Traveller (24 page)

I sat very still. “Then give back my passport.”

Michael sat back, shoving his plate away. “What does that have to do with anything?”

I clenched my hands into little fists. “It’s about trust, Michael.”

Last night may have changed everything, but one thing remained the same. Michael didn’t trust me, and continued to try to control me.

“It’s about keeping you alive. Sorry to ruin your plans.”

“Do you think I
wanted
to leave?”

“I don’t know.” Michael stared at my mouth. He wanted to kiss me again, but I wasn’t going to let him until he was honest. His eyes went from my mouth up to my eyes and he frowned. “Yes. You wanted to leave.”

I rewarded him with a brief kiss. The fact he showed any vulnerability at all was huge progress.

“Well, you’re wrong, but I’ll have to go back to Kentucky eventually. I don’t have a choice.” Michael opened his mouth to speak, but I stopped him with one finger on his lips. “My daddy needs me. My grandparents need me. I’m all they have.”

I sat back in my chair again, my heart heavy. I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place, or, in the case of Michael Nightingale, a hard head.

“No.” His voice was clipped.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a Traveller now. That changes everything.”

“It changes nothing. I don’t belong here. This isn’t my home.” Too angry and scared to cry, I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him.

He brushed a damp curl behind my ear, his face only inches from mine. Even when I was mad at him, my body still reacted to his nearness. I definitely had issues.

“If you leave before I kill Melo, he’ll get you. It doesn’t matter if you are in Kentucky or York or Kalamazoo. He’ll find you. Please believe me.”

“But you said I could go home.”

He rubbed a hand over his head. “That was before I knew you were a Traveller, and before I knew Moktar could cross the bloody ocean. They got your mom, Emerson, and they weren’t even tracking her. You wouldn’t last a week.”

“When you first brought me here, you had no idea there were Moktar in Kentucky.” I frowned. “You could have sent me home right away, but you didn’t. Why is that, Michael?”

He slammed a fist down onto the table, making me jump. He got up to his feet and leaned over me. “Selfishness. I wanted to protect you myself. I wanted you near me, even when I thought you were a Dweller. You should thank me. If I’d sent you home on the first plane as you wished, you’d be dead right now.”

“Just because it all worked out doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me. It’s all words, like the way you tell me you love me and yet you don’t even trust me. You stole my passport. What kind of love is that?”

Michael reached into a drawer and pulled out my passport. He tossed it to me across the table, his blue eyes blazing with fury. “You are the one who has to trust me. If you leave, you’ll die. If you stay, I’ll keep you safe. Just promise me right now you will be careful. Stop making idiotic decisions. Think before you act.”

“I promise. I’m not stupid. Give me a little credit.”

He came close to me, his cheeks flushed with anger. I swallowed hard. I wanted to reach up and shake him, but I wanted to kiss him, too. My feelings must have been glaringly apparent on my face because Michael swayed toward me, his eyes dark with passion.

“You’ll be the death of me, Emerson, and I’m not lying about that.” His voice was soft and husky. “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you. I want you all the time. Even when you make me crazy, I still want you. The only consolation is I know you feel the same way. It’s almost like a sickness, but at least it’s one we both share.”

He was right. I was madder than I’d ever been in my whole life, but still wanted to rip his pants off.

“It’s better than the stomach flu, I guess.”

Michael growled as desire and anger flashed in his eyes. “Don’t try to make me laugh. It will not work.”

“Fine, Mr. Grumpy Pants. You were the one who started this argument in the first place.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “For good or bad, you’re a Traveller, and right now, in true Traveller fashion, we have a pair of irate grandparents to deal with. We’ll have to continue this discussion at a later time.”

He pulled on his boots, his hands yanking on the laces as he tied them up. I picked up my tennis shoes and sighed as I put them on.

“I’d rather go back to your bed.”

“Me, too, but it’s time to face the music. Or the firing squad, as the case may be.”

I stood up grudgingly, shoved my passport into my backpack, and stomped to the door. “Not as much fun as your bed.”

“Not by a long shot.” He reached for my hand and pulled me back to him. He looked very serious again. “No matter what, I’ll never regret a moment of what happened between us. I’m glad you’re here, Emerson.”

I gave him a quick peck on the check. “We’ll see if you still feel that way after you talk to my grandparents.”

As we walked hand in hand to their caravan, I was nervous. “Is Matthew going to freak out?”

“I’m more afraid of Anselina.”

I winced. “Will they be able to tell?”

“All I have to do is look at you and they’ll know.”

I swatted his arm. “Then don’t look at me.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I can’t help myself. I’ve been trying for months.”

I gave him a loopy, lustful smile. I thought about the photos he’d tied so carefully with my ribbon, and the way his naked body felt against mine. Michael sighed.

“And if you look at me like that, we’re doomed.”

Matthew and Anselina waited for us with Sampson. I tried to release Michael’s hand, but he held it firmly in his. He was right. There was no sense in pretending.

I was about to sit down, but Anselina took my arm. “I’d like to speak with Emerson alone.” I shot Michael a panicked look, but there was nothing he could do. Anselina was a powerhouse.

She brought me into the neat and tidy sitting room of her caravan. She poured me a cup of tea, and then fixed her blue-eyed stare on me.

“How could you?” To my horror, her lip quivered, and she was close to tears. “After what happened to your mother when she ran away, how could you put yourself in that same sort of danger?”

“I’m sorry.” I swallowed hard. “It had nothing to do with you and Matthew.”

Anselina slammed down her cup. I was surprised it didn’t break. “It had everything to do with us. We love you, and you’re all we have left of our Jillie.”

I knelt next to her and hugged her around the waist. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

She held me tightly, her body trembling. I felt so bad. I’d never considered how running away would make my grandparents feel. I’d only been thinking about myself.

Anselina let go and dabbed her eyes with a white handkerchief. “Drink your tea. It’s getting cold”

I sat down and took a sip, but before I could even swallow, she almost made me choke. “Now what are we to do about you sleeping with Michael Nightingale?”

I coughed into my napkin, feeling my cheeks redden under her steady gaze. Lying seemed pointless so I sucked it up.

“Is there anything that has to be done?”

“I only trust you’ll be discreet until we can plan the wedding.”

“Wedding?”

Anselina took a delicate sip of her tea. “Of course. Michael is the Ceannfort, and a very eligible male. Many girls have tried and failed to gain his attention. The fact that you swooped in and took him does not sit well with everyone. The sooner you’re married, the better it will be.”

“I’m not getting married. I’m twenty-one years old. And you can’t force Michael into it either.”

Anselina snorted. “Michael knew exactly what would happen when he welcomed you into his bed. You’re a Traveller, part of a proud and ancient line, but there are those that think your Dweller upbringing has corrupted you. They will look for you to make mistakes. Sleeping with the Ceannfort without any intention to marry him would be one of those mistakes.”

I bit my lip, trying to be gentle with her. “I love Michael, but I won’t be forced into marriage. Not now. Not ever.”

Anselina sighed. “I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter. He’s already given you his ring, and you accepted it. That’s the equivalent of a hand fasting.”

“A hand fasting?” I gripped the chair, an ornate wooden affair with detailed carvings and embroidered cushions.

“You wear his mother’s ring on your finger. You’re already his.”

I took a shaky breath, trying to be respectful of cultural differences. “I’m going back to Kentucky in December. You can’t force me to do this.”

Anselina shrugged. She didn’t believe me. In her mind, the deed was done. “We should go and check on that young man of yours. I’m sure he needs rescuing. Matthew was furious.”

Outside, no one was furious, and no one required a rescue. They lounged in the sunshine, drinking beer, and talking about soccer. Sampson stood up to give me a kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, love.”

“Thank you,” I said through gritted teeth.

Matthew and Sampson toddled off to get more beer. Celebrating. I was not. When Michael saw the look on my face, he jumped to his feet.

“Emerson…” he began, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk to him at the moment. I pointed my finger in the direction his father and my grandfather had just gone, and he ducked his head and followed them. It reminded me of the way my golden retriever, Bessie Sue, acted when I punished her. If he’d had a tail, it would have been between his legs right now.

My ring flashed in the sunlight, and I stared down at my finger. Michael had known what this meant, and he never told me

“Men,” I said in disgust.

Anselina nodded. “You can’t live with them, and you can’t live without them.”

I pursed my lips. “I only agree with the first half of that statement.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

She’s busier than a moth in a mitten.

~Grandma Sugar

I had the very best of intentions, but broke my promise to be more careful and stop making idiotic decisions before a single day had passed. It wasn’t really my fault. I did it to help a friend.

Michael had just left to go on his nightly search for Melo. I’d watched him leave from my grandparents’ porch, his broad back encased in black leather. Part of me wanted to ignore him because he’d made me so mad, but when he looked over his shoulder and his eyes met mine, I couldn’t help it. I ran after him.

He pulled me into his arms, holding me close, his face in my hair. “I’m sorry, Emerson.”

I put my hand on his cheek. “I’ll yell at you later. Be careful out there.”

He kissed me, and I pressed against him, twining my arms around his neck. His kisses were sweet and soft, and he begged for my forgiveness with his lips and tongue. I sighed.

“It’s awfully hard to stay mad at you, Michael Nightingale.”

He grinned, kissing my forehead as his friends teased him and called for him to hurry up. “I’ll be back soon. Promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.”

“I already did.”

“Do it again.”

I rolled my eyes. “What trouble can I possibly get into here? Go catch a Moktar, will you?”

He laughed, but we both knew he was becoming obsessed with it, working even on days he should have been off. He wanted me to be safe, but that wasn’t the only reason he hunted Melo with such single-minded intensity. Whether he knew it or not, he thought killing his monstrous half-brother would somehow avenge his mother. I wasn’t completely certain it would work out that way, but there was nothing I could say. I wanted Melo dead for my own reasons.

I called Grandma Sugar, tearing up when she gave the phone to Pappy George because he sounded normal and well. When she got back on the phone, she complained so much it reassured me he really was okay.

“He is more stubborn than a mule on Monday, but I’m taking charge now. Fried chicken is no longer a part of that man’s life.”

I smiled, knowing full well if she didn’t fry it for him he would sneak into the KFC first chance he got. “How’s Daddy?”

The pause that resulted spoke volumes. “He misses you something awful. He’s counting the days until you come home, like we all are.”

I said goodbye and hung up the phone, cradling it against my cheek for just a moment. I needed to go home, but it hung over my head like a dark cloud.

Later, I joined Margaret and some of the other girls for a martial arts lesson. Sun Tzu said to love your soldiers like your own children, but these ladies were more like sisters. Ten in all, and together we had some serious skills.

My phone rang just as we got started. It was Brooke. She’d been very snippy with me the last time she’d sent a message. I thought about ignoring her call, but then I remembered she was going out with Leo tonight.

“Hello?”

Her broken sobs echoed through the phone. “Emerson, you have to help me.”

“What is it, Brooke? Did he hurt you?”

My heart thumped in my chest as I waited for an answer. Even though I’d tried to warn her, I still felt guilty. I’d introduced them in the first place and shouldered some of the responsibility.

“We’re at The King’s Head Pub. Do you know it? It’s not far from the tea shop.”

“Yes, I know it. What’s going on, Brooke?”

Brooke’s voice hitched. “He thought you’d be coming, and was furious when I showed up alone. I should have listened to you. There’s something really wrong with him, and I’m scared. I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

I winced. “You have to leave, Brooke. Walk out of there and go straight back to your dorm room. Or better yet, call the police.”

“He said he would hurt me if I left, and I believe him.”

“Is there anyone in the pub who could help you?”

Brooke sniffed. “It’s just a bunch of old people. If one of them tried to help, he might hurt them, too.”

“Tell him I’m coming.” Margaret, who stood next to me, listening to our entire conversation, shook her head frantically. I held up my hand to stop her.

“He won’t believe me.” Brooke’s voice was a whisper, and someone yelled in the background. It had to be Leo.

“Is that him?”