Get Lost (12 page)

“Why’s he on that?”

“Well, we wouldn’t be very good teens if we weren’t on it, now would we?” The answer causes me to toss my head back in laughter. “What? I’m just saying times are much different than when I was seventeen the first time.”

“And when was that?”

Justin shakes his head slowly. “That’s information I’m not giving up.”

“Ever?”

“At least not now.”

After a brief pause, I clarify, “Well, for the record, I don’t use it very often.”

“You do now.”

“What?”

“Yeah, Aiden gave your profile a makeover and constantly updates it.”

“But how does he…” I cut myself off, realizing he hacks for a living, so bypassing a few security measures probably makes him laugh. “Do I at least look good on the site?”

“Of course. He started it when we started dating, so it centers on that, you know, to keep questions to a minimum. He has entirely too much fun on that thing.”

“Where’d he get the pictures?”

“Me.” I shift as I begin opening the different paints.

“You…kept the pictures we took?”

“Of course.” He adjusts his loose, white tie. After a soft bite of his own bottom lip, he clears his throat. “Anyway, Eiden had a meeting with Jimmy, and Peter had a date.”

“With Belle?” The sarcastic look I receive causes me to nod slowly. “Silly question. Well, hopefully he’s not floating into her window like he did mine.”

Defensively, Justin snaps, “What?”

“Yeah, he floated in on me while I was sketching earlier. Wanted to talk about last night.”

“I told him everything went fine last night.”

“He said he hadn’t spoken to you.”

Frustrated, he rests his head back against the door, slowly shaking it. “Peter has this way about him. If he wants something, he’ll do whatever it takes to get it.”

With a soft smile, assuming he’s talking about me, I begin painting. “Justin, are you worried that he wants me? Or that I might want him? Come on, he’s not my type. I love tall, dark, and handsome guys who wear fedoras everywhere.”

Justin laughs. “Oh, do you?”

“Yeah, and those who  can’t  can  leave  their  ties at home.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles.  “Good,” I hum out as I continue painting.

The two of us continue to engage in playful conversation until the painting is finished, which is when we have a romantic picnic dinner by candlelight.

Halfway through the meal or so is when I notice Justin staring at me in a way that I don’t recognize.

“What?” I feel compelled to ask as a piece of raspberry cheesecake lands in my mouth.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Always.” My fork clinks against the plate. “Would you ever consider going to Neverland?”

A piece of cheesecake gets wedged in my throat for a moment. I hurriedly try to swallow it and pat my chest to regain a clear airway.

“A no would’ve been okay.” Justin takes a bite of the cheesecake while laughing.

“Choking is no laughing matter.” I grab the wine glass containing sparkling water. After a long  sip, I take a deep breath. “Was that a real question?” Once I receive a nod, I lean back, so my body is against the bench. “I mean, I love it here, you know? My parents, the gallery, and the museum. They are places that I feel comfortable and safe, but…”

Full of hope, Justin looks up. “But what?”

“But, with you, life is exciting! I’m always in the middle of some kind of battle or being rescued from danger. I’ve made friends and been to parties. Aiden and Eiden are like big brothers who watch out for me, and while being an only child is fun, I like the feeling of being a part of a bigger entity. Plus, I’m beginning to realize that, whenever I’m not with you, I’m wishing I was.”

“Peyton, I…” Justin starts but is immediately cut off by the sound of something crashing.

Quickly, the two of us rise to our feet and look around for signs of the Dark Watchers. Justin protectively places a hand around on my lower back as we scan the boat deck for some sort of clue. Once we feel safe enough, we sit back down together on the blanket, this time side by side.

I pull my hair to one side and gently stroke his leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” he starts again but instantly stops as a huge gust of wind sweeps past us, knocking over the candles, which catch the corner of the picnic blanket on fire—and part of the ship.

Justin tosses a handful of fairy dust on top of it, while my attention focuses on the odd gust of wind that now seems to have a hold of my painting. As I reach for it, it lands on the taffrail, splitting the unfinished work down the middle, leaving the piece without his face shaking, while the other flies off into the distance toward the very nebula I painted.

With a defeated face, he sighs. “We should go.”

“Good idea.” I start cleaning up the destroyed dinner with him, discovering a small, neon green feather. With a soft smile, I show it to Justin. “Look at that. I wonder what kind of bird this came from?”

After staring at it for a moment, he slowly takes it from me. “The jealous kind.”

Baffled as to why it has him so captivated, I continue picking up the remains of another ruined romantic evening.

Chapter Nine

With three days left and all the pieces in place, a little relaxation seems well deserved. However, I’ve been hanging out with Justin long enough to know better than to believe life is ever that easy.

Exiting the restroom, I head back to the courtyard where the annual school carnival is bursting with activity. I’m confused as to why Justin isn’t waiting outside for me like he usually is. I look around only to spot him talking to a girl close to the dunking booth. Slightly tense any time he talks to another female, I cross my arms and watch the two engage in what appears to be a flirtatious  conversation.

“No worries.” Eiden hops on the railing beside me.

Taken off guard by his appearance, I place a hand on my heart. “Don’t scare me!”

Eiden laughs. “Sorry. I forget how jumpy you are.”

“I’m not jumpy,” I mutter under my breath. “And how do you know there’s nothing to worry about? Do you see that girl? She’s gorgeous with her long, blond hair, perfect makeup, and stiletto heels.”

“I’m glad that’s what you see.” Eiden taps his tennis shoes against the railing. “Ten bucks says that’s not what he’s doing.”

“You’re on.” I give Justin a wave when he finally looks in our direction.

Justin hastily joins us, one hand in his pants pocket, the other adjusting the baby blue tie, the first colorful tie I’ve ever seen him wear. “There you are.”

“Oh, here I am,” I echo sarcastically, placing my hands behind my red sundress. “Where were you?”

Eiden chortles under his breath, as Justin tilts his hat to the side. “I was talking to Christy. She’s head of the yearbook and was wondering if we wanted to be voted this year’s Fall Couple.”

“Really?” My eyebrows rise suspiciously.

He nods, and Eiden invites himself into the conversation. “Hey Justin, when you see a girl like Christy, what do you notice? How hot her hair is? How tight that brown sweater is? Or, how great her legs look in that  mini skirt?”

Justin pulls on the sleeves to his black button up shirt, not even bothering to look back. “You mean  do I notice that she’s a six dollar, dyed out of the box blonde, that her sweater is a knock-off version of last year’s Chanel couture, or that her heels are beige, while her skirt is off white?”

“Wow,” my voice whispers, “that was harsh.”

“Girls like that are a dime a dozen, and all of them think a guy doesn’t know the difference between a cheap trend and a glowing classic.” His eyes meet mine before tipping his hat at me. My head slowly turns to Eiden, who has a painfully cocky sneer, which prompts Justin to ask, “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Peter sent me.” he grips the edge, his T-shirt catching my attention because it has two arrows on it pointing toward his arms with the words Gun Show, “about an hour and a half ago. But I didn’t want you two not to have any fun, so I waited. However, he’s sent me six texts the last two more than threatening so if we could please…”

“Yeah.” Justin nods, offering me his hand to hold.

The three of us stroll to the car, where we waste no time hopping in, and head to the apartment.

About halfway there, I glance over my shoulder. “Any idea what he wants?”

“No,” Eiden taps the side of the convertible, “but he looked less than pleased before he left.”

“Wait, you said he requested us.”

“Yeah, but he said he had something to do and to make sure you two were back before he was,” Eiden explains as Justin pulls his car into the garage.

The three of us hustle up the stairs and into the apartment where Aiden is happily typing  away  on the computer.

“Hey, guys.” He pulls out his earplugs and dusts the chip crumbs from his brown polo.

“Hey,” I respond while the others wave. “Justin, do you mind grabbing me some water?”

“Of course, babe.” He plants a kiss on my cheek.

Plopping down on the couch, I ask Aiden, “What are you doing?”

“Updating Justin’s  profile with some recent  pictures of you two and commenting on his friends’ photos.” I nod slowly.

“Hey, there’s juice in here!” Justin yells, expecting the other two to respond. When not receiving an answer, he repeats himself.

“Yeah, Belle made it earlier. She wanted some to go with her sandwich,” Eiden calls from beside his brother. “Dude, that’s lame.”

“What’s lame?” Justin sits down on the arm of the couch before handing me my water and placing his juice on the table.

“This picture.” He shakes his head.

As Eiden struggles with his twin, who resists his attempts to turn the picture around, Peter climbs in through the window with a cocky grin and familiar red cup in his hand. “Ah, at last, the lovebirds.”

Justin snips, “What? Can’t think of another name?”

“Not a PG one,” the response grabs the twin's attention.

“Have you been drinking?” Justin asks, reaching for his own cup.

“Yup.” Peter has another sip.

My voice quickly squeaks, “And driving?”

“Flying.” Peter corrects me with a pointed finger. “There are no stupid laws about that in this world.”

“That’s because we can’t fly,” I state loudly.

“You don’t say.” Peter gets defensive as Justin  has another sip of juice.

“What did you need us all here for?” Eiden asks. “You two are just here to watch the show.” The grin on his face makes me uncomfortably shift my body.

“You two, you two have been pretty happy, huh?”

“Yeah,” I answer cautiously as Justin continues chugging down the juice. I assume that he is thirstier than he thought.

“You two have gotten pretty close, right?” He licks his lips at me before glancing at Justin. “Looks like you two are really in love.”

“Well…” I look up at Justin with hopeful eyes to see him try to hide a soft smile.

“So, that means you two must be pretty honest with each other, right?” Peter asks before raising the cup to his mouth.

Justin glances at the empty glass he just finished and shakes his head. “Peter, please don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I ask quickly.

“That means Justin’s told you about his past, right? You know, before he was a Lost Boy.” The words leave his mouth with such derision.

“Yeah.” My answer slowly leaves my mouth. “Peter, don’t.”

“Did he tell you the truth or give you that sob story about wanting to be a traveling musician, blah, blah, blah.” The words sting my heart.

My jaw slides open; I’m unable to respond as he cocks a half grin. Justin calmly says, “Please, Peter.”

“By your reaction, I’ll take it that he told you the little fantasy lie he likes to tell. Tell her the truth, buddy. What did you love more than   music?”

With a hateful look on his face, he doesn’t break eye contact with Peter, “Money.”

“Money.” Peter joyfully tosses his hand in the air, “You don’t say! Money and what?”

“Power.” The answer surprises me enough to sit up and lean over.

“Justin,” I call his name in hopes he’ll turn his head to speak to me. “What’s he talking about?”

“You know, Justin’s the biggest con of us all. Yeah, he liked music. Hell, he was great at it. You really should’ve heard him play. But, it wasn’t his true passion. What was going on when I finally met you, Justin?”

Justin’s jaw bobs uncontrollably before belting out, “Conning girls out of their bank accounts and…”

Peter quickly interrupts, “In fact, when I got around to finally meeting this beautiful artist,  what  were you doing?”

Taking off his fedora, he tosses it to the side with a heavy sigh. “I was wanted on criminal charges in thirty two states and had just finished my biggest con yet. I scammed more than a million dollars out of the vice president’s daughter.”

“You what?” I exclaim, moving my body so I can see his eyes, which have a glazed over, dead look inside.

“Tell her what you would  do,”  Peter  insists,  tilting his cup at Justin, who seems to have tears choking his throat.

Trying to breathe through them, he takes deep breaths. “I would research and target the girls I wanted to con. Change my behavior, my looks, and my attitude to accommodate what they wanted. I would promise them the world on a silver platter, to love them, cherish them, and be everything they needed. Meanwhile, I was accessing their bank accounts while they slept, draining them dry. I knew exactly where to put the money, what to say to, what to do, and where to go in order to make it as though I never existed.”

Proudly, Peter states, “I saw him in action after his little presidential stunt and knew I had to have him as part of my team. I got him because I realized that if I needed to be a chameleon in this world, I needed to be able to do it better than just on paper. I needed a con artist who already knew how to work this world over.”

I nod slowly as my heart feels like it’s literally caving in. “Have you…have you been conning me?”

While Peter continues sneering proudly, Justin

allows a tear to fall from his face as he nods at me.

“When? This whole time?”

“I…”

“I want specifics!” I scream, stomping my foot in an attempt to not cry. “When you fell into my desk that day?”

“Yes. I got my phone stolen on purpose, so I could get a copy of your information, class schedule, home address.”

“What else?”

“The next day, when Peter came in, I stole your key to the art lab to steal a copy of the art teacher’s personal storage key. She has a stash of personal paints, which were the types you needed to paint that replica.”

“You stole from her? She trusts me!” I snap loudly as he adjusts his tie.

More tears fall down his stone cold face, which shows no emotion, though his voice shakes, “The day of the party, I asked to use the bathroom so I could scope out the kind of tools I would need to pick the lock on your father’s office. The day I had flowers delivered to you, I did that so I could sneak in successfully.”

I wrap my arms around my cramping stomach and whimper, “God, what did you need from him?”

“His signature, so I could successfully forge some documents.”

“Wonderful, isn’t he?” Peter injects, chuckling as beads of sweat drip down Justin’s  black shirt.

“So, is everything out of your mouth a con?”

“No.” The word is stated with more passion than the

rest. “No!”

“Why should I believe that? I was dumb enough to believe everything else.” I run my fingers through my hair. “Is everyone in on this? Does everyone know how you’ve been lying to me? Wait, that’s a stupid question. Of course you do! This is what you people do.”

“Peyton, I know how this looks.”

“It looks like I should have been watching your every move instead of the distractions, right? It looks like I should’ve taken the advice you gave me the minute we met.”

“Peyton, I…”

“Trouble in paradise?” Peter chuckles, lifting the cup.

Aggravated, Justin turns to me. “Ask me about why we needed your help. Ask me for the truth on that.”

“Don’t ask him that,” Peter quickly interjects. “Don’t ask him that.”

“Why do I have to ask? Why can’t you just tell   me?” I sniffle away the tears that are desperate to escape me. Justin’s eyes linger deep in mine before it hits me. “Did you drink Narcturnal?” He nods and I snap, “Who gave it to you?” Immediately, I shake my head slowly. “Peter.”

“That’s low,” Eiden mumbles. “Real low,” Aiden echoes.

“What?  Wouldn’t you rather know the truth about your beloved before he tries to take you back to Neverland?” His shrug causes Justin to tilt his head to the side.

Rising to his feet in a defensive way, he says, “I never told anyone that other than her. The other night on the boat…”

“That was you!” I screech. “You ruined our date.”

“Maybe.” Peter proudly shrugs, approaching Justin, the two of them now in front of me, positioned for what looks like a war. In a low grumble he thinks I can’t hear he gripes, “Broke my favorite necklace in the process.” Full  of  annoyance,  I  snap  my  head  back  at   him.

“Why do you really need me to be part of this plan?”

“Because  you’re  a  Darling—”  is  all  that  escapes

Justin before his body is tossed onto the coffee table, shattering it.

I jump out of the way and then watch Peter throw a punch into Justin’s side, forcing him to yelp in pain. The two of them begin to wrestle on the floor, punches thrown wildly, headlocks slipping, until Justin finally gets in a good swing, landing his fist on Peter’s jaw, knocking  him over.

“You really think we couldn’t steal a painting without you?” Justin whimpers, holding his ribs. “You just heard him. I stole more than a million dollars from the vice president’s daughter. You don’t think I could steal a painting from a museum? He needed me to get to you.” Suddenly, my mind starts racing, and Peter turns toward me as he attempts to recover from the punch.