:: C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N | IT WAS THE WICKED AND WILD WIND ::
I stared at Liam for a good minute after his dramatic announcement, my mind going blank. "No," I finally managed to force out.
"What do you mean no?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, feeling a bitter surge of anger when I saw Meg shifting in the passenger seat. "Goodbye, Liam."
"Reed! Wait!" I heard his car door slam and his footsteps against the pavement as I turned away. His hand caught my wrist, and I flinched, jumping away before he could stop me from leaving. "Can I see the letter?"
Davina and I looked at each other.
After a moment of hesitation, she handed it over. When I saw the neat writing on the ivory paper with the yellow sticky note on top, I had to look away.
It was a reminder that my dad was not the person I thought he was, and that I'd never be able to look at him the same way again.
He finished reading the letter, glaring at both of us like we were the ones to blame for the terrible words that had pushed Kian to commit suicide because that's how Liam was. It was his knee-jerk reaction to blame someone else when things didn't go his way. "Where did you find this?"
"In his journal," I said as Meg climbed out of the passenger side, coming up behind Liam and wrapping her arm around his waist. My jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other with an audible clack.
Liam folded the letter, making to tuck it in his jacket pocket, but Davina snatched it from his hands. Her fingers smoothed over the wrinkles and tracing over Kian's name. Her expression was wistful for a second before she looked up at Liam, all traces of vulnerability gone. "Where's his journal?"
He rocked back on his heels, shifting towards Meg. "It's safe."
"I want to see it."
"Well, you can't."
"Do you really think you have any right to keep his journal for yourself?"
"I was his best friend!"
"I am his best friend, and I have been for 13 years! You can't pull rank on me!" she snarled. "Give it back."
"Kian and you were over the minute he became one of us," interjected Meg. "He chose us, not you."
Davina's back stiffened, and I stepped between the two girls before the fight escalated into scratching and hair pulling. "Just drop it," I said, exasperation keeping me from feeling self conscious. "I don't care who was more important to Kian. We're—"
"Who died and made you queen?" Meg interrupted, which I thought was ironic because that was a question I regularly wanted to ask her — especially at journalism meetings. "You didn't even know Kian!'
Davina slapped the hood of the car, the audible smack making us pause. Liam flinched. "Her dad is Karter's assistant, for fuck's sakes! If anyone knows what is going on, he will! So get your head out of your ass and keep up!"
Liam's eyes snapped to my face, but he was careful to avoid my eyes and instead focused on a spot just above my right shoulder. "Would he know? About Kian and Karter?" he asked quietly.
"It was his writing on the sticky note." It felt like I'd just signed my own social death warrant. Now that Meg knew, I doubted the connection between Kian and me would remain a secret. I wouldn't just be known as Reed Elliot, the scholarship freak, I'd also be known as the girl whose father was the reason that Kian was dead.
Liam frowned at the spot above my right shoulder. "You don't know if it's your dad knew what was in the letter when he sent it."
"Karter relies on my dad for basically everything. He'd have to check it over. It could be a PR disaster if he didn't," I replied through gritted teeth. An unidentifiable expression crossed Liam's face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.
"Why doesn't Elliot just phone her stupid dad and ask?" Meg snapped. "There. Problem solved."
I scowled at my shoes. "It's not that easy."
And it never was. My dad wasn't the reliable type. If I phoned him, there was a 90 per cent chance that he wouldn't pick up. Dad valued his job more than his own daughter, and I'd already accepted that fact—although it didn't mean that it hurt any less.
"Your dad's in Toronto, right?"
"With Karter, yeah." I'd only mentioned the city where Karter's summer home was located and where my dad worked one or twice, and I was surprised that Liam cared enough to remember.
His expression turned thoughtful. "That's a three-day drive from Scire."
I felt my mouth drop open as a disbelieving noise came out of it. "You can't be serious."
"Why not?" he challenged. "I have the car, the credit card. You need to get your article done and Davina needs closure. And I'm guessing that you and your dad have a lot to talk about and problems that can't be solved over the phone."
"What about me?" Meg pouted, shouldering her way between us, so I was staring at the back of her head. "Kian was my friend."
Davina snorted. "Yeah, as much of a friend as a Windigo is to its victim."
I didn't need to see Meg's face to know that she was sneering. "At least he never told me that I wasn't wanted. In fact, I think I was a little too much wanted by him."
Davina paled, looking ready to hurl on the pavement, and I didn't blame her. The idea of Kian and Meg cozying up was enough to make me nauseous, too.
The memory of Meg and Liam came to mind and bile rose in my throat and made my next words angrier than usual. "And then what? Ask my dad why he let that letter go to a teenage boy who wanted to meet his dad?"
He nodded. "Exactly."
I didn't want to be stuck in a car with Liam for nearly a week of driving. Seeing him made my chest hurt, and I wasn't a big fan of putting myself through more pain than necessary. But it was Davina who made the decision for me.
"We're in," she said pulling me into the car. "But she's not." She nodded at Meg who made a face at her.
"You can't stop me," she retorted snidely before climbing into the passenger seat.
I heard Liam sigh. "Everyone get in the bloody car before I run you over with it."
***
"This music sucks balls."
Liam didn't even glance at Davina. "My car, my rules."
She scowled, muttering something that distinctly sounded like "fucking asshole" under her breath before the uncomfortable silence resumed.
Meg alternated between staring out the window and tapping furiously away at her phone because the only other option was talking to us, and Liam hadn't even looked at me since Davina and I had climbed into the unfamiliar car that I later learned was one of the many in the Sinclair fleet.
"Tell you what," Davina said, reaching forward to flick the radio off. "We can listen to this stupid rap shit for half an hour and then listen to the music that I want for half an hour, and I promise that I'll never bash your shit again.."
Liam sighed, and I could see his mouth purse in the rearview mirror. "Fine."
"Excellent. I'll go first." Leaning over my lap, she hooked her phone up to the radio, scrolling through her music until she found a playlist she liked. Smiling smugly, she settled back in the seat as Justin Bieber began to blare from the speakers.
We all cringed, even Davina who supposedly liked this music. I sent her a questioning look, and she winked, nodding at Liam who looked like someone was repeatedly stabbing him in the thigh with a fork.
It was a clever plan, but I wished there was a little less collateral damage. It felt like my eardrums were bleeding.
"I'm hungry," Meg announced suddenly. I pinched my lips to prevent myself from saying something nasty and fight-provoking, but we'd only been on the road for a few hours. Sure, it was past suppertime, and we were nearing a town, but did she know how to suffer through a few hours of hunger?
"I'm Davina."
I saw Liam roll his eyes as he pulled into a Burger King parking lot. I grimaced because eating Burger King was a surefire way for me to end up puking my guts out in the middle of the night.
Liam bought everyone burgers and soda, and we sat at a corner table by the indoor play structure. It was one of the most awkward experiences of my life—forcing down a disgusting burger while Meg and Liam sat side by side and talked quietly. They didn't bother to include us, and we didn't try to include ourselves. Inheritors and have nots didn't mix; it was nothing new.
It felt like this trip was a whole collection of awkward moments because after we ate supper, we found a motel a few streets away. It was relatively nice—clean and updated—but they only had one room available, and we didn't feel like searching for another place to stay.
There were two double beds, a cot in the closet and a kitchenette with packages of coffee and tea. Meg wasted no time in claiming the bed by the window and making herself a pot of coffee that she didn't offer to share with the rest of us.
"I'll take the cot," Liam said. He'd been quiet all night, and he didn't complain when the cot creaked and wobbled.
My phone rang with the peppy ringtone I'd assigned to Jules. "Have you been kidnapped?" he asked the minute I picked up.
"I'm going to be away for a few days. Don't worry about me."
"I'm going to worry." I smiled at the exasperation in his voice. "You're my best friend. But, Reed?"
"Yes?"
"Is Sinclair with you?"
"Uh—"
"Is Davina there at least?"
"Yes."
"Who else?"
I hesitated before realizing that there was no point in hiding the truth. "Meg."
"Sleep with one eye open." I felt a surge of affection for my friend because he trusted me enough to make the right decisions even when I didn't really trust myself.
"I will," I said as I began to pull the phone away from my ear. "And Jules? Thanks for calling."
When I turned my phone off, I glanced up at Liam whose eyes slid hurriedly to the television screen.
***
I woke up at two in the morning with a choked throat and a rolling stomach. I only had a few seconds to rush towards the bathroom before the contents of my stomach was emptied into the toilet. The next few minutes were spent with me retching miserably as I attempted to tie my hair away from my face when two large hands pulled it into a loose ponytail.
"Breathe," Liam instructed as another round of heaving forced the rest of the burger out of my system.
"I'm fine," I muttered, weakly pushing at his hands. "Just go." I was sick, but not sick enough that I wanted Liam to see my puke. The position we were in was just too intimate with his one hand clutching my hair and the other running soothing circles on my back and shoulders, and I didn't want to be so close to Liam, not when he was the reason everything hurt.
"Please leave me alone," I repeated, but louder this time. "I don't want this."
"Want what?" he asked in my ear, his voice no longer soft but sharp with anger.
"To be close to you." I leaned my cheek against the bathroom wall by the toilet, not really caring if it had been clean since the last guest. "It hurts."
He sighed. "Are you feeling okay enough to go back to bed?"
I nodded, my head hitting his chest as he pulled me into his arms and stood up. It was dark in the main part of the motel room, and I couldn't see Liam's face as he settled me back into my spot on the bed beside Davina who was snoring lightly. When he moved over to the kitchenette to fill up a glass of water for me and place the plastic waste bin beside the bed, the light from the digital clock illuminated his face.
I thought he almost looked sad.
I watched him as he settled back into his cot. We didn't speak, and I didn't fall asleep, too busy watching Liam's restless gestures—tossing under the blanket, sighing frequently, staring out the window as the occasionally set of headlights lit up the room—as sleep evaded him.
***