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TREY

There’s a gaping hole in my chest where my heart used to be. My lungs feel tight, and I can’t really feel my arms anymore. I’ve always known that emotional hurt can also make a person physically hurt. I found that out when I was seven.

The pain I feel now is different from the pain I felt when I lost my parents. It’s not that one pain aches more than the other; it’s just a different type of ache. It’s been nineteen years since my parents died, and I still feel the gut-wrenching agony in my chest from that. How many years will it take before I stop feeling the agony of losing Arella?

It took me a while to come to the conclusion that walking away is what’s best for her. It’ll kill me to do it, but I’m going to do it. I love this woman with my entire soul, and if never seeing my face again is what she wants, then okay. I just hope I’ll be able to function after walking away, because the mere thought of having to do it makes me want to leap over the edge of this tire.

Eventually, the trees below us aren’t as dense and we fly over a house. A light-blue Subaru sits in the gravel driveway, parked behind a rusty white pickup truck.

With a soft thud, I land the tire next to the driver’s side of the Subaru. Up the long driveway stands a house with a ton of windows. Inside, it’s dark. The five emotions I sense coming from the house are all muted, which means they’re sleeping.

Arella wastes no time hopping off my lap as if she can’t get away from me fast enough. The last twenty-ish minutes up in the air felt like hours. Neither of us spoke, and she barely even looked at me. I wish I could say it’s just her pregnancy hormones making her give me the cold shoulder, but I’m pretty sure Arella would be acting this way, pregnant or not. I know I deserve it, but it still hurts.

“What are we doing here?” she asks in a low voice.

I reply in an equally low voice, “We’re getting the ordinary kind of transportation.”

Her mouth pops open. “You mean we’re going to steal a car?”

“What did you think I meant when I said we were gonna get a different mode of transportation?”

“I thought you meant we were going to take a bus or something.”

I throw my arms up and spin around. “Do you see any bus stations ’round here?”

She glares daggers at me. Maybe I should tone my attitude down a bit. Yes, I’m emotionally damaged and my ribs are screaming at me with every breath I take, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on her.

“Relax.” I almost call her babe , then stop myself. “We’re just gonna borrow a car.”

“Like how your uncle borrowed me?”

Ouch. She might as well have shanked me with a serrated knife straight through my chest. It probably would have hurt less.

I’m ashamed to call Victor my uncle. Before, I excused his cruelty toward me because I thought he was doing good things for the world. Now that I know he’s just a piece-of-shit double agent, I have no excuses for him. I want nothing to do with him, and I’d appreciate it if Arella would stop calling him my uncle. That man is not family to me, and he hasn’t been for a long fucking time.

Arella crosses her arms over her front. “We’re not stealing a car.”

I wave a don’t worry about it hand through the air. “I’ll pay ’em back later.”

“How?”

“When this is all over, I’ll come back and leave them cash on their front step for whatever this car is worth, plus triple.” I pause and wait for her to give in. When she doesn’t, I sigh exasperatedly.

We don’t have any other options, and she knows it. She’s just so mad at me that she’s being difficult on purpose. Unfortunately, we’re running out of darkness and I can’t keep talking nicey-nice to her anymore, so my tone comes out firm. “Look, Arella. The sun’s about to come up, so we can’t fly on this tire for much longer. We need a car so we can go find a Healer who can fix your arm. The closest Healer isn’t for at least another few hours—by car. I’d suggest we walk, but that’ll take us days, and I can’t wait that long because I’m pretty sure I’ve got a broken rib, and this shit fucking hurts.” I point to my right side, where my throbbing pain is coming from.

Ignoring the misery, I continue my rant. “I’m exhausted from using my powers, both from flying us over a whole-ass forest and from fighting off all those dickheads trying to kill me. Now, can we please steal this car so we can get the hell outta here before the family that lives inside that house wakes up and calls the police?”

Arella softens her defensive stance and gapes at me. “You have a broken rib?”

“I think so. Maybe a few.”

Her jaw drops. “A few? Trey, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not important.”

“Not important? Not even when I was using you as a chair earlier? You winced every time I moved even a little bit, and you didn’t think it was important to tell me you have broken ribs?”

I shrug, and it feels like fire in my ribs to do so. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. We need to get you to a hospital.”

It’s my turn to gape at her. “Are you serious? We’re not going to a fucking hospital. That’s like putting a beacon on our heads to tell the Royals exactly where we are. We’re gonna go find a Healer who can fix me up faster than any hospital can. Now, as much as I enjoy standing around arguing with you, we’ve gotta get going.” I hook a thumb toward the Subaru. “You gonna let me steal this car or not?”

She ponders it for a moment, then says, “Fine, but we’re not stealing this car.”

“You got somethin’ against Subarus?”

“No. I have something against stealing from a family with small children.” She points through the back window.

My eyes follow her finger to two car seats strapped into the back. “What’s your point?”

“It’s expensive to have babies. This family is off-limits.”

Our lives are in danger, and of course Arella still cares more about some children she’s never met than she does herself. She’s been pregnant for, what, a few weeks? And she’s already thinking like a mother. I wish I could say I’m bothered by this, but it only adds to the many reasons why I love this woman.

Reluctantly, I grunt and return my ass to the tire. My side burns the entire time I bend and adjust to sit comfortably—well, as comfortably as I can get.

I spread my legs, then gesture for her to join me.

Arella hesitates. “How should I sit so I won’t hurt you?”

“The way you were before, facing me. Much better than when you leaned your back against me.”

Once she’s back on top of me, I offer her my hand to put hers in. She understands why without me having to say it. After she tells me she’s ready, I fly us over the treetops again.

Two empty roads over, we approach another house.

I’m about to land when Arella says, “We can’t steal from these people either.”

“Why not?”

“They only have one car. What if someone needs to go to work in the morning?”

The third house we find has four vehicles parked along the gravel driveway. The one at the end is a rusty tan Nissan Altima. I almost drop my jaw when Arella doesn’t pick a fight with me about swiping it.

With her hand in mine, I wiggle my fingers at the locks. They pop up with a click, then we climb in.

The car smells like toe jam and expired yogurt. The backseat is covered in fast-food wrappers that have been collecting there for who knows how long. Dripping down the steering wheel is a questionable crusty white spot. I can’t imagine what it looks like under a microscope. I’m so fucking grossed out, I’d rather be back on that tire, but the sun’s peeking up. We can’t risk being seen anymore.

Behind the wheel, I take Arella’s hand again, then point at the empty keyhole. The engine sputters to life, then I ease us away from the house.

“How did you do that?” Arella asks from the passenger seat. She keeps her hand in mine, even though I don’t need her immunity anymore. Now that the car is started, I won’t need my powers for a while. Still, I won’t draw my hand back, nor will I say anything about it. I’ll only have Arella for as long as she needs me to keep her safe. I don’t know how much longer that’ll be, so for now, I’m going to selfishly take as much of her as I can get.

The headlights on this car suck ass. They’re so dim, I can barely see what’s ahead of me. “How did I do what?”

“Unlock the car and start it without the key?”

“Do you know how locks work?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Sort of.”

“You know how keys have those ridges that go up and down? All it does when you stick those ridges into a lock is push the mechanisms up a specific way to unlock it. I simply use my Telekinesis to do the same.”

“But how do you know how far to push up those mechanisms?”

“I just feel it, I guess. Like it just clicks in my brain when I’ve got all the right ones up. Kinda like pushing a button and stopping once you feel resistance.”

She nods with her lips pursed. “Interesting.”

With one hand on the wheel, I make a right turn. Then I glance at the dashboard and groan. “We’re gonna have to stop for gas soon.”

“How soon?”

“We’ve got a quarter tank-ish. There’s no way in hell we’ll make it to Las Vegas on that.”

She twists at the hip to face me. “Why are we going to Vegas?”

“To find a Healer.” Has she already forgotten that I told her that’s what we’re trying to do?

“And the closest one is in Vegas?”

“No, the closest one is in LA, but we can’t go to that one. The Royals know I’m injured. I’d be surprised if they weren’t waiting for us outside the Healer’s shop in LA right now.” And outside my house, Arella’s apartment, our friends’ houses, the Soul House, and any other place we’re connected to.

“Wait. If they’re expecting you to go to a Healer, then why are we going to one? Shouldn’t we do the opposite of what they think we’ll do?”

She’s right, but I don’t know any other options for us. “Can your immunity fix broken bones?”

“No.”

“Then we’re going to Vegas and hoping for our lives that Victor doesn’t already have people waiting for us there too.” I don’t know what I’ll do if Victor ever gets his hands on Arella again. Actually, I do know. It’s violent and inhumane. I’ll make sure he can never touch another innocent woman ever again, and I won’t even feel guilty about it.

“How can a Healer heal me if I’m immune to their powers?”

I slow the car and stop at a stop sign. After checking both ways, I ease back on the gas and keep heading straight. “They can’t, but they’ll have Healing Goo that’ll work on you.”

“Okay. What happens after we visit the Healer?”

“We’ll go into hiding.”

“Where?”

I wait until we pass a dark blue pickup truck driving on the other side of the road before I answer. “Ideally, I’d take you to the safe house my parents left for me, but I can’t find it. So, we’re going with Plan B.”

“Which is?”

I run a hand through my hair until my fingers get caught in some dried blood. “Um, I haven’t figured that part out yet.”

Her jaw drops. “What?”

“Hey,” I say defensively, “my only plan was to get you away from Victor. I haven’t been able to strategize beyond that.”

“So you expect me to just blindly go along with this nonexistent plan of yours? I thought you had more than this.”

“I do. My plan exists. It just exists... in the future.”

She laughs—a really condescending laugh. “The future ? That’s wonderful. That’s just wonderful.”

“All right, Miss Sarcastic-and-judgy, I’m open to ideas if you’ve got ’em. Do you know of a place we can stay where they can’t find us? Preferably underground.”

“Why underground?”

“Trackers can’t sense people while they’re underground. I mean, I could go without using my powers forever, but there are Trackers out there who can sense people without waiting for them to use a gift. They’re rare, but they exist. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Plus, in general, if we’re underground, it’ll be harder for them to find us.”

Our car reaches another intersection. I turn left, hoping it’ll take us toward Nevada. If Arella asks if I know where I’m going, I’ll lie because there’s no way in hell I’m admitting to her that I’m driving off of gut feelings .

I’d use my GPS if I still had a phone. Earlier, after I hover-logged through the forest with Arella slumped over my shoulder, I climbed onto my motorcycle that was hiding behind some trees, then placed Arella over my lap, straddling my front and rode off. I kept her secure against me with one arm while I controlled my bike with the other. We rode away from Shadow Ridge until my damn motorcycle ran out of gas. That’s when I stashed my bike out of sight and continued on foot.

At one point, I stopped to give my arms a break from carrying Arella. When I pulled my phone out of my pocket, it came out in two pieces. I don’t know why I was surprised, because if my ribs got smashed, it’s likely my phone did too, so I ditched the broken device on the side of the road and kept carrying Arella until I found a place for us to hide.

A smelly barn wouldn’t have been my first choice, but at that point, I would have settled for any type of shelter. I was exhausted, everything ached, and I needed to sleep so my body could heal. Unfortunately, the little nap I had did nothing for me. I still feel like I’ve been hit by a train—multiple times.

Now that I think about it, even if I had my phone, I probably wouldn’t turn it on anyway. What if Victor was tracking me on it?

“Is your parents’ safe house underground?” Arella asks.

“Yes, but like I said, I don’t know where it is. I know the general location, but that’s it.”

“How do you know the general location?”

“My parents left me a message—sorry, a riddle , in my childhood teddy bear telling me about it.”

Her eyes go wide as she gasps. “That’s the bear that kept asking you for a password!”

“Correct.”

She perks up in her seat. “What’s the password and riddle? Maybe I can help.”

I don’t want to, but I have to let go of her hand to be able to dig into my pocket. Otherwise, I’d have to drive with my knees, and my body is way too fucking sore for that.

After shifting Arella’s diamond necklace to the side, I find the button-shaped device. I haven’t pressed it since I was whacked against the ground, so I hope it still works.

I press the button.

Nothing happens. No robotic voice saying, “Password?” Not even a sign that it’s trying to work.

I press the device again.

Still nothing.

I flip the device over and find a small crack down the center. Great. With a sigh, I toss it into the sea of trash behind me. “Good thing I’ve got it all memorized. The password to unlock the message was a song my mother wrote for me to encourage me to keep moving forward in life.”

“Can you sing it?” Arella asks.

So I do. “When you’re lost without me, you’ll always have Andy. When you feel you don’t belong, hug this bear and sing this song. Look to the sky when you feel down. Know that things will turn around. Work twice as hard to the finish line. Now it’s your time to shine.”

“That’s some password,” Arella says.

“Yeah, I know.” After a deep breath, I recite the recorded message from my parents, word for word, and try not to choke up at the end. Speaking the message to someone is like admitting out loud that my parents knew whatever mission they were working on could kill them, and they still chose their job over me. I hate having to verbalize that my parents abandoned me on purpose.

“Are you sure that’s it?” Arella asks when I finish. “Did they leave you a map or something? A follow-up message in a second bear?”

“Maybe they did and it got blown up when the house exploded. I dunno. Either way, that’s all I’ve got.”

Arella bends forward and opens the glove compartment. She’s pretty brave to poke through it with her bare hands. I wouldn’t be touching anything inside this biohazard of a car if I didn’t have to.

“What’re you looking for?”

“Something to write on. Aha!” She holds up a crumpled receipt like she’s won a prize. “Now I just need...aha!” She holds up a pen with the most adorable I did it face. “Sing that song and tell me that message again. I’m gonna write both down.”

“Why?”

“Because maybe once it’s transcribed, we’ll be able to see a secret message.”

I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “You think my parents left me a cypher?”

“They could have.”

“They died when I was seven. I wasn’t smart enough to decode a cypher at that age. My theory is that they gave my Aunt Debbie information that was supposed to help me decode this but that information died with her.”

“Come on, Trey,” she says, slumping her shoulders. “At least let me try .”

“Fine.” Slowly, I tell her the lyrics to my mother’s song. Arella scribbles each word down until it fills the entire backside of the receipt. When she’s done, she sits back to admire her work.

“This is wonderful! Now tell me the message.”

I say every single word exactly as my parents said it, until Arella’s got a backside of another receipt covered in her loopy handwriting.

As we continue down our route, Arella reads the words to herself over and over. I remain quiet while she thinks, admiring her determination to solve this puzzle. If I thought my parents had left me a cypher, I would have done this already. I won’t tell Arella she’s wasting her time though. The more she’s thinking about this, the less she’s thinking about how mad she is at me.

I’m going to make this up to her. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but someday, someway, I’m going to make up for my mistakes.