Keeper(14)

And standing in front of the house was my mother. Fear still danced in her eyes, but there was a calmness about her.

“Mom?” I didn’t understand what was happening.

She stepped toward me, holding out her hand. I reached for her, but someone stepped out from behind me, getting to my mother before I had the chance to grasp her outstretched fingers.

The bloody woman from the road turned to face me, her bright green eyes trained on my face. She held out a hand to me, the emerald amulet around her neck glowing brightly. “Lainey.”

“Leave me alone!” I screeched, shoving past her. “Mom!”

But my mother was already gone.

Sweat poured down my face and neck as I sat straight up in bed. Gasping for a breath of air, I gripped the wad of crumpled bedsheets and waited for it to fill my lungs. A few seconds passed and I could breathe, but I couldn’t shake the images of my mother and the bloody woman from my nightmare.

The photograph of my mother and father sat on my bedside table. A silver stream of moonlight fell perfectly against the picture, illuminating my mother’s face. My eyes focused on the emerald amulet around her neck.

“What does it mean, Mom?” I whispered, hot tears filling my eyes. “What’s happening to me?”

I sucked in another breath and fell back against my pillow, tearing my eyes away from the picture.

I wish you were here, Mom.



Come on,” I murmured. “Brew faster.”

The next morning, I stood bleary-eyed next to the ancient lime-green coffeepot on the counter, gripping my empty mug like the Jaws of Life. I wasn’t much of a coffee drinker, but on mornings like this, when exhaustion clung to me like a second skin, I made an exception.

I hadn’t slept well. No, that was an understatement. I hadn’t slept at all. Right after I’d crawled into bed, the familiar black spots had appeared and my mind started alternating between flashes of things I couldn’t explain and nightmares of my mother and the bloody woman.

By the time the images had finally faded away, I couldn’t get my mind to shut off. Exhausted, I was depending on a cup—or two—of coffee to make me feel more human and less like a zombie.

Refusing to wait any longer, I yanked the coffeepot out midstream. I ignored the hissing sound the coffee made when it hit the burner and filled my mug. The hot liquid nearly scalded my throat when I took a few desperate swigs, but knowing the caffeine was working its way through my system gave me the jump start I needed.

Back upstairs, I dressed without really thinking about what I was putting on. I was aiming for comfort: a soft t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and red Chucks. My favorite black cardigan, however, was MIA. Swearing under my breath, I searched for an alternative. My eyes fell on the leather jacket lying on the corner of the bed. Ty’s jacket.

It was absolutely ridiculous, but I had slept with the damn thing. The scent of spearmint and leather had been oddly comforting when I finally woke from the nightmares, and it occurred to me that it might have the same calming effect during daylight hours. So, given that I was feeling as cheerful as a cactus, I threw on the jacket and decided to hell with my sanity.

A car horn sounded outside. I stomped down the stairs and grabbed my backpack from the landing. Outside, Maggie’s yellow ’74 VW beetle was idling by the curb, the engine sputtering and coughing.

I yanked the rusted passenger door open and plopped down inside, throwing my bag onto the backseat.

“Hey now, easy on ole Delilah! She’s fragile!” Maggie complained.

“Excuse me, I forgot your car is practically a senior citizen.”

“Well, good morning to you too, grumpy pants.” Maggie pursed her lips, trying not to laugh, and shifted into drive, the whole car vibrating and shaking. “Sorry I’m late, but you know Delilah’s not a morning person. It took a while to get her going.”

I rolled my eyes. Delilah was about as reliable as a tin can. “Battery again?”

“Yeah, needs a new connector. I’ll swing by Joe’s house later and see how far a few bats of my eyelashes will get me. I bet he has some spare parts from his dad’s shop.” She grinned wickedly, and I snorted.

“You don’t play fair. Joe’s been in love with you since elementary school.”

Maggie shrugged. “All’s fair in love and car repair.”

I rolled my eyes again but did manage to crack a tiny smile.

“So,” Maggie began after turning on the main road, “I see we’re going for the hot biker chick look today.” The smirk on her face was one of pure amusement.

“Oh, don’t even start with me. I know it’s stupid, but—”

“Hey now,” Maggie interrupted. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. If I managed to meet some gorgeous mystery guy in this town, I’d probably steal more than his jacket.” She waggled her eyebrows. She’d finally managed to coax out the details about my encounter with Ty and had done little else but tease me about it.

“Oh, good gravy!” I said, the tips of my ears growing hot. “I didn’t steal it. He left it. I’m just . . . keeping it for him till he wants it back.”

“Keeping it warm, you mean?”

I groaned. “I know it makes no sense,” I said, pulling the jacket a little tighter around my shoulders, “but in a strange way, it kinda makes me feel better. After the library and everything . . . knowing that we’re no closer to figuring out what’s going on . . . I don’t know. I guess I just felt like wearing it. That sounds really stupid, doesn’t it?”