Page 62

She gave a jerky nod of the head. “Yes.”

Smiling over just how sweetly innocent and beautifully vulnerable she looked at that moment, I started to stroke her hair.

“Well, he brought these seven feathers to our share circle one day and gave one to each of us. He told us to examine how delicate and easily broken our feather was. Then he said, alone, we might feel just as weak and fragile as a single feather. But when put together, feathers can insulate a bird from the cold or keep it dry in water or camouflage it from its prey. A bird can’t fly without its feathers because they create its lift and drag.

Feathers protect it from UV light and from getting bruises and scrapes.

They’re fucking armor. So if you ever feel like you’re going to crumble from the weight and pain of the world, you find me, or Xander, or any other feather out there, and we’ll band together and help shield you. Okay?”

Waverly sniffed and wiped at her cheeks before lifting her arm to show me her feather tattoo. “I got this because of Parker.”

“Parker?” At first, the name meant nothing. Then my eyes flared, and I jabbed a finger into my sternum. “You mean, my Parker?”

She bobbed her head in confirmation. “Parker Ohrley. He brought me a single feather while I was still in the hospital after my suicide attempt. And he told me exactly what you just did. That’s why I got this tattoo.

So I would remember to look outwards when I was having a low day and know I’m not alone. ”

My mouth fell open; I was unable to form words for the longest second.

It was bizarre to hear that the feather talk from our counselor had stuck with Parker too.

We’d lambasted poor Matt throughout the years, calling him a cheesy lame guide.

But the man had always been there for us, and he’d tried his damnedest to help us.

Except realizing Parker had secretly appreciated Matt as much as I had barely even registered because of the shock of learning he’d been there for Waverly after her suicide—that he’d even known her then—and never once mentioned it…

I didn’t much care for the uncomfortable, greasy glob of jealousy that slid over me.

“Just what is your relationship with him?” I asked slowly.

“Not at all what you’re thinking,” she said, looking into my eyes as she touched my face. “He’s just the one who saved me.”

When I squinted, not understanding, she went on. “He’s the one who came across me with all the empty bottles around me. He forced me to sit upright, then he stuck a finger down my throat and made me—he made me throw the pills back up.”

I pressed a fist to my chest, feeling helpless as I listened.

“And then, when I passed out, he loaded me into his car and drove me to the hospital.”

“I…” Shaking my head in shock, I admitted, “I had no idea. He never said anything.”

“That’s because I—” Waverly offered me an apologetic cringe.

“Like Hudson, I never wanted anyone to know. It was so embarrassing and…” Glancing down at her hands, she shrugged before looking up again.

“I think that’s why he kept my secret after the gazebo.

After saving my life, he’s always been kind of protective of me.

Always watching as if he thought I was going to do it again. ”

Rolling her eyes, she added, “He knew you’d be okay if you didn’t know I was your mystery girl.

But he couldn’t be sure how I’d take it if you did find out.

So please don’t hold it against him for keeping my secret.

I think there’s something about saving a person’s life that makes you think you have to keep looking out for them.

Just know, he didn’t do it because you’re not important to him.

I know you are. You’re both part of the seven , for crying out loud.

And I can’t handle the idea of you alienating yourself from one of your best friends because of me. Please… Talk to him again.”

Cupping her face in one hand, I exhaled, freshly amazed by her compassion. “Yes, Mistress,” I murmured with a heated grin as I leaned in to kiss her brow. But the bruise and cut to the right of it reminded me why I was here in the first place.

Pressing my lips there instead of her forehead, I asked, “Is this the only place you’re hurt?” Lifting a piece of her bangs, I eased it aside to look at the gash.

Waverly blinked at me and nodded, letting me know there weren’t any hidden boo-boos that needed a healing kiss, which was really too bad because I would’ve happily laid a big wet one on all of them. And then some.

“So what the hell even happened?” I asked.

Casting a significant glance toward the watching eye of Big Brother, she silently let me know she couldn’t talk about it in front of her parents, which must mean my mother was involved.

Son of a bitch.

I’d been so sure that simply asking my mom to be nice to Waverly would do the trick. But apparently not.

Wanting to go momentarily violent and kick something because I’d failed Waverly, and she’d gotten hurt, I snapped, taking hold of her hand and tugging her with me as I stood. “Come on. It’s cold out here. Let’s go sit in the Jeep and warm up for a minute.”

“Uh…” Waverly glanced back at her front door as if she expected her mom to come charging outside to stop us.

But I glanced at my watch and said to the camera in the corner, “We still have fifteen minutes until curfew.”

So Waverly followed me to the Jeep where I opened the passenger-side door for her, waiting for her to climb up. After shutting her in, I jogged around to the driver’s side and got in with her, starting the engine.

Turning the vents to high heat, I angled them toward her before blowing out a shaky breath and finally meeting her curious gaze.

With a wince, I groaned, “God,” and I took both of her hands, kissing them. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry she did this to you. I’ll talk to her again. I swear. I’ll make her understand; you are not to be hurt.”

Waverly’s brow furrowed in confusion before she shook her head. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“My mom ,” I muttered, baffled that she even had to ask.

Barely shifting my thumb over her injury, I hissed, “Gah. She went after you again, didn’t she?

I hate this. I don’t know what her problem is.

I don’t know why she’s doing it. Maybe being a ghost takes away your humanity or compassion or ability to reason through right and wrong.

I don’t know, but I’m going to find a way to get her to leave you alone. Okay? I swear, she will not?—”

“Oh, she didn’t do this,” Frankie broke in.

I stuttered to a stop and blinked. “Say what now?”

She smiled. “Your mom didn’t hurt me. Not at all. Actually… She saved me.”

Sure I’d heard wrong, I tilted my face so my ear was aimed at her. “Okay, I’m going to need you to start from the beginning.”

With a laugh, she took my hand and squeezed.

“Some of those basketball players that were at the library when you left started giving me a hard time after they saw you kiss me, so your mom—she walloped them with a few books.” Grinning, she added, “You should’ve seen them run out of the library screaming. It was classic.”

“Wait…” I lifted a hand. “A human put this bruise on you?”

Immediately sobering, Waverly opened her mouth once, then closed it, before finally saying, “Actually, I gave it to myself.”

“Okay,” I said slowly, still on alert and tense with anger. “Explain please.”

She cleared her throat. “One of them grabbed my arm like he was going to—you know—force me to kiss him.”

“Son of a bitch,” I growled, grabbing my armrest and gripping it in rage. “Who was he?”

After a brief grimace, she admitted, “I don’t actually know.”

“Waverly,” I warned in a stern voice. “Don’t fucking protect the son of a bitch.”

“I’m serious,” she promised. “I have no idea what his name was.”

“But he was one of the basketball players?”

She hesitated but then nodded. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure.

He comes with them, anyway. But he isn’t the one who did this.

” Motioning toward her face, she added, “After he grabbed my arm, I completely flipped out and pulled away from him, running off blindly to the second floor. And a whole pack of them followed me, thinking it was funny.”

“They what ?” I exploded.

“I’m pretty sure it was my fear and the skittish way I acted that encouraged them.

They probably would’ve left me alone if I’d just told them to fuck off.

But I—I was stupid. I got scared and lost it.

I ran, so they followed me, laughing and calling me names.

And when I hurried down this tight row of shelves away from them, I bumped into a stack of books, where… ”

She motioned toward her bruise. “Anyway, after they cornered me in that back row of shelves by the window?—”

“They cornered you?” My jaw was tense enough to crack iron. But fuck, I was going to ruin a few assholes after this.

“Yeah,” she answered dismissively, motioning past that part. “But your mom went all Rambo on them, throwing half a shelf of books at them to protect me, and they ran off, only to call the university police on me and?—”

“Wait, they called the police on you ?”

“Well…” She shrugged, looking a little rueful.

“Yeah. They thought I was behind the book-throwing attack. But I was sobbing uncontrollably by the time the cops arrived, and I was the one with a mark on me, plus their story that the books threw themselves wasn’t very plausible, so they’re the ones who got taken in. ”

I shook my head, wondering why the hell this story hadn’t been the headliner of the night, only to murmur, “That’s not good enough.”

Those bastards needed more punishment.

Waverly only laughed. “What the heck do you think should’ve happened to them?”