Chapter Twenty-Two

1.3K 31 0
                                    

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

If you'd like to keep up-to-date with news of my journey to publication, you can always subscribe to my blog (you can find it on my profile) or follow me on Twitter, or just fan me here! And I'll be sure to let you know when I have news. In any case, thank you all for reading.

Vote if you like! Also, any comments and constructive criticism are very much appreciated.

Enjoy!

_____________________________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Even though dawn will be here in a few hours, no one is in the mood to go to bed and so Myra, James, Evan and I wind up at Myra’s place. I feel pretty drained, but I am still too keyed up to fall asleep. Judging by the other’s silence and their lack of nodding off, they must feel the same.

Finally, Myra breaks the silence. “Long night, huh?” she say weakly.

“Yeah,” I say. “That’s an understatement.”

Myra looks at me, and suddenly a light bulb seems to go off in her head. I notice the shift in her eyes—she’s thought of something. She glances at the guys and then gives me a look.

Oh. I send her one back meant to say, You think?

She gets it, though, because she nods back with assurance.

I nod. Okay.

Myra sits up straighter on her bed. “So,” she says brightly to the guys, “I think an opportunity has arisen in the midst of all this tragedy.”

Evan lifts his head and gives her a suspicious glance. “What exactly are you talking about?”

She suppresses a smile. “Well, we’ve got time, we’ve got privacy and we’ve got nothing else to do at the moment . . .” Her voice trails off suggestively as her eyes flicker between the two of them.

James groans from his place on the floor. “Not again, Myra.”

Evan’s chair makes a scraping noise as he sits back. He crosses his arms across his chest defensively. “Oh, come on.”

Seeing Neveah’s scrunchie snapped something inside me; it stripped away my inhibitions, if only temporarily, and it is easy to push aside my timidity with Evan and James right now. “Guys,” I say exasperatedly, “grow the hell up. This is important—not only for Neveah’s dad anymore, but I’m guessing also for Neveah and Dwayne, too.” I look to Myra for confirmation, and she nods back somberly. “See? You guys need to get over your history and start getting along, or else we won’t be able to help them. Who knows where they are right now, or what’s going on? They could be in pain, they could be tortured. . . . They could be dead.”

I stand up and give them both a look filled with as much disgust as I can muster. I don’t stay on Evan’s eyes for too long. I won’t be able to hold it. “Myra and I are going over to my place now. You two are going to stay here until you work out your differences. Do I make myself clear?”

I look between the two of them, waiting expectantly for an answer.

“Fine,” Evan mumbles.

“Okay,” James says.

“Good,” I say, satisfied. “Come over when you’re ready.”

Myra gets up and follows me out the house. Just before we reach the door, she pauses and turns around. “And don’t think we won’t be watching,” she adds. “Because we will.”

Color-Gifted (Color-Gifted, #1)Where stories live. Discover now