Unhinged (Splintered, #2)(43)

I sidestep him and edge toward the door.

He frowns and follows. “You’re mad that I didn’t pick you up from school. I cut the interview short to get here. I have to meet the reporter later to finish the questions. Doesn’t that count for something?”

His wounded expression twists me up inside. “Yes. I mean, no, I’m not mad. I thought you were mad. Jen said that Taelor—”

“Mort clarified things.” Jeb tucks his bandana away.

“Mort? He lets you call him that?”

“I didn’t ask permission.”

I tilt my head in thought. “So everything’s cool with you guys?”

“You texted that you had an ‘encounter.’ So when Mort said that he wanted to make Taelor jealous by pretending to come on to you, and that she exaggerated the details because it backfired and ticked her off … well, his explanation fit. Too bad he made an enemy out of Tae, though. She’s not a girl you want to cross.”

“Tell me about it,” I mumble, picking up my pace across the lawn with Jeb in tow. “You should hear what she’s spreading around school.”

“Well, he’s going to clear all that up tomorrow. Old family friend or not, Mothra had no right to use you like that.”

My feet stop dead, entire body freezing at the nickname. Jeb can’t be starting to remember Morpheus’s ability to become a moth. He wasn’t technically in Wonderland to make those memories … not anymore. Unless Mom was right at the hospital, when she said no one ever leaves Wonderland unscathed. Does his subconscious somehow remember something he no longer experienced?

“What did you just call him?” I ask, my voice shaky … hopeful.

“Mothra,” he answers. “You know, Godzilla’s archenemy. Because the guy’s moth crazy.” He gives me a sly grin. “C’mon, you couldn’t have missed his hat. And that car? Gullwings look like moths when both doors are up.”

“Right.” Of course he doesn’t remember. My thoughts return to Mom and her secrets. “We should go in so I can change.”

“Wait.” Jeb takes my hand and twirls me so my flower-petal hem ripples. When I’m facing him again, he shakes his head. “Mort was right. You’re like a fairy on her wedding night. Let me enjoy the fantasy a little longer.” His plea is so silky sweet, I can almost feel it on my skin. He kisses my gloved hand.

We’ve stopped where the grass ends just before the porch’s first step. Morpheus’s laugh carries through the door. The sound transforms Jeb’s expression from admiring to fierce.

“When I got here, I was ready to kill him.” I follow his line of sight to his motorcycle haphazardly parked on and off the driveway’s incline. He didn’t even take time to put down the kickstand. “I had him pinned against his hood, threatened to give him another scar on his face.”

It’s strange, to finally be the center of Jeb’s undivided attention, but now I’m the one who’s torn. One part of me tugging toward the house, and one part wrenching toward him.

Jeb catches my hand and holds it against his chest. “He said I could do anything to his face. Just asked that I didn’t mess up the car. It’s the only thing he has left of his dead dad.” Jeb traces his thumb over the lace that hugs my wrist. “I saw his scars, Al. Those tattoos can’t hide them. Did you know about the suicide attempts?”

I nod, reluctant to encourage his pity for Morpheus, yet knowing I can’t possibly explain that those scars belong to someone else.

Jeb glances at Morpheus’s car. “He told me his dad died hating him. And the main reason he came to the States was to meet your mom. To try to see his old man through someone else’s eyes. To make peace with the memories.” When Jeb looks back at me, his expression is filled with empathy, and my chest cinches tight. It’s unfair that Morpheus is exploiting vulnerabilities Jeb doesn’t even realize he’s aware of. But I have no right to judge, because I’m a user and a liar, too.

“So as long as he’s respectful to you,” Jeb says, oblivious to my inner turmoil, “I’ll do my best to respect him.”

His tone is tight and pained, but he’s in control. He’s been working hard not to be violent like his father was. And I’m proud of him, because he’s grown into an honest and compassionate man in spite of everything his dad did to wreck him emotionally. I’ve also never felt more unworthy of him.

I draw his hand up to my lips and kiss the tattoo where his wrist peeks out from his sleeve. What would he think of me, if he knew how deceitful I’d become? It might as well be me in that mirror in another part of the world, as far away as I feel from him right now.

“Hey …” He breaks his hand free and lifts me onto the porch. With him still standing on the lawn, we’re at eye level. “You’re too quiet. You would tell me if there was more to the story, right?”

There is more. I have to find out why my mom’s in my mirror, and I have to defeat a psychotic magical queen … I’m just not sure how to tell you.

My eyes water.

Jeb’s frown evolves into a grimace. “Why are you crying? Was Tae being straight?” His eyes blaze. “Did that jerk have his hands on you? Did he kiss you?”

Dang it. “No, it wasn’t like that. It’s just, maybe you can see now how I feel about Ivy. Why I’m hesitant.”