Tarnished (11 page)

“Are you sure you can get in there without anyone seeing you? There might be security cameras and stuff.”

“There aren’t any.”

“There aren’t or there weren’t?” Missy asked. “You have no idea what he could have put in since you’ve been gone.”

“Fine,” I said. “I won’t go through the house. There’s a trellis I can use to get to the second floor.”

Missy sighed. Obviously my meager plan didn’t fill her with confidence. “And then what? You’re just expecting that he’ll come with you?”

“Yes.”

It must have sounded absurd to her. Maybe it was crazy to think that I could climb into Penn’s room like one of those princes in Ruby’s fairytales and just sweep him away with me.

“Okay,” she said after a minute. “Let’s just say it all goes smoothly and you can waltz in there without getting caught and then convince him to come with you. I sure am hoping that he’s going to have some grand plan for us after that, because this is as far ahead as I’ve planned. You asked me to get you here and I did it.”

“And I’m really grateful to you,” I told her.

“Well, I hope your gratitude comes with a place to sleep and food to eat.”

“I wish I could promise you that.”

“Oh never mind.” She shrugged. “Right now we just need to find a place to hide for a couple hours. We’re way too close to the road right here.”

She began walking through the undergrowth, pushing aside branches as she went. The ground sloped a little, opening up into a small drainage ditch. Beside it, a large pine tree rose into the sky.

“This is perfect,” she said, motioning for me to follow her as she stooped beneath some boughs. The lowest branches reached all the way to the ground, forming a shelter. Inside, it was dark, but with what little light that shone through, I could see that the ground was clear of almost anything but pinecones. The blanket of dried needles that covered it all was surprisingly soft as we lowered ourselves onto it.

“Do you think you could find this tree again if you needed to?” Missy asked.

“I think so.”

It was a tall tree, taller than most of the others that grew around it. But even if I couldn’t spot it from a distance, I was pretty sure I’d be able to make my way back to it.

“Good,” she said. “This is where we can meet up later.”

“You’re not coming with me?” The panic in my voice was clear.

I don’t know why I had assumed that she’d go with me. But the thought of returning to the congressman’s house by myself made me lightheaded. I leaned back against the prickly bark of the tree trunk and took a deep breath.

“You’ll be fine,” Missy said.

“But wouldn’t it make sense for you to come?” I asked in a small voice. “You could keep an eye out just in case someone sees me.”

“You’ll be fine,” she said again.

“Do you
want
me to get caught?” I blurted, as surprised to hear the idea spring from my lips as Missy was.

“No.”

Her answer was flat, devoid of the normal spark that usually annoyed me. It was a dull answer and I couldn’t tell whether she was bored by me, or whether she was lying.

My throat felt dry, parched, as I tried to swallow back the fear that was creeping up inside me, but it only climbed.

It didn’t make sense for me to trust Missy, but I had. From the moment she’d shown up at the refugee center, I’d let my need to get back to Penn blind my suspicions. I’d been so focused on getting back here, that I’d pushed away my doubts and fears, not giving enough thought to
why
she’d agreed to help me.

But now, I couldn’t help but wonder again.

Above us, a gust of wind blew through the trees and I tensed at the sound. I’d never realized how noisy these woods were. The crack of sticks, the rustle of leaves, each sound made me bristle. I thought I’d gotten used to the sound of these trees at night, but that had been before.

It was funny to think how dangerous the world had seemed when I’d lived here. I’d been so afraid that someone would find out about my feelings. Back then, that had been the thing that frightened me most, but now I knew better. The whole world was dangerous. I’d been so afraid to be sent back to the kennel, so afraid of what lay behind that red door. But death could find you anywhere. Girls like me were dying. And who even cared. Who would protect us?

T
here was no real way to know how much time had passed. Our legs and backs grew stiff from sitting on the cold ground, but finally I crawled out from underneath the dark boughs.

“You’re going already?” Missy asked, crawling after me. She sounded nervous, even though I was the one who should be scared. “Don’t you think you should wait a little bit longer?”

“No.” I studied her face in the pale light, looking for some sign that she was about to betray me, but her features gave away nothing.

I turned my face toward the sky where the bright crescent moon shone against a clear black night speckled with stars. “It seems pointless to wait too long. If I’m going to get caught, a couple of hours won’t make a difference. I can’t sit around worrying any longer. If I’m going to do this, I need to do it now.”

She crawled out from under the tree. In the moonlight, I could see the bits of needles and leaves that clung to her tights and stuck out from her hair. She looked like a mess, imperfect and real and just as vulnerable as me. For just a moment I let myself truly hope that I’d see her again.

“Be careful,” she said.

“You’ll be here when I get back?” I asked.

“I’ll be here.”

I nodded, not even attempting to speak anymore over the lump that was forming in my throat.

The leaves crunched under my feet as I walked away from her, following the path that the drainage ditch cut through the trees. Luckily the sky was clear, the light from the moon bright.

The smell of damp leaves and dirt perfumed the air. It reminded me of the smell of Penn’s garden. Penn. The thought of him pulled me and my legs moved faster. Branches snapped under my feet and clawed at my face, but I didn’t slow. I couldn’t.

Penn was so close. Just past these trees. Just beyond the next rise.

My lungs burned, but I hardly cared. I could already imagine him, asleep in his room. I could see the soft rise and fall of his chest as he dreamed, not knowing that I was almost there. I wondered if he could feel me getting nearer. Did he see me in his dreams, dashing toward him?

In front of me, I came to the slatted fence that marked the Kimbles’ property. It was hard to tell exactly where I was because the trees were still thick, but I guessed that I was just down the hill from the carriage house. Through the trees, I could make out the yellow glow of a light.

My breath was raspy and loud from running. I paused at the fence wishing that I could just leap over it and burst into the house without caring who saw me. But I wasn’t stupid. Now wasn’t the time for valiant acts of courage. It was time for patience. And so instead of crashing into the house, I waited for my breathing to slow and when I could once again hear the sound of the wind and the chirp of the crickets instead of the rush of my own blood in my ears, I ducked between the slats of the fence and stepped onto the path that led up to the house.

I’d walked this path a hundred times with Penn, but it felt different now. Even though this house had never truly felt like my own home, I hadn’t felt like I was trespassing. But now I’d encroached on some invisible barrier, a bubble that sat unseen, suspended around the house. I stepped forward, moving past the thin film into the center of it.

I neared the carriage house and the blinking red light of a camera caught my eye. The black box was tucked up underneath the eaves. The house had never had cameras before, but like Missy had said, things had changed. Something told me that security cameras weren’t the only thing.

I moved off the path, keeping close to the bushes that hugged the side of the house. Even in the dark it still looked beautiful. I hadn’t been away long, but already I’d forgotten the simply majesty of it: the whitewashed bricks, the wide windows, the tall, pointed roof reaching into the night sky. It was still the most beautiful house I’d ever seen.

I had no idea how wide of a view the camera could capture; no idea, for that matter, how the camera really worked. Did it turn on if it sensed me or was it always going, recording every second in case something showed up? I moved slowly, hoping that if someone were watching, they wouldn’t notice me.

I reached the side of the house and pressed my body up against the tall windows that used to belong to my room. It had only been a couple of weeks since I slept inside those walls, but it felt like a lifetime ago. But I didn’t have time to think about that now. Even crouched beside the bushes, the side of the house felt too exposed.

The trellis was only a few steps away. It sat on the other side of the corridor that connected my old room to the rest of the house. It was a sturdy white structure that reached almost all the way up to the roof. The climbing roses that had adorned it during the summer were almost done blooming for the season, but a few white flowers still blossomed near the bottom of it.

I stayed to the edge of the trellis, careful not to grab the sharp thorns that studded the branches that poked out in all directions. The twigs snagged my pant legs as I climbed, scratching the skin around my ankles.

I’d almost reached the top when the sound of voices made me freeze. They were coming from the driveway, two deep voices that I didn’t recognize.

“…wants us to stick to the rear post, but it’s a waste of time if you ask me.”

“Nah, he’s not going anywhere.”

I clung onto the trellis, trying to push my body against the wall, but if someone walked around the corner of the house, there wasn’t going to be any hiding. Even the bushy green leaves from the rosebush wouldn’t do anything to hide me.

Feet crunched on the gravel only a few yards away.

My sweaty hands gripped the trellis harder, but I couldn’t stay here forever. I was losing my grasp, slipping. From the other side of the garage, the men’s footsteps continued to crunch closer. Were they going to follow the path up the driveway or turn left toward the back of the carriage house? If they did, they’d be coming into view any second.

The beat of my pulse throbbed in my neck, my heart trying desperately to escape through my throat, but I didn’t take my eyes off of the side of the house. Any second the men would turn the corner and then I’d have a choice to make: jump eight feet to the ground and make a run for it, or pray that they wouldn’t notice me perched in the shadows.

Chapter Eleven

M
y hands and legs twitched, ready to jump, but just as I prepared to leap, the voices began to get quieter. The crunch of footsteps receded into the distance.

My body, which had been clenched so tight in fear, felt suddenly weak. I pulled myself shakily up the last little bit of trellis and onto the roof, collapsing onto the rough tile. I panted, rolling onto my back so that my arms and legs were spread across the small slope, grounding me as I stared up into the night sky. Penn’s room was less than twenty feet away, but from here, the ledge that led to it looked so narrow those last few yards seemed impossibly far away.

I stared down the ledge, willing my breath to still. I couldn’t just be stuck here, so close. I’d made it hundreds of miles, what were a few more feet? I closed my eyes, trying to will just a little more strength into my shaky limbs. When I opened my eyes, my gaze traveled to Ruby’s room. The roof where I clung butted up almost perfectly to her window, which was cracked open to let in a breeze. My heart swelled.

I slid open the window and pushed on the screen. It popped out easily and I climbed inside.

Ruby. Sweet, little Ruby. I’d never even gotten a chance to say good-bye to her. How could I have told her that I was leaving and never coming back, that I’d probably never get a chance to see her again? It must have hurt her that I didn’t even try. I’d been her friend, one of the only ones, and I’d let her down. But maybe this was my chance to make up for it.

The room was exactly the same as the last time I’d been in it. The far wall was covered with an enormous bookshelf and the floor in front of it was littered with piles of books that Ruby was either in the process of reading or had just finished. The fat, red collection of fairytales that we’d been reading still sat beside the foot of the armchair. I could almost feel the creamy pages between my fingers.

The big canopied bed on the other side of the room was covered with pillows and the little lump of Ruby’s body rested in the center, sleeping soundly. Quietly, I climbed onto the bed and curled up next to her. She snorted softly and wriggled down into her pillow, but she didn’t wake.

I brushed away a stray curl that had fallen down in front of her face and took her in: the soft mess of freckles that dusted her cheeks; the tangle of brown hair that fanned around her head like a halo; the impish little smile that pricked her lips even as she slept. She might not grow up to be the great beauty that her parents hoped she would be, but to me, she was the loveliest ten-year-old in the world.

I loved Penn with all my heart, but Ruby might have been the best thing about this house and it broke my heart that I couldn’t take her with me.

“Ruby,” I whispered.

“Hmmm,” she mumbled in her sleep.

I nudged her arm. “Ruby.”

Her nose scrunched and her eyes blinked open. For a few long seconds she squinted at my face, unrecognizing, and then her eyes widened.

“Ella?” she said groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“Shh,” I whispered. “We’ve got to be quiet. I only have a minute.”

She reached out and touched her fingertips to the blunt edge of my hair where it fell just below my ear.

“You cut your hair,” she said. “It’s pretty.” She wiggled closer and wrapped her arms around me. “I knew you’d come back,” she mumbled into my neck.

“I came to tell you how much I love you,” I said, stroking her hair.

She pulled away just enough so that she could look into my face. “Can’t you stay?” she asked. “It’s not the same here without you. No one’s happy. Not even my mom.”

“I can’t,” I said. My voice cracked. “But I have something for you.”

I reached deep into my pocket and fished out the drawing that Carlie had done of me. I wished that I had something more to give her, some bigger part of myself that she could hold, but I didn’t have anything, only this picture and my heart, and I’d already given her that.

I unfolded the paper and smoothed my hand across the image.

Ruby sat up. “This is for me?”

I nodded. If I spoke, I was afraid I’d start crying.

Lightly she touched the portrait. Her finger lingered for a long moment before she folded the paper back up and held it against her chest. “I don’t want you to go, but I understand,” she said. “Nobody thinks I get it. They think I’m too little and just assume that I’m not going to understand all these big ideas, but I do.” Her eyes filled. “I don’t want to keep you here. I don’t want to hurt you.”

I wrapped her in my arms. Her tears soaked into my shirt, hot against my chest, and I rested my head on top of hers and let myself cry, too.

“Maybe someday things will change and we can be friends,” Ruby said, settling back down into her bed.

“Oh, Ruby, we’ll always be friends,” I told her, pulling the blankets back up around her chin. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

She smiled sadly. “You won’t forget me, will you?”

“Of course not.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “My whole life, you’ll always be my first best friend.”

She smiled, nodding. I climbed off the bed, pausing at her door.

“Ella,” she whispered.

I turned back around.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I stepped out into the dark hallway, closing her door quietly behind me. Already my heart felt raw and I hadn’t even seen Penn yet.

The house was quiet, the hallway dark and empty. I let out a relieved breath. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, an army of men like the ones outside guarding the doors? But the inside of the house looked exactly the way it had since the day I’d first arrived.

Down the hall, the door to Penn’s room sat in shadows, closed tight. I stopped in front of it and rested my hand on the knob. If I closed my eyes, would I be able to hear the soft strains of Ray LaMontagne drifting under the door the way I had the very first time? All the memories of what lay just beyond the threshold flooded my mind: Penn’s hands moving across the strings of his guitar, the sticky ice cream sundaes, the feel of his sheets beneath my skin. My skin prickled with excitement, as if my body could already sense the presence of him there, the magnetic pull of him.

The handle creaked ever so slightly as I pushed my way inside, but I wasn’t worried. I was a thief now. Silently, I pulled the door shut behind me.

The blinds on the window were pulled shut, shrouding the room in black. Only a small beam of moonlight slanted across the floor, inching partway up the bed so that it illuminated Penn’s hand where it dangled over the side of the mattress. It was too dark to see his face, but even the sight of his beautiful fingers made my throat constrict. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d missed those hands. Those beautiful hands, strong and capable and tender. I’d missed watching the way they plucked the strings of his guitar. I’d missed the way he lifted them to his face to push away a stray lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. I missed the way he would trace them across my nose, my cheeks, my mouth.

In a moment I was at his side pressing that hand to my lips. How had I gone so long without touching him? His hand was warm, the skin a little rough. I wanted to savor every inch of him; to kiss each finger, to feel the calluses on their tips, worn smooth from the strings of his guitar.

But my kiss only lasted a moment. My touch woke him and he pulled back, startled, fumbling for the lamp at the side of his bed. He flipped the switch and light spilled across the bed, bathing him in a warm yellow glow.

He blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to the brightness. His face was still disoriented from sleep. A few crease marks from his pillow lined the left side of his forehead and cheek, and his dark hair stuck up a bit on one side. I wasn’t used to this short cut. Even messed up from sleep this new haircut looked too tame, too adult. He was only a year older than me, but it seemed like he’d aged ten years in the few weeks we’d been apart.

He rubbed his eyes. It was the most vulnerable I’d ever seen him and the scene made my head spin with a pure and burning love, so overwhelming that I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

He blinked one more time and a look of recognition dawned across his face.

“Ella.”

My name on his lips, so soft, so sweet.

In the time it took to draw a breath, he slipped from the bed and cupped my face in his hands, kissing my eyes, my cheeks, my lips, my chin. He kissed me like he was drinking me in, like he’d never be able to get his fill. Unquenchable.

He pulled back a few inches, just enough to take in my face. His lips trembled as his hands traveled down past my neck, drifting over my shoulders and arms. They stopped at my wrists and he took a deep breath, slowly turning my hands so they lay open, cupped like I was waiting to hold onto something. He brought his mouth to them, brushing his lips across the lines that creased my palms.

And then his mouth was on mine and the time that we’d been separated melted away. That empty space inside my chest, which had felt so cavernous, so expansive, filled with the shape of him, the smell, the taste, as if I’d opened the barred cage of my ribs and he’d crawled inside me, making a home beside my heart. And like my heart, it felt like he’d always been here, as essential as the blood running through my veins.

“Oh God, Ella, I…” He moaned and then, as if the words had startled him, he drew back, holding me at arm’s length.

The happiness that had shone from his face disappeared with a shake of his head. The small circle of light that enveloped us seemed to shrink, darkness pushing in from all sides.

“You can’t be here,” he said. “You’ve got to leave.”

He scrambled to his feet, pulling me up by my elbow as he dragged me toward the window.

“What are you doing? I just—”

His large hand covered my mouth. His eyes had gotten big, but it wasn’t surprise, or love, or even lust that I saw in them. There was only fear.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered.

For the first time since I’d entered his room, I looked around. I’d been so consumed by Penn that the whole world could have fallen away, but I saw it now. Most of the room was deep in shadow, but even the small amount of light given off by the lamp was enough for me to notice the difference.

It hardly even looked like his room anymore. Every bit of his personality had been wiped away. The wall that had once been covered with instruments was now bare. Even the nails that they had hung on were gone. All the posters and signs that had given the walls life and color had been stripped away and a new coat of paint blocked out every scratch or scuff, leaving the room bare except for furniture.

Penn watched me take it all in, but he didn’t explain. Instead, he fumbled to open the window. His motions were rushed and he glanced back over his shoulder toward the door.

He lifted me, pushing me through the window. “Meet me in the garden,” he whispered, his words hot in my ear.

I grabbed onto the frame, fighting to keep my balance on the small ledge. From the hallway came the unmistakable sound of footsteps and I ducked down just as the door to his room opened. With one quick motion he pulled the blinds shut, and the room disappeared.

“What are you doing up?”

The congressman’s voice caught me off guard. I would never forget the deep grumble of that voice, the way his vowels seemed to crunch like gravel inside his mouth. I wouldn’t forget it if I lived for a million years. My head spun and I pressed myself against the side of the house to keep from toppling over.

It was his house. I should have known that there was the chance that I would see him, but I’d only been thinking about Penn. The sound of his voice, so clear, so close, made my stomach turn.

Through the open window, the ground creaked softly as Penn moved to block the window. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

He hadn’t pulled the blinds closed all the way. A small gap about an inch wide still gave me a small glimpse of the room. My legs quivered, weak with fear as the congressman stepped further into the room and came into view. The lamp cast a shadow across his jaw, deepening the lines in his face and making the salt and pepper stubble that grew along his chin appear even darker. And even though I could only see the side of his face I knew that his black eyes were piercing.

Get away!
my brain screamed. Like a siren. Like an alarm. Jump. Run. Fly. Whatever I needed to do to put distance between the congressman and myself. But I couldn’t move. My body was frozen.

“The sensor went off,” the congressman said, glancing around the room suspiciously.

I pressed myself closer to the house.

“I had a bad dream,” Penn said. “I must have been mumbling in my sleep.”

The congressman stared at his son. I had no idea what was going on inside his head, but the look that passed between them was brutal. Each glance felt like a blow, the blunt force of their egos knocking against one another.

Finally Penn looked down.

“Are you holding something?” the congressman asked, staring down at Penn’s balled fists.

“No.”

His jaw flexed. “Is it a phone? You know you were forbidden to have one.”

“I don’t—” Penn started to say.

“Have you been calling someone?”

“No! You took it away. How was I even supposed to get another one? It’s not like I even go anywhere anymore.”

“Show me your hands,” the congressman ordered.

I knew that they were empty, but even so, my heart skipped. My touch hadn’t actually left a mark on him, but it felt as if his hands should have been stained. After all, I could still feel his touch on my arms and my face as tangible as a second skin.

“I don’t have anything.” Penn held up his empty hands.

The congressman sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You know I’d like to be able to trust you again.”

“I know,” Penn mumbled.

“This isn’t going to last forever,” the congressman said. “A month or two and there’s not going to be anything to worry about anymore. This whole problem will be extinguished and we can get things back to normal.”