“Even family?” He was looking at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
“Everyone,” I confirmed.
He nodded. “Not a word.”
“Thanks.”
Once he’d disappeared at the bottom of the stairs, I jogged the rest of the way to my room. I’d already burned most of the time I’d allotted myself, and I still needed to pack some things and take a shower. I didn’t want to be gone for more than three hours if I could help it, and with Gary’s place almost an hour away, it didn’t give me much wiggle room.
Thankfully, I’d been packing in a hurry for longer than I could remember. Grabbing what I’d need was practically muscle memory, and a few minutes later, my duffel of clothes and a small cooler of blood were sitting by the door. After taking a cold shower, I didn’t even take the time to dry my hair, leaving it loose to dry instead. I hated the feeling of wet hair on my back, but it couldn’t be helped.
I probably should’ve cut it.
At some point, I would.
As I made my way back out to the car, waving goodbye to Chance and Charlie, who were failing to get the bloodstains out of the hardwood, I thought about the bet I’d made with my little brother.
He’d been convinced that I’d never be able to go longer than two months without a haircut. He’d given me so much shit about it that we’d wagered on it. Then I’d deliberately gone even longer. Two months had turned into six. Then a year. Each time we’d been in the same place, the moment he’d seen me, he’d burst out laughing.
I could still see the delight on his face the first time I’d shown up with an actual ponytail. He’d thought it was so fucking hilarious that I refused to cut it. Called me stubborn. Called me Rapunzel.
I thought about Zeke the entire drive back to Gary’s, my eyes constantly on my mirrors, being sure I wasn’t followed. I couldn’t remember when Zeke was born—I’d been too little—but I had a thousand memories of him starting when I was about six years old. He’d always been so anxious to keep up with us, so adamant that he could do whatever we were doing.
He’d driven me crazy.
He was also my best friend.
We’d done stupid shit, whored around, taken risks, helped people when we could, spent late nights talking and sparring and generally raising hell. It was still hard to believe I was in the world without him. I wasn’t sure how many times I’d reached for my phone to call him before realizing that I couldn’t.
The shower I’d taken was a lost cause. Fifteen minutes into the drive, and I realized I’d already sweated through my shirt again. The heat was getting worse. I’d been able to power through the body aches and the nausea and the tightness inmy chest, but the headache that was thrumming between my temples made me glad that I wouldn’t be away from Rosemary much longer.
Thank the Gods her pain had been manageable so far. I knew that putting distance between us wouldn’t be pleasant for her, maybe even painful, which is why I’d been so conscious of how long I was gone. I hated it, but the necessity of going back to my parents’ place was almost as important as keeping her safe.
I’d rather she were miserable for a few hours than dead, at least that’s what I told myself as guilt lay heavy on my shoulders for leaving her.
It took everything I had to drive slowly up the long gravel lane, avoiding the potholes when I could while scanning my surroundings. The Whitlock house really was in the middle of nowhere. If you weren’t looking, it would be easy to drive right past their driveway, assuming it was an old forest road. Leaving the road in disrepair had probably been a deliberate decision on Gary’s part, and even as it made my muscles throb with every jerk, I had to give him credit. The man knew what he was doing.
When I reached the house, Dalton’s car was parked out front again. I should’ve known that he wouldn’t stay gone for long. Our conversation the night before had been vague to the point of infuriating, so much so that I hadn’t known how or what to pass on when I’d gone home. Between that and not wanting my family to connect Rosemary to the Cavendish family, I’d kept my mouth shut.
We didn’t lie to each other, and not telling them that Dalton had been looking into the Vampire disappearances long before we’d even known about them felt a lot like lying. I wondered if I’d done the right thing as I tied my hair back out of my face and strode toward the house.
I knocked on the front door before pushing it open, surprised that Rosemary hadn’t come out to greet me. If I felt like I’d beenrun over by a truck, she must’ve felt the same, but I didn’t see her as I stepped inside the house.
“Kitchen,” Gary called.
I followed his voice and stepped into a room filled with Cavendishes. Dalton and Halle sat at the table with Gary while Ian lounged on the counter, his long legs nearly reaching the floor. Two younger boys in jackets and boots looked like they’d just come in the back door.
“Your family all right?” Gary asked as he turned to look at me.
Where was my mate?
“As well as expected,” I replied, shifting on my feet. If Rosemary wasn’t in the kitchen, maybe she was in her room. I didn’t want to be rude, but I had no interest in visiting with the Cavendish family when I’d already been separated from my mate for hours.
“Go on,” Gary said, easily noticing my impatience. “There’s dinner on the stove when you’re ready.”
As I hurried toward the hallway, Dalton’s mate Halle let out a tinkling laugh. “I remember those days.”
“What, yesterday?” Dalton teased her.
