Clara Kensie - Run to You Part Six - Sixth Sense

“I did a stupid, reckless, irresponsible thing today,” I said. “But it’s not your job to keep me safe.”

He looked at me then, just a glimpse, then back to the dirt. He swallowed hard, then whispered, “You fell in love with me because I made you feel safe.”

The pain in his voice and the wounded look on his face made something break inside me. Being a hero was how he defined himself, and I’d taken that from him.

“I don’t love you because of your warning premonitions,” I said. “I love you because your eyes are so incredibly blue and because your hair turns gold in the sun. Because you have broad shoulders and strong arms and you let me wear your hoodies every day. And that’s only the little things. You’re kind and smart and supportive and respectful. All you have to do to make me feel safe is put your arms around me. That’s why I love you, Tristan.”

He said nothing. Just stood there, stiff, and stared at that patch of dirt.

I’d hurt him so much that not even my expression of love could make it better.

“You’re not failing me,” I said. “You could never fail me. But I failed you. I came into your life and I ruined it. You lost Melanie because of me. You lost Nathan because of me. And my parents...” My heart pumped my tainted, tarnished blood through my veins. “I’m Killers’ Spawn, Tristan. I don’t deserve your love.”

At that, he melted. The anger in his eyes, the tightness in his face, the tension in his shoulders.

“Lady Elke saw your nightmare and called you Killers’ Spawn,” he murmured, taking a lock of my hair in his fingers. “She got that from you.”

I nodded, and now I stared at the patch of dirt on the ground.

“Tainted blood. Tarnished blood. She got all of that from you. Is that how you really feel? Is that why you think you don’t deserve my love?”

Shame and despair crawled up into my throat and blocked my words, and I could only nod.

Now, finally, finally, he put his arms around me, pulled me close. “You have wildflower eyes. Your hair is the color of honey. You slide your hands into your sleeves. You pick the green peppers from your salad. You wear my hoodies every day. And that’s only the little things. You stand up to Kellan and the Lab Brats. You’ll do anything to find your brother and sister. You’ve been through so much, but you get up every morning and you fight. You’re amazing, Tessa. You more than deserve my love. You are my heart. You are my soul.”

“But my parents—”

He kissed me. It tasted like love.

“I don’t care about your parents,” he said. “I only care about us. You and me.”

“Us. You and me,” I repeated, and for just a moment, my heart stopped pumping my killers’ blood through my veins, and instead it echoed in rhythm: Thump. Thump-th-thump.

Even the Nightmare Eyes dimmed.

We stayed like that, me pressed against his chest and breathing him in, and he holding me tight, until the sky turned dark and it was just the two of us, under the stars.

Chapter Thirty-Eight

“How dare you.”

Those were the words Deirdre used to greet me when Tristan and I returned to the Connellys’ house as the sun rose the next morning. She stood in the foyer, hair a mess of copper, arms crossed, lips curved down.

“I gave you one rule to follow, Tessa. One. Stay in Lilybrook,” she said. “And what did you do, the first chance you had? You left Lilybrook.”

So this was it. I’d disregarded Deirdre’s premonition. Disobeyed her orders. I’d left town, and in doing so, I had almost gotten her son killed. Dennis and Tristan had already risked their lives for me, and now Tristan had to do it again. Tristan and I had finally reconciled, but Deirdre was going to tell me to leave, to get out and never come back, just like my mother had done.

“How dare you make me worry like that?” She grabbed both Tristan and me in a hug so tight I could barely breathe. “I was frantic.”

“I—” I mumbled into her chest. “You’re not kicking me out?”

“Kick you out?” she said, still holding me tight. “Tessa, no. I’m upset that you deceived us, but I understand how desperate you are to find your siblings. But honey, you cannot leave Lilybrook again. We can’t risk my dream happening.”

“Mom, it did happen,” Tristan chuckled. “Your dream came true.”

“What? How?” She released us, then put her hands on my shoulders and looked me up and down. “Kellan told us a crazy woman tried to attack you with a knife. He didn’t say anything about a little house with silver walls.”

As Tristan and I gave Deirdre a slightly sanitized version of yesterday’s events, Dennis and Ember came downstairs. They listened breathlessly, Deirdre and Ember with their hands over their mouths in shock the whole time. “That lady had a vision of your nightmare and attacked you?” Ember asked, her face white.

Miserably, I nodded, and Dennis frowned.

When we got to the part about Lady Elke barging through the shed’s door, Ember squeezed Lyric so tight that he hissed and bolted away, and Deirdre grabbed me again, crushing me to her chest.

When we finished, Dennis rubbed his chin. “So the shed was the little house,” he concluded. “The tools on the wall were the silver.”

“The tools were the silver?” Deirdre furrowed her brow. “Well, I’m just relieved it’s over. Now we need to get you to stop having that nightmare, Tessa. It’s a lot more serious than I thought.”

I nodded. There was nothing I wanted more than to stop having my nightmare. Except for finding Jillian and Logan and bringing them back here, safe. And now that I no longer had to worry about Deirdre’s dream of little houses with silver walls, I was free to leave Lilybrook to get them.

* * *

That afternoon, I held tight to Tristan’s hand as I rang the doorbell to Aaron Jacobs’ house. In my other hand, I held a bouquet of balloons in all different colors, each of them printed with Get Well Soon.

The healers who had flown out to Ringgold, Colorado, to treat Aaron after his plunge off the cliff had worked fast, stealthily healing him enough to transport him back to Lilybrook within a few days. Now he was back home with his parents and a rotating crew of APR healers and physicians on hand to treat him.

Mrs. Jacobs answered the door. When she saw me, a little wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. That was the only wrinkly thing about her. Her chin-length hair was polished and glossy, and her slacks and blouse were perfectly pressed. I resisted the urge to smooth my hair.

“Mrs. Jacobs,” I said, gathering my courage. “We came to see Aaron. And to talk to you. Please.”

She regarded us for a moment, then let us in. Everything in her house was immaculate. White and cream with straight lines and right angles. Not a speck of dust. It smelled like Lysol. My mother would love it here.

“I heard about your little escapade to North Dakota,” Mrs. Jacobs said. “That was a very reckless thing to do, Tessa.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you’re grateful that John Kellan was able to rescue you.”

Tristan stiffened beside me, and I squeezed his hand to calm him. This was not a good time for him to get hotheaded about Kellan. “Yes, ma’am. We’re very grateful.”

But my humility wasn’t good enough for her, because she continued, her expression hard and immobile as granite. “The Carson family has brought a lot of trouble and heartache to this town.”

At her words, the Nightmare Eyes appeared and burned down on me from above. “Yes, we have,” I said. “What I did was wrong. And my parents...there’s no excuse for what they did. But my brother and sister didn’t mean to hurt Aaron. It was self-defense.”