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Authors: Renee Collins

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BOOK: Until We Meet Again
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Cassandra
t’s here. Saturday. August 5.
I
Watching the clock on my phone turn to midnight,
I feel a part of me break inside.

Maybe I believed it would never actually come. That somehow, just by loving each other and creating something beautiful in this world, we’d cheat the past. We’d cheat destiny.

But now, we’ll cheat nothing.
I haven’t stepped a foot out of the house since Mom grounded
me yesterday. Not for lack of trying. I begged, groveled, cried,
and slammed doors, but Mom stood her ground. I can’t even
sneak out when she’s asleep, because she’s tweaked the house
alarm system to go off if any doors or windows are opened.
So I stay at my laptop, frantically searching the Web for any
morsel of wisdom. Some hint of a message sent from some
distant cosmic portal that Lawrence will be okay. As the early
hours of the morning snake by, I vacillate between despair and
hope, confidence and despondency.
It isn’t until the sound of my opening door wakes me that I
realize I’d fallen asleep facedown on the desk, one arm flung
across my keyboard. The brightness of morning assails me. I sit
up with a start and gasp at the sharp cramp in my neck.
Mom’s standing in the doorway. “Good grief, Cass. Were you
up all night IMing with your boyfriend?” She sighs with frustration. “I should have thought to take your computer.”
“First of all, no one calls it ‘IMing’ anymore. But anyway, no.
Don’t worry. He doesn’t even have a computer.”
Mom frowns. “Then what were you doing?”
“Does it matter? I didn’t leave my room.” I swallow any more
snarky comments. I have to be smart. I have to play my cards
perfectly right now.
“Mom,” I begin, keeping my tone calm and even. “I’ve been
doing a lot of thinking, and I’m hoping you will be willing to make
a compromise with me. If you let me stay home today, I’ll—”
“No way,” she says, shaking her head. “You’re coming sailing. That much is decided. We can discuss the terms of your
grounding later, but as far as today is concerned, there’s no
getting out of it.”
“But
Mom—”
“I’m sorry, Cassandra. You can’t change my mind on this.
Frank and I talked a lot about it last night, and we think some
family time is exactly what you need.”
“I’ll have all the family time you want. Just not today. Please
trust me when I say that today, of all days, it’s extremely important for me to be able to stay home.”
She smiles a little. “Everything feels extremely important
when you’re a teenager. You trust me. It’s not as earth-shattering
as it may seem.”
Her condescending tone makes my toes curl. “It’s not fair.”
“This is what happens when you lie to me.”
“I never—”
“Stop.” Mom gives me the I-mean-business point with her
finger. “We’re done talking about this.” She starts to close my
door, and I jump to my feet.
“Mom, please!”
She sighs. “Cassandra, will you relax? It’s not like he’s going
to disappear if you don’t see him for one day.”
The cruel irony of her words takes my breath away.
“Get dressed,” she says firmly. “We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

Chapter 31
Lawrence
T

he first hours of my final day pass like years. After walking the silent house, I finally settle again in my room.
I know it’s not inherently any safer in there, but where else
can I go?

Words won’t come to me so I don’t write. Sleep abandoned me long ago so I don’t lie on my bed. All I can do
is sit on the cold floor and listen. Listen for Ned to return
home, for raised voices—anything. But the house remains
unbearably still.

Dawn finds me on my balcony. I’m wrapped in a blanket,
but even that doesn’t keep out the chill. The sight of the rising
sun has never looked so bleak or filled me with such untenable dread. I fall to my knees, pressing my forehead to the
marble balcony, unable to stand it all.

Cassandra, I need you. I need you with me.

I stay like that, drifting in and out of restless sleep, until
the sun has climbed and brushes the tops of the trees in
the garden. I awake with a start. A feeling of urgency grips
me. I should be doing something. Anything to stop the
impending doom.

But as the morning unfolds before me, I’m struck by how
normal everything seems. As if the rest of the world has failed
to realize that I will die today. And why should they? I suppose
I expected dark rain clouds. Ominous ravens swooping overhead, letting out mournful cries.

But today is bright and sunny and beautiful. Gulls swoop
high above, and a lark sings cheerfully. The house is no different. When I finally venture cautiously into the downstairs,
every corner is abuzz with anticipation of the party tonight.
Servants trim the lawn and wash Ned’s Rolls Royce. Caterers
and decorators bustle back and forth with bright, glittering
armloads of food, champagne glasses and decor for the party.

Only one thing remains out of place. There’s no sign of Ned.
I long to see Cassandra. I wish we could talk about what I
should do. After not seeing her last night, I have to wait for her
now. She must be beside herself with worry. I want to comfort
her. I need her to comfort me.

After watching the steady flow of party preparations for a
good ten minutes and deeming it safe, I head outside. The
sun beams down on me like a spotlight, illuminating me for
any dangerous entity to see. My skin tingles as if I’m being
watched. I have to be brave for Cassandra. Everything will be
better once we are together. As I cross the lawn, however, my
eyes fall on a man. He leans against a marble pillar on the back
patio, watching the hustle and bustle as he smokes a cigarette.
The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. I recognize
him. But from where?

All at once it hits me. Hank.
I see him now as I saw him last, casually ordering the execution of a bound, unarmed man. My knees lock. And then, as
if summoned by my silent terror, Hank’s face slowly turns in

my direction.

The instinctive need to survive takes over. I know it draws
more attention to me to run, but I can’t help it. In that moment,
all that matters is getting back into the seclusion of my room.
I race through the house, slamming my door behind me and
locking it. My heart beats furiously in my chest.

That was too close. He still might have seen me. He might
be on his way after me right now. I tear open the button of my
shirt collar. Even so, breath comes in short, tight gasps. I press
my forehead to the cool wood of the door.

Cassandra, what am I going to do?
I can’t go to the beach now. I can’t risk being seen. I hate
myself for hiding like this, but my body refuses to let me do
anything else.
The afternoon drags by with intolerable slowness. Then early
evening. By seven, the first guests start arriving. Music floats
from the outdoor bandstand. Laughter and the rumble of
bright conversation ripple through the house.
Unable to bear the sight of my room a minute more, I slink
down the stairs and into the shadows of a rarely used sitting
room. I need to see if Hank is still in the crowd. I need to
look for Uncle Ned. By now, the anxiety of waiting has worn
my nerves raw. I hide in darkness, listening to the pulse of the
party outside and feeling more painfully alone than I imagined possible.
Peeking out between the silk curtains, I watch the swirl of
lights and brightly colored dresses. It’s happy, carefree, oblivious chaos outside. I imagine my gaze pushing past them, traveling to the calm beauty of the beach. The sun will be setting
soon, sharpening the colors, casting brilliant, golden light over
the waves. I imagine Cassandra standing at the shore break,
her long hair and white gown flowing behind her in soft ocean
breezes. Her arms reach for me. Her lips form my name.
And then, like a flame searing past my eyes, I catch a glimpse
of red in the midst of the swirling party guests. The sight brings
me out of my dreams. I know that color, that dress. I know that
sharp swoop of black hair.
Fay.
She moves through the crowd, searching. For me? I watch
her, my heart rate rising. She happens to move closer to the
window where I stand, unaware that I’m nearby. But she comes
close enough for me to see her expression. Anxiety sharpens her
gaze. She looks frantic, turning around any male guest near my
age to get a glimpse of his face.
She is looking for me. And she’s afraid.
Before I can think about what I’m doing, I’m out of the house
and into the ruckus of the party. I lose sight of Fay.
The unsettling feeling that I’m being watched grips me once
more. The relentless music and the roar of chatter oppress my
ears. I cut a look to either side, but there’s no sight of Hank.
Looking for Fay, I nearly crash into a waiter carrying a tray of
fluted champagne glasses. A man with a barking laugh shoulders past me, as if I’m not even there. A woman with too much
kohl smudged around her eyes asks me if I’ve seen a little white
dog in a clown collar. Dizziness fills my head like water. I spin
away, when a pair of dark, sultry eyes meets mine through the
blur of faces.
I’ve never been happier to see Fay. She runs up to me, out of
breath.
“Lon. Where have you been?” Her eyes still flash with unmistakable fear.
I grip her shoulders. “What’s wrong, Fay? What happened?”
She catches her breath for a moment. Or is she perhaps
searching for the right words?
“You were right,” she begins, her voice tight with clenchedback emotion. “I’ve been keep a secret from you. From the very
beginning. I never should have—
“I know,” I say, pulling her into my arms. I can’t bear to
see the shame on her face. She’s hardly to blame for the sins
of her family.
But she pulls from my grip, staring into my eyes with confusion, even a little betrayal.
“How long have you known?”
“I only just found out. But I don’t hold it against you, Fay.
Your family may have mob ties, but that doesn’t make you
a criminal.”
She steps back.
“I watched you from the window,” I say softly. “You looked
so afraid. Are they coming for me? Your family?”
She shakes her head slowly. “You don’t get it, do you?” She
grabs my jacket lapels. “You’re in danger, Lawrence.”
“I know that. Did you tell your family I jilted you, and now
your father wants to defend your honor?”
“What? No! My father’s not the one you need to be afraid of.”
“Then who?”
Fay’s eyes grow dark, even in the intense, golden light of
sunset. “Your Uncle Ned. He’s coming for you.”

Chapter 32
Cassandra
T
he sailing trip with my parents brings me close to a
mental breakdown. I move through the stages of grief
multiple times.

Denial. This can’t really be happening. I’m not gliding
happily over the ocean while the love of my life faces death.
There’s just no way.

Bargaining. I’ll do anything if you let me go back. I’m sick.
You have to take me back. I’ll break a hole in the bottom of
this boat if you don’t let me go back.

Anger. So much anger. This one took up most of the day.

But as I sit curled at the stern of the ship, watching the sun
sink into a shimmering ocean, the depression sets in. Hard.
My forehead drops against the cold metal of the railing.
I stare at the last wavering band of light, unable to catch
a good breath. My eyes burn from fixating on the sun. Or
maybe I’m going to cry. I’ve been holding back tears for
most of the day.
Saturday is over now, and Lawrence is probably dead. And
I did nothing, nothing, to save him.
“Cass?”
Mom kneels beside me. Her hand rests on my shoulder, and
the look in her eyes is one of overwhelming love and concern.
The tears come.
Huge, shaking sobs. The stress and fear and sorrow of the
past few days are unleashed all at once. My mom holds me
and I cry my heart out.
“Tell me what’s going on, Cassandra,” she says, stroking my
hair as I bawl into her shoulder. “I’m so worried. Did someone hurt you? Did this boy hurt you, Cassandra? If he did, so
help me, I will rip his—”
“No, Mom. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then what? I’ve never seen you like this, Cass. Even in the
middle of the divorce. I’m scared, honey. You need to talk to
me.”
But what can I tell her? The truth? Brandon’s reaction
proved there’s no point in even going there.
Or is there? Maybe I could give her a version of the truth.
At this point, what do I have to lose?
I draw in a trembling breath. “Lawrence. That’s his name.
And I’m in love with him. But he’s in trouble. Not with the
law or anything. It’s something with his uncle’s business, I
think. He’s in danger.”
Mom frowns. “Why would he be in danger if it’s the uncle’s
business?”

Until We Meet Again

“They’re just bad guys, okay? Trust me. He’s in serious
danger. He may…get hurt.”
Mom pulls me close again in a hug. “I’m sure he’s okay,
sweetheart. You’re scared for him because you care about him,
but—”
“No,” I say, pulling back. “He’s going to get hurt. I know
that.”
“How can you—”
“I just do. You have to believe me on this. I know it doesn’t
make sense. It sounds crazy. But I know. For a fact. And that’s
why I wanted to stay home. I have to help him.”
Fresh tears cut down my face. Fresh pain claws at my heart.
Mom brushes the hair from my eyes. She’s silent, analyzing me with her gaze. After a long pause, she looks at Frank
playing with Eddie at the bow. Everyone’s pretending not to
watch the crazy teenage girl losing it in the corner. Mom’s
brow lowers.
“Greg,” she says, turning to the captain. “Take us home.
The fastest route possible.”
My eyes widen. Mom strokes my hair and smiles. “The day’s
not over. I’m sure this Lawrence kid is going to be okay, but
if it’s that important to you to help him, well, that’s a worthy
thing. And I’m proud of you.”
I fling my arms around her. “I love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, kiddo.”
The wind whips my hair behind me as the captain turns
the boat. Gripping the stern rail, I stare out at the land in
the distance. The first star has pierced through the gradually
darkening sky. I close my eyes tightly.
I’m coming, Lawrence. Please don’t let it be too late.

Chapter 33
BOOK: Until We Meet Again
12.71Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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