Toxic (Denazen #2)(15)

Ginger smiled. “It’s all taken care of. I promise you we’ve worked out a plan that’s safe for everyone, and Jade will be with you every step of the way.”

I was wrong. Now the day had officially capped at horrific.

Fan-freaking-tastic.





6


I looked around the small hotel room and cringed. This wasn’t going to work.

“Which bed did you want?” Mom asked me this every night without fail. Like it was going to change from one day to the next?

She emerged from the bathroom wearing a white tank top and pink pajama bottoms dotted with little blue penguins. Not exactly something you’d expect a cold-blooded killer to wear, right?

Mom, like Kale, had been a prisoner of the Denazen Corporation since before I was born. She’d been forced to do horrible things at their command. I’d grown up thinking she died in childbirth, wishing for only the chance to meet her—to talk to her just once. Now here I was, not only talking to her, but sharing a room.

A really small room.

The first few weeks at the hotel, Mom kept her distance from everyone. We shared the same room, but she kept to herself for the most part. She didn’t eat with the rest of us and never joined us in the lounge for poker or movie night. She only seemed to be able to handle company for less than fifteen minutes at a time. Any longer, and she’d start fidgeting and make an excuse to leave. The only exceptions—in time—were Ginger and me. And of course, Kale. She’d spend hours talking to him. With everyone else, she was quiet, rarely speaking unless there was something important to say. After a while, she got a little more chatty, but I didn’t think she’d ever be what Brandt would’ve called verbose.

I shrugged as if it didn’t matter but staked a claim on the one closest to the window by flopping down beneath the hideous painting of an old barn. I didn’t like being by the door. Too many nightmares about Denazen bursting in while I slept, Dad leading the charge to drag me away. “Ginger said they moved Kale’s room. Do you know where? I was gonna go check on him.”

And it was true, I did want to check on him. We’d had a hard night, me and him. I wouldn’t be able to sleep unless I knew he was okay. But I also needed out of that room. I loved Mom. I was happy she was safe and in my life. However, this was bound to get awkward. There was no way I’d be able to sleep after everything that had happened, and sitting around eating a pint of rocky road and dishing about boys wasn’t exactly an option. What did you say to someone who’d been locked up for the last seventeen years, treated like an animal, and used as a tool to lure people to their death? Hey, let’s watch a movie. There’s a new Ben Barnes flick out. Wait…you don’t know who Ben Barnes is, do you?

We’d been getting to know each other since the summer started, but it was slow. On my first night back, we sat in our room for over an hour, trying to talk. Neither of us had any idea what to say—or where to start. We’d been separated my entire life.

It was proving to be a slow process. In a strange way, Mom was more screwed up than Kale. Like him, she had her quirks. Nothing red was allowed in the room, and each time she took a shower, she left the door open and made me swear to leave every light in the place on. She even made me switch on the flashlight app on my new cell.

But in addition to what everyone considered small quirks, she had some bigger issues, too. She wouldn’t allow anything elastic within ten feet of her. Hair scrunchies, rubber bands, hell, she’d freaked when she saw my collection of Silly Bandz. She’d even gone as far as ridding all her clothes of anything elastic. On our second night together, right before Kale and I took off to warn the Sixes on Brandt’s list, I’d come in to find her cutting the waistband from all her underwear.

Can you say awkward?

She turned to the clock on the nightstand between our beds. “It’s almost one in the morning.”

I started backing toward the door. “I know. Thank God it’s still early, right?”

“Dez.” She looked uncomfortable. Was nice to know it wasn’t just me. “I think there are a few things we need to talk about.”

“Talk about?”

“There are some things we should probably get out in the open.”

This couldn’t be good. She was going to rail me about sneaking out to the party. Hell of a time for her to put on the Mom pants.

“I know you and Kale have grown close—”

“This is about Kale?” I gave her a dismissive wave and backed up a few more steps. “Trust me when I tell you, that ship has sailed.”

“Dez,” she said again, this time sharper.

I froze. Her tone was like a sledgehammer to the knees.

“It’s far too dangerous for you to be alone with Kale right now. How do you think he’ll feel if something happens to you?” As an afterthought, she added, “Plus it’s a school night. You can’t go.”

“I can’t? Watch me.”

I regretted the words immediately. I wasn’t trying to give her crap; it was more out of habit. I wasn’t used to answering to anyone. Dad hadn’t taken much of an interest in my life, and the few times he had, it had been to forbid me to do something. I usually ignored him and went along on my merry way. “I’m sorry.” I leaned against the wall. “Force of habit. I don’t do authority.”