believe you’re going,” Julia pouted as we stood in our front room, trying to enjoy our last night in the apartment together. “We were supposed to have two weeks of fun, but I’ve barely seen you since Corey returned. It’s not fair that he gets to steal you away so quickly.”

“It’s a good opportunity for me,” I told her, but I was equally disappointed our reign as roomies had ended so abruptly. “But I’ll make it up to you when I get back.”

“If you come back,” she huffed. “Corey never did.”

“I’m not Corey,” I assured her. “There’s nothing I’m escaping from. I have Peter and my father to return to. And brothers I still haven’t met. And you, my sister. You most of all.”

Tears streamed down her flawless mocha cheeks, but she smiled. “You better. Who else is going to do all the work at my wedding? It’s only a matter of time before Ronald proposes.”

“I’ll be at your wedding,” I promised. “Whenever and wherever it may be.”

A knock on the door interrupted our moment. “Come in, Peter!” I shouted, recognizing his usual pattern.

Carrying a huge box of pizza, he strutted into the front room. “It’s not much of a going away party, but farewells aren’t meant to be big. When you come back, that’s when we celebrate,” he stated.

For the rest of the evening, we stuffed our face full of pepperoni and conspired about the monster robots we were certain were kept on a secret floor at Stafford Scientific. Well, I conspired. Julia and Peter listened, rolling their eyes every five minutes.

When the sun rose the next morning, I woke on the couch and furtively lifted my body off the cushions, careful not to wake Julia who slept on the other end, or Peter who drooled pepperoni grease onto the floor. Leaving my house key on the counter, I looked at my friends with the greatest of love, so thankful they were in my life.

Blowing them both a kiss, I grabbed my bags and left, having never been good with farewells, especially not when I was the one disappearing.

Colombia

V
isible from the small cargo plane Corey and I were passengers on, the landscape of Colombia was covered with lush jungle valleys and mountains that stood proud like monuments. It was exhilarating to witness firsthand nature that was so untouched and organic. The environmentalist in me was doing backflips inside.

“I can’t believe we’re here!” I shouted over the drone of the plane. “This is magnificent.”

“I knew you would like it,” Corey said from the seat across from me. His eyes danced at my reaction. “It’s stunning, but not nearly as much as you are.”

“What is the village like?” I asked, changing the focus away from me.

Prior to leaving, I hadn’t asked many questions. I was only going for Corey, to keep my promise to Noah to watch over his brother. That’s what I told myself. Corey was leading the way, and I followed, knowing only that we were headed towards a village where I could do my ecological research. In my rucksack, I had numerous empty journals, elated that I was actually out of the classroom and office and in the field once more. I wasn’t sure what Corey would be doing in that time, but I guessed it had something to do with saving the rainforest or the jaguars or something equally related to the time he’d spent in Thailand.

“You’ll see for yourself,” Corey answered. “We’re going to land in a few minutes.”

“Thank goodness! I’m starting to feel a bit air sick. Between the private jet and this thing, I don’t want to see another plane for a gazillion years.”

“That’s the plan,” he said, beaming. “I’m arranging it so that you’ll never want to leave.”

The plane dipped to the side, and we made a shaky descent down into a verdant valley covered in dense brush with a river snaking through it. Flying over Colombia, we’d seen many modern cities, but an aerial view of the village revealed round huts with grass roofing built a short distance from more contemporary blocked structures.

Upon landing, Corey took my hand and helped me out of the plane. Thrilled, I breathed in the fresh air, much purer than Chicago. Exotic native women in long skirts and modern T-shirts came out to greet us, their smiles curious and wide. Several had babies tied to their backs. Behind them stood men in soccer jerseys and tracksuit bottoms. It was an integration of the old world with the new, and I was honored to be here to witness it.

“Don’t let the setting fool you,” Corey whispered in my ear, his arm around my waist, fiercely protective. “The people who live in this village choose to be here because of the agricultural benefits. They’re an incredibly astute community who have invented one of the world’s most sophisticated irrigation systems.”

“Then why are they staring at us?” I asked quietly.

“Because we’re here to help.”

I still didn’t understand, but I lifted my hand and waved. “
Hola.”

I few said hello back, and the crowd dispersed as a man wearing an army uniform greeted us. “Corey!” he cheered, and they shook hands like old fraternity brothers. “Long time no see, man. Thanks for coming out on such short notice.”

“Of course,” Corey said, his arm still clutching my waist. “I had to answer the call.”

“More poachers?” I asked.

“You could say that,” Corey replied, and then he introduced us. “Imogen, this is Barrett. He made all the arrangements.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “This village, this country — it’s amazing.”

“I hope you feel the same after you see your residence,” Barrett said and laughed heartily.

After the comment, I expected him to lead us down to the grass huts, but he took us to one of the block units a short walk away. It was a single room with a kitchenette and a door to a bathroom, but it was actually quite spacious and decorated with a refined jungle charm. A bed with a pillowed mattress and thin sheets on top sat with a palm-wood headboard against the back wall. Closer to the door was a hammock stretched between the walls. There was no television, but a radio rested on a small writing desk, and there were outlets around for electronics.

“It’s better than I could ever imagine,” I said honestly, setting my rucksack down on the floor next to the writing desk.

“Are you sure?” Corey asked. “I know it’s not exactly fine living.”

“It’s good living,” I assured him, flopping down on the bed. “Comfy.”

“There’s hot water in the bathroom,” Barrett informed us. “Grocery stores don’t exactly exist in these parts, but the locals will be bringing you food out of gratitude for what you’re doing here.” He tapped the door anxiously and addressed Corey. “There’s a meeting in an hour. Settle in then join us.”

“See you then,” Corey said, and Barrett left.

“He’s friendly,” I acknowledged. “Why do the villagers feel so indebted to us?”

“It’s a long story. I’ll explain later.”

Standing by the door, he tested the locks, making sure they were bolted tight. Only when the door was shut did I realize there were no windows in the room.

“That’s strange,” I mused. “And dark.”

“It’s to keep away the mosquitos.”

Satisfied, he opened the door once more, and light came flooding back in. I looked around, curious about our sleeping arrangements. “About the bed…”

Corey flashed me a smile. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got the hammock.”

“Maybe I wanted the hammock,” I teased.

“Then it’s all yours, as long as you don’t mind me sleeping in it with you.”

Floating in my good mood, I hopped off the bed, pulled my journals out of my rucksack, and stacked them neatly on top of the writing desk. “I think I’ll like it here.”