Lost In Lies (18 page)

              Whipping around, Justin grips the weapon firmly, “Alex.”

              Nodding his head, Alex pulls on his tank top, “Justin.”

              “I want the bag.”

              “Sure,” Alex tosses it at me.

              Catching it, I dig through it, looking for the box containing the imprint. Unsuccessful, I toss Justin a shake of my head.

              “I want the imprint back.”

              “And I want to see what’s under Peyton’s top.”

              “That’s not gonna happen,” I cross my arms over my chest to defend it.

              “And now we’re on the same page,” Alex’s wink forces my lips to sneer as I realize he’s cleverly trying to tell us we aren’t getting what we want.

              “Then you’re not getting Lola back,” the threat doesn’t cause Alex to so much as blink twice.

              “Keep her,” he flips his hand at us.

              Not bothered by his lack of concern for her, Lola merely tosses the loose strands of hair that have fallen in her face and tilts her head to the side.

              Under my breath, I mumble, “Wow.”

              “However,” Alex grows the same creepy grin Peter does before he makes a tornado motion with his finger.

              Dark Watchers pop out from the tops of the trees with weapons pointed at us, ambush style. My eyes wander around the multiple faces desperate to put an arrow or bullet in my brain, and I feel my knees tremble for the first time. Scooting closer to Justin, I try to keep up the best front I can.

              “If you’d like to trade her life to save yours, I think I can arrange something,” Alex’s cocky smirk causes Justin to lower his weapon.

              Gently, Justin nudges Lola forward, and she saunters over to Alex before turning her body around for him to untie.

              With a wide smile, Alex sighs, “It’s all right, Justin. Everyone faces defeat at least once.”

              “’Being defeated is often a temporary condition. Giving up is what makes it permanent.’ Marilyn Sovant.” Justin winks at them. Lola giggles, while Alex feels the same disgust that I do.

              “Then until your next temporary condition,” he nods before turning the way they came with the army of Dark Watchers following behind them.

              Once they’re out of sight, I throw my hands in the air, “Now what? We have no leverage, no imprint, and we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere with no way back to shore.”

              “We can always fly,” he floats to his feet before smirking. “You need the practice.”

              Annoyed because it’s true, I rise the way he does and endure a few brief lessons in flight as we navigate toward where I believe I left Nick. Doing my best to keep good balance as I maneuver around trees, we reach him before I realize it. The two of us land beside his motionless body.

              “Is he dead?”

              “Wishful thinking,” Justin says in a monotone before letting out a heavy sigh. “He was hit with a sleeping dart.” His two fingers touch the side of Nick’s neck before declaring, “He’s got maybe another 15 minutes.”

              “What am I going to tell him? I lost my horse during a battle.”

              “How about be thankful you only got knocked out instead of kidnapped like Lola wanted?”

              “Seriously! Could you be sincere for like one minute!”

              “You know.”

              “You don’t have to tell him anything.” The guy we were renting the horses from approaches.

              “Sorry I didn’t come right back, Jake,” Justin apologizes as Eiden follows behind him. “Got, well, busy.”

              “Looks that way,” Jake looks at Nick with a puzzled look.

              “Did you get it back?” Eiden asks. Justin shakes his head, and he continues, “The order’s processed. Packed and ready.”

              “Good deal?”

              “Come on, Justin, you know me! You really think I wouldn’t give you a good deal?” Jake’s motion reminds me of the drug dealers you see on TV who try too hard.

              “Excuse me,” I interrupt. “How do know you each other?”

              “This is Jimmy’s brother,” Justin explains. “Jake, this is Peyton Darling, the first Lost Girl.”

              “Darling, like—”

              “Yeah,” Justin cuts him off.

              “How’d Peter…”

              “I did,” he smiles and nods slowly.

              “Ah,” Jake touches his nose and then points to Justin in a motion of understanding.

              Confused by the secret language they’re speaking, I put my hands on my hips and sigh, “Hate to break up the reunion, but we need to get back to shore. Can you take us?”

              “Of course,” Jake smiles. “I knew she was one of you. Saw the tat. Can’t believe you’re in Landlin.”

              “Know where Jimmy is?” Justin asks as Jake unleashes the horse I tied up.

              “No. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You and I both know my little brother isn’t found until he’s ready.” He rubs the horse on the nose, “Go home.”

              Effortlessly, the horse takes off the direction of the stable, and I tilt my head to the side in confusion, “How did, how did, how…”

              “Magical horses do magical things,” Jake pats my shoulder. “No worries about Wish. He made it home. They always do.”

              A smile crawls across my face as Justin looks at Nick’s body, “I’m not carrying him.”

              “Then wait for him to come around. It shouldn’t be much longer,” Jake shrugs. “Why don’t we catch up a bit?”

              “All right,” Justin nods and looks at me as I slide my body down next to Nick’s. “Have a couple things to do first. I’ll be that way in a sec.”

              Eiden and Jake stroll back the direction they came as Justin points to Nick’s pocket.

              “What?”

              “Grab his cell phone for me.”

              “Why don’t you grab it?”

              “Because I’m not the one who kissed him.”

              My lips slide open to respond quickly, “Look, Justin, I can explain—”

              “You don’t have to,” he lowers to a squat and pushes the hair that’s fallen in my face. “You did what you had to to protect your cover. And as long as that’s all it was, it’s OK.” I smile in relief until he asks, “That’s all it was, right?”

              “Do you even really have to ask?”

              “No,” he touches my cheek. “Get the phone please.”

              I slide my hand in Nick’s pocket and hand it over to him. My face peaks around the phone to see him send three urgent texts to Dubs, with the words, help, I think he’s hurt bad, where are you. Afterward, he makes a call, which after one ring goes straight to voice mail. Pleased, he tosses the phone back beside Nick.

              “What’d you do that for?”

              A simple grin grows on his face before he places a kiss on my forehead, “Glad you’re safe.”

              “Thanks,” I lean against the tree. “See you at the hotel soon.”

              He nods, stands up, and heads the direction Jake strolled away. I lean against Nick, rest my head on his shoulder, and pour my heart out a little, “Look Nick, I don’t really want to do this to you, you know? This whole manipulating you thing was OK when I thought it was just for a room, but now that you have something I really need, it just ... It just feels like you’re feeling like I probably felt—you know, falling in love with the wrong person for the wrong reasons. I mean, I really am a nice girl, and most of what you know about me is real. It’s just ... we can’t really date, you know? I’m, well, a Lost Boy, er, Girl, and I have a boyfriend. I think? All I want from you is that perfume.” There. I said it. The truth is out there, and while he’s unconscious and can’t respond, it doesn’t matter. I feel better.

              Sure enough, after about 15 minutes, Nick comes to, gripping his head like he’s got a massive headache.

              “Geez, my head’s killing me,” he groans, easing his body up. “What the hell happened?”

              “Fell off your horse, hit your head. You were out for a few,” I place my hands on the back of his head, giving it a gentle rub. “You going to be OK?”

              “I hope so,” he rubs the same spot, so that his hands land on mine.

              “We should probably get back and get you some rest, huh?” I remove my hands and give his leg a soft pat.

              “Did you, did you wait here with me the whole time?”

              “I did,” the lie feels natural. “I would have called the boat guy, but I lost my phone on the ride. I just used yours though. Also tried to call and text Dubs—no answer.”

              “Really?”

              “Yeah.”

              “He didn’t, he didn’t call back right away or text?”

              “No. I’m sure he just couldn’t get to you at that moment. He’ll probably call back. If you would’ve been out any longer, I so was going to call 911.” After a small pause, I whimper out, “I’m just glad you’re all right.”

              “Avec vous par mon côté, comment pouvoir je ne suis pas?”

              Impressed that, even after being knocked out, he can still speak French flawlessly, I ask, “What does that mean?”

              Nick takes my hand and lets his eyes fall deep into mine, “With you by my side, how could I not be?”

              Hearing the sound of Jake’s footsteps approaching, I merely help Nick up to his feet and attempt a smile. If he had any idea what I was really doing, he’d know that, with me by his side, he’ll never be all right.

Chapter 7

              Opening the front door to the hotel, I do my best to put on my game face because, chances are, Peter is waiting in the chair to ring my neck. Tiptoeing, hoping not to be noticed, I’m surprised when he’s not there. I’m astonished, frankly, that no one is. Confused, since I’ve become rather accustomed to Aiden on that couch, Peter in that chair, and Eiden lounging on the other one, I stroll farther into the room, where I find Aiden and Eiden sitting on the balcony railing, laughing.

              Aiden shakes his head, and Eiden nails him playfully in the shoulder, looking like brothers, which I rarely get to see. Smiling, I watch as Aiden pretends to be innocent again before Eiden grabs him around the neck and gives a wrestle-style embrace. Slightly touched, I turn my head, hearing voices come from the kitchen. Quietly, I slide over and peak around the corner to see Belle and Peter.

              He’s sitting on the kitchen counter, she’s scooting food around in a pan, and he’s gawking at her. The kind smile is one I’m not very familiar with on Peter’s face, but I’d swear it was one of love. She giggles and hits him on the knee, causing him to genuinely laugh, the way you let your guard down when no one’s looking.

              “Have I told you how lucky I am lately?” his words are sweet. I lean back out of sight, desperate to see him in action out from behind his sarcasm and liquor.

              “Not lately,” she points the spatula at him.

              Peter grabs her by the hand, pulls her over to him, straddles his legs around her, and lowers his forehead, “Well I am.”

              At that moment, I watch Peter lift Belle’s chin up, so their lips touch. Instantly, my heart drops.

              “He is actually capable of loving someone other than himself,” Justin whispers in my ear, causing me to jump in reaction.

              “When did you get here?” I try to regain my breath as my entire back hits the wall.

              “I’ve been here. Saw you spying on everyone,” he slides his hands in his pockets.

              “I wasn’t spying,” I snap quickly. “I was, merely, watching everyone in their natural states without them knowing.”

              “So spying?”

              “Fine. Whatever. It’s just so weird,” I shake my head. “I saw Aiden and Eiden hanging out and then Peter and Belle. It’s like, underneath all the danger and stealing and trash talking, you all, well, really ...”

              “Care about each other,” he fills in the words. “We’re a family, Peyton. It’s what we do. And some days are better than others, but at the end, we’d all put our lives on the line for each other.” Justin lowers his face closer to mine, “And some of us would do it not because we’re family, but in love.”

              I grin widely and get ready to tilt my lips to his when Peter comes out of the kitchen and mutters, “Isn’t that why you two have a room?”             

              My lips press back together as I hit my head against the wall, “Hello to you too, Peter.”

              “I didn’t say hello,” he quickly retorts, the plastic cup once again finding his hand. Heading to the chair, he says, “I assume you’ve got good news for me.”

              “You haven’t told him?” I whisper.

              Justin quickly shakes his head, “Was waiting for you.”

              “Kennedy, Monroe, care to share with the group?” Peter makes a motion at the couch that now has Aiden and Eiden on it.

              “We’ve got news,” Justin tilts his fedora up.

              “You got the impression of the lock?”

              “Peyton did get the impression.” Justin smiles widely before continuing, “It just so happens that it got stolen.”

              “Stolen.”

              “By Alex.”

              “By Alex.”

              “And Lola,” I add to Peter’s chagrin.

              “Yes and Lola.” Peter slowly turns red as Belle joins us.

              “So you’re saying that, not only does Alex have the same blueprint as us and know what we’re after, but now, he has the impression we need to open that damn drawer to steal the damn perfume?!” His rage rattles off his tongue. “How the hell did this happen? Since when does Alex have everything we do or more? Oh, that’s right, ever since we got involved with you!” His finger points angrily at me.

              Quick to rush to my defense, Justin says, “It wasn’t her fault. She was ambushed.”

              “Of course she was!” his snip surprises Belle with its volume. “She’s the weakest damn link! She’s the one you go after, and with you there to rescue her, they have the chance to take out my best man!”

              Hearing him compliment Justin takes me off guard. It’s rare to hear him speak nicely to Belle, let alone to Justin—and all in the same day. Is he sick or just that wasted? And if he is that wasted, whatever he’s been drinking today, he needs to drink more of it. “Peter I—”

              “Shut up.” He holds a hand up to me. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear anything from you right now.”

              Looking deep into my eyes, he glares, and I lower my head, “Right.”

              “Don’t be pissed off at her!” Justin’s defense seems sweet.

              “I’m not just pissed off at her! I’m pissed off at you too! You’re getting sloppy! Your judgment is clouded! God, this is why…”

              “I’m not sloppy! We’re overworked Peter! We all wanna go home. We all need to go home and recuperate. We left one job and went straight into another. Don’t blame her! Blame yourself!”

              Pointing a finger at Justin, he starts, “I swear, you—”

              “Guys!” Belle cuts them off. “Pointing fingers isn’t going to get us anywhere, get the impression back, or fix anything. All we can do now is make a new game plan and move forward with it.”

              Aiden raises a hand, “We, um, have another problem.”

              “What’s that, Dr. Google? Did I hear you say we have another problem?”

              Swallowing nervously, Aiden nods, “Yeah. Peyton, you remember how you asked me to look into your father’s movements?”

              “Yeah,” I answer slowly.

              “He took a flight earlier today back home, where he booked another flight to Landlin two days from now. The only reason he didn’t book one sooner is they were all full—every airline he checked.”

              I feel my heart sink as my body melts against the wall, “How does he know I’m here?”

              “Nick’s father is probably a member of the Precious Society as well,” Peter grumbles.

              “What is that?” I ask.

              He shakes his head, denying me the information, “Not now. What else has Daddy dearest been up to?”

              “Not very much. Bank accounts haven’t had much movement; however, he is making constant calls to one number other than your mother,” Aiden types a few keys and pulls it up for me to see. “Recognize it?”

              Slowly shaking my head, I study it, “No. Can’t you trace it?”

              “Of course,” Aiden chuckles proudly to himself. “But it’s a burn phone. Whoever bought it had the intent of it not being traced.”

              “Great,” Peter grumbles, taking a drink out of his cup. “Just great.”

              “Hey, is there any way you could activate the GPS in the chip and trace it that way, so maybe we get a location?” Justin’s suggestion causes Aiden’s ears to perk up.

              “Maybe. Might have to break a few firewalls or tap into some satellites, but it might be able to be done. Either way, Peyton’s dad is headed this way. He booked the earliest flight that morning. He will land at 6 a.m.”

              “We have two days to get that perfume and get the hell out of here,” Peter sounds more flustered than I think I’ve ever heard him. “Do we have a ship?”             

              “Jake’s working on it,” Eiden shrugs. “I can ask him to speed up the process, but I mean ... He’s already working on good faith from Jimmy. I don’t know how much more luck I can press, man.”             

              “Fix this,” Peter points to Justin. “This is what you’re here for! Make me a plan, fix this, and fix it now. You’ve got 24 hours. Don’t waste them.”

              Annoyed, Peter storms off like a small child to his room. Belle slumps in after him, I’m sure, to attempt to calm his nerves.

              Disheartened that I’m such a disappointment, I toss Aiden a glance as he starts pounding on his computer, “Didn’t want sleep anyway.”

              “Tell me about it,” Eiden mumbles, pulling out his cell phone. Strolling toward the front door, he shoots Justin a look, “Good luck.”

              Justin offers a hand, which I take, allowing him to lead us to our bedroom. Immediately, I take the foot of the bed, pull my legs up to chest, and begin to rock back and forth. Burying my head and tears in my arms, I whimper and let go of all that’s built up inside of me.

              After a few moments alone in my own sorrow, I feel a body slide beside me, wrap an arm around me and sigh, “Wanna talk about it?”

              Lifting my head up, my mascara running down my face, I whimper, “This is just going awful! I’ve been a Lost Boy…”

              “Girl…”

              “Whatever, for like what three days? And I’ve managed to screw us over, almost get us killed, and get you in trouble with Sir Sarcasticness. I’m a mess. I ... miss my mom, and the only thing that would soothe me and help me focus is forbidden to me now.” I tap the corner of the mattress where my sketchbook used to hide. “I feel like a walking mistake—one large disappointment.”

              Justin’s fingertips stroke my arm as my head falls on his shoulder, “Disappointment to a noble soul is what cold water is to burning metal; it strengthens, tempers, intensifies, but never destroys it.”

              Through sniffles, I ask, “Who said that?”

              “Elizar Tabor.” After a pause, he sighs, “We’re going to get through this.”

              “How do you know?”             

              “Because it’s what we do. We’re Lost Boys,” the words are meant to be inspirational, but as someone who knows very little about what being a Lost Boy means, I still feel more lost than ever. Silence fills the room again for a longer amount of time before Justin pops up, grabs me by the hand, and pulls me over to the window.

              “What are you doing?”

              “We’re gonna go down to the beach.”

              “But you have less than 24 hours to fix this.”

              “Then don’t make me wait,” he opens the window and extends a hand for me to take.

              With a heavy sigh, I follow his lead and allow him to fly us into the atmosphere out of sight, through clouds, and over the spot where I was earlier today by the horses. Once we land right in front of them, Star opens one eye to acknowledge that she knows we’re there before closing it to go back into a peaceful slumber.

              “What are we doing here?” I ask, leaning against a tree.

              “Take a seat,” he instructs. “I'll be right back.”

              Unsure, yet willing to trust, I tilt my head up to the sky to stare at the stars searching for the nebula, the doorway to somewhere else. Somewhere magical. I was certain when I said, “Off to Neverland,” that we would actually make it there, but at this rate, I’m not sure we will.

              Justin returns, sits down beside me, and offers me a stick. Confused, I scrunch my nose, “What’s that for?”

              “To draw,” a smile crawls on his face.

              “What?”

              “You aren’t allowed to draw with pencil and paper right?”

              “Right.”

              “So use the stick like you would a pencil and the sand,” he points to the abundance by my feet, “like paper.”

              “You do know it’s not the same right?” It’s easy to see how he could think it’s the same. In theory, yes, the motions and movements are the same and maybe even the end picture, but if he were just to look at this art a little closer, he’d see, it’s really not. Deep within my brain, a sleepy idea turns over, something important, about something seeming the same but not being the same.

              “Yeah, but it might help. I hate seeing you so miserable, and I know how tough it is to give up the only thing that could probably soothe all your worries and insecurities. Just try it.”

              With a tentative smile, I lean forward and begin to draw the outline of a head to find out Justin’s right. To a certain degree, a bit of pressure is relieved. While it may not draw the same as a pencil, it erases a lot smoother.

              Justin puts on a contented smile, leans back on his palms, and lets out a sigh, “Peter was mad.”

              “No kidding,” I mutter, attempting to perfect the shape of Nick’s face. The shape, the lines, Nick’s face, Nicks dreams ... That sleepy idea I had is reaching for the snooze. After a small beat, I stop and look over at Justin, “Can I ask you something?”