Forget Me Not (19 page)

He moves to stand in front of me, his expression serious, his words soothing. “We’re going to take care of it. We’ll have him back in no time.”

“What does the note say? Will they hurt him?”

“I don’t know. I suspect they’re just using him to lure you out.” Beau’s gaze dances around the room. He won’t look at me.

“Where’s the note?” I ask again.

“You don’t need to see it. It’s gone.”

“I have to go. I have to help him.”

Beau’s eyes finally meet mine and they’re hard, like when Dad’s laying down the law. “No, you don’t. You’ll play right into their hands. You have to stay here and sit tight while our experienced team goes in and gets him out.”

Will sits beside me, staring at Beau without uttering a word. Beau called both of us in here, not just me. Damn it. I’ve thought only of myself. Somehow this news must affect him too. I rock forward in my chair, clutching my knees, guilt and fear snapping at my insides. “What about Will’s family?”

“You’re the one who has caused them trouble, you’re the threat. Will’s just a teenager with knowledge he shouldn’t have, and no contraband tech,” Beau says.

Will presses his palms into his eyes and slumps backward into the chair. “So, they’re okay?”

“Yes.”

Thank God. Emalee, Mrs. Avery, even Mr. Avery. Nothing can happen to them either. They’re like my second family.

“Can Will go home if he’s not a threat?”

“I’m not going without you, Mae.”

“But you—”

“Quit it. I’m not.”

“Our men will arrive soon. We’ll have this resolved quickly,” Beau says.

Everything about Beau’s body language changes, becomes closed off. It’s obvious we’ve been dismissed. Will stands to leave, and I follow. Hostage, hostage. Shards of the word stick into my insides like a physical pain.

With a long, steady stride, I pass Will and go straight to the family room. He rushes to catch up, but I don’t wait. I just walk through the door. Jax lounges in the armchair, his head back, his arms slack on the armrests. He looks up and continues to rub Ace’s belly in slow, idle strokes with his foot. Will takes the other tattered armchair, and I plonk onto the couch next to Lilly. Jax’s eyes meet mine in an emotion-filled look I don’t quite understand.

“Who’s Evan?” I blurt then bite down on my lip.

Jax reaches down and picks a snag out of Ace’s coat.

“He one of the best fighters we have, really experienced in infiltration.” Lilly sighs like she’s gushing over a hot actor. “Why? Are they coming here? Of course Garrett’s coming if Evan’s coming.” She runs her hands over her dress, smoothing it down.

“Don’t worry, Lilly, you look stunning.” Marcus chuckles from his seat by the now glowing fireplace, flicking through the paper Sam left behind. “What’s happened?”

I let out a long breath and run my thumb over my pendant in small, repetitive circles.

“The Collective took Mae’s dad hostage,” Will says.

“When…
how… why?” Lilly moves to the edge of her chair.

Jax is still bent over, playing a game of tap on Ace’s nose. The shaggy dog tries to nip his fingers. The muscles across Jax’s shoulders bunch through his snug T-shirt, and his jaw looks tight. Is he listening or not?

“I don’t know,” I say.

“Beau said there was a note. That’s all we know,” Will says.

Lilly reaches out to pat the back of my hand, her kind eyes round and brimming with sympathy. I have to move, can’t be still. Jumping to my feet, I push Lilly’s hand away and walk across the room to the window, but there’s nothing to see. I turn and walk back to the other side of the room where Marcus sits reading, but I don’t feel any better here, either. Back and forth, still walking. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I need to help.”

Will gets up and stands in my way, holds me by the elbows, and looks into my eyes. “We wouldn’t be any help. We’d get in the way and slow them down.”

I pull free of his grip and push him away, resuming my march. I rub my pendant around and around until the skin on my thumb tingles. “It’s my dad, and it’s my fault he’s been taken. I will do something.”

Jax looks up from Ace, and my skin prickles with the feel of his eyes following me across the room. He puts his feet up on the low table and lounges back in his chair. “We’ll go.”

Jax will go, and he’ll take me. This is good. We’ll go tonight. I stop pacing and look at him. His expression’s pensive like he’s forming a plan. Good, he’s serious about going.

“We can’t go.” Will crosses his arms over his chest, frowning at Jax.

“Of course we can,” Jax says.

“They won’t let us.”

“Who said anything about them letting us? We’ll go alone.”

Will moves closer, towering over Jax, the veins in his neck throbbing in an angry rhythm. Damn. I push Jax’s feet off the footstool and sit on it with my back to him, placing myself between them to diffuse Will’s anger. Will’s jaw clenches and his eyes shoot daggers over my shoulder.

“We can’t go, anyway. We don’t even know where he is,” I say.

“Yeah
, we do. They’ll be holding him in the Council building,” Jax says from behind me.

Will’s face looks strained, his anger building like a bubbling volcano. “Beau said we can’t go.” He puts emphasis on every word, cutting them off like each holds a bitter tang.

A squeak sounds from behind me, a shuffle of movement, and the warmth of Jax’s breath trickles the back of my neck. All the hairs rise, and a shiver trembles from my neck to my toes.

“Do you always follow the rules, Dudley?”

Will’s eyes bulge, and I can tell he’s fighting the urge to lash out with his fists. Jax, don’t goad him. Will continues to scowl over my shoulder. My back and neck warm with Jax’s nearness.

“When the rules make sense, it’s better to follow them than be reckless and get someone hurt,” Will says. Low blow. It’s not Jax’s fault we both came home bruised and bleeding.

Jax chuckles and leans in so close his chin prickles my shoulder. “Scared, Will?”

The look on Will’s face makes my heart stop. It’s the same as that instance with Billy French. The time he tried to force me and spread nasty rumors. Cold, hard, pure anger.

Rolling my eyes heavenward, I clamp my mouth closed to keep from telling them both off.

“Stop it,” Lilly says, and I’m grateful she steps in. I don’t have the headspace right now. “Look, if Beau has Evan, Garrett, and probably Sam on the job, then they’ll have Mae’s dad out and safe by morning,” she says. “You two pull yourselves together and stop behaving like idiots.” She thrusts her finger at Jax and Will in turn.

She has a good point. It’s already late, and we may as well give the infiltrators a few hours. “Let’s sit it out until morning and see if there’s any news.”

I get up and walk out of the family room, my neck still warm from Jax’s breath. No way am I sorting out a fight between him and Will. Instead, I leave them both staring each other down like a pair
of wolves trying to decide who’s alpha.

Halfway up the stairs, Lilly rushes up behind me. “I thought you might like some company.”

My feet hit the stairs, and I roll my eyes. “Ugh, those boys.”

She levels a gaze right at me. “It’s because they both like you.”

Hot air rushes from my mouth and nose in a snortlike noise. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You’re sweet and innocent and beautiful. They love you for
—” She waves her hand before my face. “—this whole girl-next-door thing you’ve got going on.”

“Right. As if.”

She couldn’t be more wrong. Will’s my best friend. Sure he loves me, but not in the way she means. He’s just trying to protect me from Jax, from all boys. After Billy, he trusts no one. And Jax… well, he probably regrets kissing me in the spur of a heated moment. He might feel that pull, the same way I do, but it doesn’t mean he likes me. The distance he puts between us is proof. We only ever talk Collective or tech, nothing about him or me.

We reach my room, pushing the door open, and we both bustle in. She mumbles something under her breath.

“What’s a Dudley anyway?” I ask.

“Not a what, a who.” Her face splits in a snickering smile. “He’s a character out of an old cartoon. A habitual do-gooder.” She shakes her head and laughs.

I chuckle. That’s spot on for Will. “Never seen it.”

“We don’t get cable here, so we’re stuck with commercial television. A few years ago, they reran old cartoons every Saturday morning. Jax and I watched it religiously. Dudley Do Right, he was really funny. Will is a bit like him.”

I used to watch old cartoons on Saturday mornings too. I’d climb into Dad’s bed, and we’d watch together. I bite down on my lip without realizing, and it stings. God knows where they’ve they taken him. Maybe he’s in a prison cell, or tied up in a basement. Maybe he’s got no water, no food. Maybe they’re hurting him, torturing him. I take a deep breath and force the thoughts away, for now. If I don’t, I’ll explode. I need to think about something else.

“Tell me about Evan and Garrett.”

“They’re from another safe house. It’s interstate. Evan is as sweet as they come, but Garrett….” She blushes. “He is totally gorgeous. Even better looking than Jax.”

Garrett did look pretty fine sitting by the fountain, but there’s certainly no comparison between him and Jax. Has there ever been anything with her and Jax? My stomach flips at the thought. “Have you two ever dated?”

“I wish. He thinks I’m just a kid, but he’s only two years older than me,” she says, obviously talking about Garrett because there’s no way she’s two years younger than Jax. “I’ll be back in a second.” She dashes out the door.

I stare out the window into the night. Dudley. A smile spreads, but drops quickly, Dad better be okay.

Lilly rushes back into the room, her arms loaded with bottles and vials, hairbrushes and all things girly. “He’s just so hot, and….” She talks nonstop while she paints my toenails deep red, followed by my fingernails. Then pulls my long hair back into a million tiny braids. Her words all jumble together as a haze settles over my mind. I feel less alone with her here, chattering away. It’s nice, even if I’m not listening. When she’s done I pull on my soft flannel pajamas and snuggle down under the patchwork quilt, listening to her gush over Garrett, Evan, Sam, Will. Every guy she’s ever met.

* * * *

It hits me like a wave of cold water. I sit up straight up in bed, suddenly jarred awake. “There’s a note.”

“Huh?” Lilly stirs beside me. Lucky I have a double bed; she must have crashed.

“Beau, he said they found a note. I guess when they took Dad they left some kind of ransom note.”

“Oh.” Lilly rolls over, not fully awake.

“I have to see that note.” I climb out of bed and pull a sweater over my pajamas.

“What? Where are you going?” She sits up.

“The note, I have to see it.”

“Right now?”

“Go back to sleep, Lilly,” I say, but it’s too late. She rubs her eyes and opens her mouth in a wide yawn.

“It’ll be in Dad’s office.”

We tiptoe along the empty hall, then creep down the stairs. In Beau’s office, Lilly heads straight for the large potted plant next to the window; she lifts it like it weighs no more than a paper ream. The plant comes away from the square pot, which still sits on the ground with an open top. Huh, fake plants.

“I know all his hiding spots. I bet he has it in here,” she says. “I loved pretending to be a spy when I was little.”

I peer into the pot. A pile of papers, memory sticks, and a big wad of cash fill the hollow space inside. I pull out the papers and flick through them, but they’re mostly letters.

“Not what we’re after. Looks like correspondence between bases,” she says.

She continues to read them while I search the desk. Papers are scattered all over it. I’d never get them back in the right spot, so I don’t move them. I glance at the piles, but nothing resembles a note. It’s got to be here somewhere. Bracing the top drawer with a hand to its side, I slide it open. The only contents are stationary and the cell phone.

Nothing more.

I open the next drawer, and a pale yellow envelope sits on top of another paper pile. My name is scrawled across the front in black ink. My name. Not only did he not show me, he kept it from me when it’s clearly mine. The envelope looks familiar. I turn it over. There’s a red wax seal imprinted with an M which is broken. I pull a folded piece of paper out with a trembling hand. It hits me like a slap to the face. This is my letter paper. It must have come from my desk at home. I freeze like a small, scared mouse. I can’t unfold it.

Lilly stills and looks at me. “Do you want me to read it?”

I shake my head, take a deep breath, and unfold the paper. Written across it in the same messy scrawl are the words:

Fiction is Fact. I have your father. Surrender yourself and you will Know the Truth.

LM.