“Clear on the rear.” Cyrus says, casting a glance at Atlas.
“Good over here.” Atlas says, pulling his pistol out of its holster. “Tris, go with her.” He orders, keeping his eyes on the door. “In and out.”
Tristan unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs out of the car. After taking a deep breath, I do the same and slide out of the car and into the oppressive heat to join him. Tristan holds the door open for me, and as soon as my bare feet land on the hot pavement, his powerful arms lift me into the air.
I’m surprised by his sudden closeness and I’m not sure how to feel about it. But before I get too wrapped up in my thoughts, Tristan speaks up. “There are needles on the ground.” He explains, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist.
“Oh.” I breathe, chastising myself for assuming there was more to it than that.
Tristan steps forward, and I fight the instinct to wrap my arms around his neck. This is business for him, nothing more, and it isn’t fair for me to pretend like everything is okay between us after everything I said.
Spotting the hesitance on my face, he stops mid stride and levels his eyes on me. “Cut the shit.” He says, pulling my arms around his neck. “I know what you’re thinking. But none of this changes anything between us.”
“It doesn’t?”
“No. You belong with us.” He says, shifting me closer. “Your s… sister doesn't, but I can’t blame you for wanting her t… to.”
Maybe Tristan’s right. Maybe the blowout in the car is my glaring sign my two worlds can’t mix. My world with The Reapers and my world with Alex are two very different things. I have no business expecting them to collide without a little fallout. But if there’s even a tiny chance of it working, I have to try.
Once we reach the door, Tristan sets me down and takes two wide steps back. As much as I want him close, I’m relieved he gives me a little space. All 75 inches of him would intimidate anyone that up close and the last thing I want to do is scare the shit out of Alex before she gets a real chance to get to know them.
I rap my knuckles against the thin burgundy door and wait for her to answer as my heart thunders in my chest.
Nothing.
Come on, Al. Answer the door.
I knock again, harder this time, and wait.
Still nothing.
Not willing to give up, I step up to the dust coated window and start pounding on the glass.Maybe she can’t hear me.
“Al, it’s me.” I call out, banging my fists harder against the glass. “Open up.”
Still no response.
Thanks to the motel's shoddy craftsmanship, the heavy drapery adorning the windows doesn’t quite close all the way, creating a little pocket large enough for me to peek inside. Peering through the glass, I search the small space and find the room just as I remembered it. Four unsightly beige walls and a simple oak bed and dresser set that’s too large for the already cramped space. The hideous rust-colored comforter looks freshly made, but the familiar clothes strewn around the room and the boxes of takeout perched on the edge of the bed give me hope. Alex isn't here, but she definitely was.
“S… see anything?” Tristan asks, moving closer to me.
“No.” I say, shaking my head as I back away from the window. “She’s not here. But it doesn’t make sense. She’s not in school anymore. She has no one else. Where the hell else could she have gone?”
My own words punch me straight in the gut.She has no one else.
Guilt seeps into me and grips me in a vise.Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.In the last two months, not only did I abandon my little sister at some shit-hole motel, but I missed her eighteenth birthday and her graduation. We were stuck between an armed drug-addict and a group of dangerous assholes, but I’m the one who decided. I’m the one who left.
Pushing the self-deprecating thoughts aside, I shift my focus to the front office. I’m not leaving this shitty motel without my sister and if anyone knows her whereabouts, it’s the nosy lady working the front desk. She gave us the fifth degree when we checked in, and has been watching us like a fucking hawk through her little window ever since we pulled in to the parking lot.
I march towards the front office, but I don’t make it far. Before I’m even an arms-length away, I feel Tristan’s hand wrap around my elbow. “Where d… do you think you’re going?” He asks, whipping my body around to face him.
“To find my sister.” I spit back, shaking off his grip.
I flick my eyes up to cut him a vicious glare and almost immediately pause at the sight in front of me. Cyrus, Atlas, and Ezra have joined him, and are looking at me with the same clenched jaws and narrowed eyes as their brother. The family resemblance has never been more striking.
“No.” Atlas orders, stepping forward to block my way. “You're covered in blood, and my jacket is the only piece of clothing on your body. Coming to her room was our one allowance, but we aren’t wasting any more time on this shit. You’re done for tonight.”
The finality of his words piss me off. I wouldn’t be in this state if it weren’t for Jessie’s obsession with him and his brothers. In fact, if they never made that stupid deal with Malcolm, Alex and I would still be together now. I would’ve never met them, but at least Al and I would be safe. This is all their fault.
