Hero Reborn (Keepers of Justice, Book 3) (27 page)

“That doesn’t look good,” Kale says. He and I are on the grass near the cliff, watching the waterfall crash into the rocks below

“Yeah. You think she’s going to be okay?”

He shrugs. “My parents said they’ll do whatever they can to make sure no one hurts her. But I don’t know. Why’s she so determined to stay with them?”

“She promised her mom. She’s protecting us. And Lindsay, too.”

“I know.”

Stealth and X head toward us with their hands clasped. Kale looks at X, asking if he succeeded in convincing her. X shakes his head. “Stealth,” Kale says. “Please tell us where your headquarters is so we can free you and Lindsay. Do it for Lindsay. Do it for X.”

The tears run down her cheek. “I…I can’t.
You’ll come after us, and my mom will run away with Lindsay. What if she blows up the world?”

X strokes the side of her face. “Please, Ella.”

“No. Not yet. I need to find out where she’s keeping Lindsay before you guys come.”

“But how will you?” Kale asks.

She bites her lip. “I’ll find a way.”

X nods. “We’ll keep in contact and help you.” He hugs her tight. “Be careful.”

“I will.”

Suddenly, the
place gets so windy that we’re thrown off our feet. Gusts of wind bang into us, making it hard for me to breathe. The guys, Stealth, and I grab on to trees. I can hear the water smashing into the rocks.

“What’s going on?” I yell as my body flaps around
like a flag.

“Ella, please relax,” X says.

“It’s…it’s not me,” Stealth gasps, her gaze on the sky. I look up. A red, orange, and yellow masked face floats there. Vlayne, with a wicked smile on her face.

“
You need to leave!” Stealth yells.

Vlayne’s full body appears and her hands reach
around the tree to grab Kale.

“
Holy crap!” He runs toward the other end of the cliff. “Stretch, get us the hell out of here!”

Her hands aim for me now. I
shut my eyes and focus. The next minute, the guys and I fly through the sky.

We spring up in our beds.
They look like they witnessed death. “G-guys, what was Vlayne doing there?” I ask.

“Reading Stealth’s mind as she slept,” Kale says. “She saw everything
that was happening in the dream.”

“Does this mean she knows I can go into dreams?”

“She must suspect Stealth was the one who told us everything—even though Stealth doesn’t remember doing so—and wanted to know how she gave us the info,” X says in a hollow voice. “And now she knows. We can’t ever go into Stealth’s dreams again. We’ve put her in enough danger.” He softly punches his mattress.

“D
-do you think Vlayne will hurt her?” I ask.

X’s eyes fill with a mixture of pain and rage.

“This is all my fault,” I say.

X shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself.”

Quiet.

“So how do we
find the Blades?” I ask.

X gets up and walks to
the wall. He leans his head on it. “We search. Day and night.” He turns around. “We find out where they’re holding Lindsay, then we save Stealth, and attack. I’m not going to stop. Not until they’re safe.”

Kale and I exchange a glance.
“I’m with you,” he says.

“Me, too
.”

Note: This excerpt contains profanity.

Chapter One

Cruiser

“Elvis, feet off the furniture.”

Mom barges into the room. Steps in front of the TV.

I munch on a potato chip. “Name’s Cruiser.”

She folds her arms over her chest. Stares me down. I clench my jaw.

“You’ve been back only a week and all you’ve been doing is stuffing your face with junk and watching even more junk on that damn TV. Why can’t you be more like your brother? Reagan spends his afternoons out with his friends, or playing the violin, or doing extracurricular activities—”

“I get it.”

She shuts her mouth. Lifts a finger. “Don’t interrupt me.”

I’m sixteen years old. Don’t go wagging your finger at me.

She steps closer to me. Hovers. “I don’t know what nonsense your grandfather put in your head, but in my house we do as I say. And right now, you’re getting up and cleaning this mess.” She gestures to the potato chip bags and empty soda cans cluttering the table and couch. “Do you understand me?”

“I get it. Can I watch my show now?”

She pushes my legs off the table. Stomps out of the room. I prop them back on and tune in to
Navy SEALS: Untold Stories
.

A soft voice floats in through the window. Plants itself in the depths of my soul. I grunt and stalk over, preparing my mind for the sight I know will hurt me. I push aside the curtain and peer out. Almost drag it back when I see her sitting on his lap.

Lex Woods.

She’s cuddling my brother as they sway back and forth on the swing my parents built when we were little. Her wavy black hair blows in the wind. My hands itch to run down her body, slide down her thigh. I imagine sneaking in kisses as the wind carries her hair off her neck. Wish I could pluck her off the swing, into my arms.

I snap the shade shut. My twin never bothered to send me the memo that they got together. Six months ago. Not even an email.

I plop down on the couch.

The lovebirds appear ten minutes later, hand in hand. I yank my eyes away from their interlocked fingers, to the TV screen.

Rey drops himself on the adjacent recliner. “Pass the chips, Cruise.”

I grab the bag and hand it over. Keep my eyes on Rey. I don’t want to meet her gaze. Can’t. Haven’t seen her in over a year. She’s so beautiful.

She sits on the recliner’s armrest and twists her body away from me.

Rey chomps on some chips. Washes them down with my nearly-empty can of soda. Flicks it at my face. I catch it in my hand and hurl it back at him. Rey’s what you’d call physically uncoordinated, so it comes as no surprise that the can bounces off his shoulder and onto the floor.

My gaze creeps to Lex. Her eyes are on my face, for half a second. She jumps to her feet and says, “Let’s go.”

“Where are you two off to?” I ask.

“This new restaurant opened down by the beach.” Rey stands and puts an arm around his girl, pulling her close. “Derek told me they have these sweet baby ribs.” He grins down at her. “Perfect for our special night.”

“Special night?”

“Our six month anniversary.”

Fuck.

“Have fun.” I turn back to the military channel.

“Man, you need to find a chick and double date with us sometime.”

I emit a fake laugh. “I got enough girls lining up, Rey.”

Lex tugs on his arm. “I want to be back in an hour. Rosie’s coming home from physical therapy.”

My eyes slowly trek to hers. “How is she?”

She presses her lips together before saying, “None of your business,” then grabs Rey’s arm and pulls him out of the living room. I mute the TV. Though they’re whispering, I hear every word perfectly. Must be twin telepathy or something.

“Hey, hey,” Rey says. “He was just asking.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, and I should stop blaming him for everything that happened. But I just feel like…never mind. Let’s go.”

“Sure you’re okay?”

A seven-second pause. Yeah, I counted.

“Let’s go,” she says again.

The door shuts.

I get to my feet and scan the room. It’s not such a mess. I almost forgot how crazy Mom gets.

After cleaning up, I stretch my arms. Walk to the door. I feel like going for a ride.

Mom’s on the phone in the kitchen. Dad’s at work. Rey’s out with Lex.

No one will miss me.

Chapter Two

Lex

I push the door open and step into the living room. Just like every evening, my eight-year-old sister is perched on the sofa, staring at her laptop. Her wheelchair is close by.

“Hey, Rosie.” I sit down and wrap my arm around her shoulders. “How’d it go?”

She’s wearing her favorite outfit today—jeans and a T-shirt with the words “Real Girls Have WHEELS” sprayed across the front in hot pink letters. I bought it for her a few months ago, and Rosie fell in love with it the second she saw it.

Her gaze is still on the screen. “Fine.”

“Do you like the doctor?”

She clicks the mouse. “Yeah, he’s nice.” Digging around in her pocket, she pulls out some stickers. “He gave me these. I told him I’m too old for stickers, but he said I’m not too old for anything.” She rolls her eyes. “Want them?”

I smile. “Okay. I think I have my old sticker book somewhere.”

I’ve lost count of how many doctors Rosie’s seen over this past year. Twenty? Thirty? Each one starts off the same. He learns about her situation, examines her, and then sets up an intensive plan that “will surely bring even the smallest results.” Every time, Mom’s eyes shine with hope. Mine used to shine the same way. So did Dad’s, and Rosie’s, too. But the light left our eyes after a year of seeing…nothing. Mom’s just won’t die.

Rosie continues playing her game. There’s so much I want to say, but the words stick in my throat. No one understands what she’s going through—she’s made that clear. The last time I told her to keep her chin up, she yelled, “Leave me alone.”

Rosie hugs her pink, worn-out stuffed elephant to her chest.

“So the program was intense, huh?” I ask, squeezing her close. She shrugs. “Are you tired?”

She shrugs again.

My fingers play with her black hair. It was soothing when Mom did that to me when I was younger. Rosie’s head droops toward my shoulder.

“I’ll tell Mom to help you get ready for bed. Okay?”

She doesn’t protest, unlike the years before the accident. It’s only seven o’clock. If things were different, if Rosie was her old self, her head wouldn’t rest on my shoulder and she’d whine to stay up as late as her big sister.

I head to the kitchen where my parents are at the table drinking coffee, and sit down near them. “How’d it go?”

Mom takes a few sips before turning her full attention to me. “It’ll be hard to adjust to at first, but Dr. Griffin is positive this new program will do wonders for Rosie.”

My father’s staring at his full cup. “Dad?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer at first, as if his thoughts are drowning in the liquid. After a moment, he gets to his feet, and the coffee sloshes onto the table. “It’s useless.” He spills the rest down the drain.

“Jack—”

“It’s
useless
, Lisa!” He dumps his mug in the sink. “This new program will cost us more than I make in half a year. And for what? To be told once again that Rosie will never walk?”

“Dr. Griffin—”

“Is no miracle worker!” He glances toward the living room and lowers his voice. “It’s been over a year and Rosie hasn’t regained any movement in her legs. The chance of a recovery is slim to none.”

Tears glisten in Mom’s eyes. “Jack…”

“Why do you insist on dragging our daughter from one doctor to another? Leave it alone. Come to terms with the fact that Rosie will never walk again. Count your blessings, Lisa, because we sure have plenty.”

He marches down the hall and locks himself in the den, which he likes to call his study even though there’s nothing there except for a TV and a recliner. He does that a lot.

Mom rubs her temples, sighing as though someone’s sucking the energy out of her body. Heaving herself up, she pours her coffee down the drain and stands there, shoulders rising and falling as ragged breaths leave her mouth.

Finally, she turns around, gives me a strained smile, and wanders to the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?”