Kate Brian - Endless

“No,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m really not.”

He reached for me, and I took an instinctive step back. I didn’t dare look around. I didn’t want to know who might be watching.

“I’m so sorry, Tristan.”

“For what?” he asked.

“For Nadia and Cori,” I said. “And I’m sorry I didn’t believe in you. I’m just so sorry.”

“Hey.” I felt him moving to touch me again, and I flinched. Tristan’s hands fell to his sides.

“But I just can’t…I can’t sit here and pretend that everything’s going to be okay,” I said, fumbling for the words to express how I was feeling. “How if we just start ushering people, everything will go back to normal. Because it won’t. It can’t. Not for me and not for the people trapped in the Shadowlands. We can’t forget about them, Tristan. We can’t pretend like it never happened.”

“We won’t,” he said. “I promise you. We won’t forget about them. We’ll get your dad and Darcy back.”

I glanced around at Fisher and Kevin laughing by the stereo. At Bea, Krista, Lauren, and Liam dancing near the waves. A seagull cawed and dove toward the water. It was the first live bird I’d seen in days. My jaw clenched.

“It feels like we already have,” I said.

A tear slipped down my cheek and I quickly, angrily, swiped it away.

“Rory—”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m glad you’re better, I just…Right now I need to be alone. I need some time to think.”

And then I did something I never would have thought possible as recently as an hour ago. I turned my back on Tristan and walked away.

I was staring at the waves when I saw a flash of color out of the corner of my eye. Joaquin was walking briskly toward the rock wall, snapping up his jacket as he went. I couldn’t let him leave without saying something to him. What that would be, I had no idea, but I couldn’t let him go.

He was already at the foot of the hill, the rocks slick with leftover rain, when I caught up to him. “Joaquin! Wait up!”

He paused with one hand on a protrusion of gray stone and blew out a sigh. I could practically see him bracing himself to talk to me—the tension in his face and across his back.

“We have to talk,” I said, planting my feet in the sand in front of him.

“I don’t see why,” he said, lifting one shoulder. “I saw the way you looked at Tristan when he first walked up. I get it. I’m happy for you.”

Never had those words been said in a less enthusiastic tone. He sounded like he was ordering paper over the phone.

“Joaquin—”

He laughed sarcastically.

“Rory, look. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Joaquin said. “It’s not like I’m going to stand here and say it doesn’t matter to me. Because it does. Of course it does. If it were anyone else…”

He looked off across the beach at Tristan, who was nodding pensively as Kevin went on about something.

“But it’s Tristan,” I said, my voice full.

When he looked at me again, his brown eyes were full of sadness and longing. “It’s Tristan.”

My eyes filled with tears, and I could feel him straining not to reach for me. Never had my heart felt so confused and sick and at war with itself. I had spent days hating Tristan, and now, even though I knew Tristan hadn’t deserved that hate, even though I knew I loved him, I couldn’t imagine letting Joaquin go. I didn’t want to lose him.

Finally Joaquin turned toward the rock wall, and the spell was broken. One tear slipped from my eye, and I swiped it away. Joaquin reached for a handhold.

“Listen, Tristan says that Pete was the only one in the gray house that night. No one else was with him. If that’s true, then hopefully the mayor is right. With Pete in prison, we’ll be okay.”

“Okay…” I said slowly, confused by his sudden shift to calm, cool, and collected. All business. “But then what was he talking about when he said it wasn’t his idea? When he said he was going to get what he wants?”

“I don’t know. Maybe he was just trying to throw you off,” Joaquin theorized. “Either way, I’m going to bring Lancet up to the bridge around nine. If you and any of the others want to meet me there…it might be good to do it together. Moral support and that kinda crap.”

I managed a smile, even though my chest felt bruised. I couldn’t believe Joaquin was just walking away from us after everything that had happened. “Okay. I’ll tell them.”

He nodded and started to climb. His back was to me and he had only one foot planted on firm ground when I spoke again. “Joaquin?”

He turned his face only slightly, so I could see his ear and the corner of his eye. “Yeah?”

“I just want you to know…it matters to me, too,” I said. “You, I mean. You matter.”

He stood there for a second, just letting that sit, and then he climbed away. I stepped back and held my breath for a good long while, wishing it didn’t hurt so much to watch him go.

“What’re we doing here, blondie?”

“Just keep moving,” I replied.

I glanced past Ray Wagner at Bea, who was busy dragging family-slaughterer Tess Crowe out of her Jeep by the light of half a dozen cars’ headlights. All our friends except for Kevin—who was keeping watch on the weather vane in town—and Tristan—who was resting—were present. We’d decided that Bea should go first, since she claimed she was going to go insane if she had to spend one more minute in Tess’s presence. We stood back and watched as the woman gnashed her teeth and rolled her head around, Bea leading her by the length of rope that tied her wrists together. Jack Lancet slouched near the grille of Joaquin’s truck, his bulbous eyes wide, while Piper Malloy paced back and forth in front of Lauren and Fisher, her patent heels gleaming.

At the foot of the bridge, Bea slapped a coin into Tess’s hand.

“Happy trails!” she said loudly.

Then she shoved Tess into the wall of mist that surrounded the bridge. I felt a chill as she was engulfed, remembering vividly the horrors that had awaited inside that wall of fog. I half expected her to come tearing right back out of there, but as was normally the case with charges being ushered, she went in the correct direction. After a few seconds, we heard the telltale, louder-than-a-bullhorn sucking sound that indicated whoever was on the bridge had been ushered to their final destination. The stillness that followed felt unnatural, like some unseen hand had hit a giant button, pausing us where we stood.

“Here goes nothing,” Joaquin said, lifting his walkie-talkie. “Kevin, the first one’s gone over. What’s the status? Over.”

“Nothing yet. Over.”

The seconds dragged out as the wind whipped and the ceiling of fog overhead undulated and swirled. The current theory was that the cold was now keeping the fog aloft, but even if that was possible, I didn’t like it. I had never thought I would wish for the eerie fog to envelop me in its chilling, hissing embrace, but having it hanging above us was almost worse. Menacing. As if it had been biding its time up there these past few days, plotting its final attack.

“The weather vane is pointing south. Over,” Kevin announced.

I let out a relieved breath. At least the coins were getting this right.

“Rory, wanna go next?” Joaquin suggested.

“With pleasure.”

I just wanted to get this over with so I could get back to the jail and check on Pete’s status. Every second that passed that Darcy and my dad were still in the Shadowlands was a second too long. I took Ray Wagner firmly by the arm.

“Oh, so now you’re getting touchy-feely with me? Is that what this is about? You got a little crush?”