Perigee [bxb] | Bad Moon Book II

49; {Jaylin}: sunshine

"Let's get going," Matt said, heaving himself up into his seat. "We got a long drive. I get home and I don't wanna hear from anyone. I'm going to sleep and all of y'all better leave me the hell alone for at least a week."

"You'd miss us," Tisper crooned.

"The hell I would. I've had more than enough of you people to last a lifetime," Matt said. He twisted the key in the ignition the the Wrangler groaned against the roar of the ocean wind. "Y'all are just lucky I got more than one."

The ride back to Washington was grueling, because though Nadaline didn't know how to speak, she knew how to scream. It took all four of them—including a pathetic attempt on Tisper's part—to change her diaper without suffering a scratch or a bite. And when the tantrum came, it came hard.

After the first hour of wailing, Matt pulled off of the interstate and they shared a room in a shoddy hotel. They disguised Nadaline's monstrous hand with an oven mitt and told anyone who asked that she was just getting over her first case of chicken pox. The others made their beds while Jaylin paced the halls with the beast in his arms, listening to her soft little upset hiccups lessen and lessen. For hours she'd been crying, real tears wetting her plump little cheeks.

Jaylin rocked her, talking all the while: "What's wrong, huh? Was it your lunch?" They'd searched a long time for a place to eat, but the closest they came to an organic lunch was cubed cheese and pepperoni from the deli section at a Shop-Mart. Still, the toddler had all her teeth and devoured her food in ten minutes time. "Are you thirsty?" he asked, but when he'd last tried to give her water, she refused. He shifted her to his other arm and she clung to the neck of his shirt, still hiccuping and whimpering against his skin. "You're scared, aren't you?" he realized. This was all so new, and though a lichund, Nadaline was only a child. That cell and the last few days in the watch house were all she'd ever known.

He sat with her after that, slumped against the wall beside a stranger's room. And eventually Nadaline succumbed to the gentle pats on the back and fell asleep, limp and heavy on his chest. By the time he carried her back into the room, Tisper had made a bed within the gutted drawer of a dresser. Nadaline fit perfectly inside, her cheeks pink and pressed from the fabric of his shirt.

"She's so sweet when she's sleeping," Tisper muttered, patting the bed beside her. Jaylin stripped off his drool-soaked shirt and slid beneath the duvet.

"What do you think's going to happen?" he asked, reaching out for a stray lock of Tisper's hair. "When he finds out she's alive?"

"I dunno, Jay." Tisper turned on her pillow to look him in the eye. "I'm more worried about you."

"About me?" asked Jaylin. "Why?"

"Because this changes everything, Jaylin. There's a kid involved and that... complicates things. I mean, it usually does, right?"

He hadn't thought about it before, but Tisper wasn't wrong. A piece of Anna was still alive. What did that mean for Quentin?

He gnawed on his lip and watched the lights of passing traffic swim along the ceiling. He'd been so concerned about Quentin's recovery, so elated to know he'd be okay and well again. He hadn't thought about it. He hadn't thought about whether he himself was ready for something like this.

"It'll be okay." Tisper must've noticed his distress because she sat up suddenly on her elbow and gave his chest a pat. "Forget I said anything. Are you excited to see him?"

"Nervous," Jaylin admitted.

"Me too." The scent of her washed over him as she laid back and tugged the blanket up to her chin. "To see them all I mean. Imani and Izzy and..."