Chapter 7

SEVEN

COLLINS

“Don’t tell me how to make bread when you can barely boil water?—”

Tallulah cackled and snorted so loud it drowned out the rest of the sentence. My eyes flew open. I don’t know that voice. The bed shook under me. I frowned and looked to my left and found Tallulah red-faced. She laughed so hard no more noise came out, but it shook the entire bed. Her phone was clutched in her palm.

“Bro,” I groaned. My voice felt like sandpaper in my throat.

She gasped and wiped the tears from her eyes. A few dying chuckles and deep breaths later, she finally collected herself. “Sorry.”

“TikTok?”

She nodded and burst into a new giggle fit.

I chuckled and looked away from her. My gaze drifted to the ceiling, which despite the sunlight peeking in through the blinds, still held the faint turquoise glow from my lights. I smiled and closed my eyes as my mind slithered back to that dream. That dream. With Mr. Moonstone. It was a little unnerving how quickly my mind was changing its tune about him. Though in the light of day, it was probably just stress last night. It wasn’t like the dude actually had wings.

In my mind, I pictured the way his moonstone eyes sparkled in the daylight, reflecting the colors of the crystal garden around us. He wasn’t as intense in my dream as he had been in person. Duh, because the dream was a figment of your imagination. Still, I had to give it to my mind for remembering such vivid details like the way his hair fluttered or the way he arched one eyebrow. It wasn’t surprising he didn’t speak in my dream since I’d yet to hear the sound of his voice. The anticipation was killing me.

Whoa, Collins. You met the dude for a second, and you haven’t seen him since. You’re just caught up in a dream. My whole body warmed just thinking about it. Sometimes it blew my mind how real dreams could feel. My skin tingled every place he’d touched me. I ran my fingertips over my cheek, then through the strands of my hair he’d touched.

I must have been more freaked out than I’d realized if I’d dreamed he gave me his crystal necklace for protect— what’s that? There was something hard tangled in my hair. It took me a second to unwind my hair my from around the object, but it seemed to be on a string or a— necklace.

My eyes flew open. No, don’t be silly. That was a dream. I fumbled with the item until my fingertips brushed over rough edges and sharp electric energy shot into my hand. It was a crystal. With my heart in my throat, I lifted the item up and choked on a scream.

In my hand, attached to a shiny silver chain, was a raw chunk of black tourmaline.

The same exact one he’d given me . . . in the dream.

I gasped and sat up straight. The room wobbled around me.

“Bro, you good?”

“It’s the same one.”

“What’s the same one?”

“From the dream. It’s the same. This is it.”

Tallulah sighed and the bed jostled as she moved. “You’re doing that creepy thing from last night, bro.”

I held the necklace out as far as I could to show her, but my hands were shaking. “See?”

She leaned in next to me. “Where’d you get that? I’ve never seen it before.”

“I have. On that guy.” I dropped the stone and it slammed into my chest. “And then in the dream. What is happening to me? I’m losing my damn mind.”

“Okay, okay. Slow down and back it up a bit. What are you saying?”

I rubbed my eyes and groaned. “I had a dream about the guy from last night.”

“The same one you thought you saw flying outside our apartment?”

I nodded.

“All right, tell me about the dream. Every detail.”

So I did. Every one, even the parts that felt a little embarrassing because it was starting to sound like Stockholm syndrome. When I was done, I opened my eyes to gauge her reaction. Those bright-green eyes were sharp, but there was no judgement in them.

“I think your dream is normal, honestly.” She picked the necklace up off my chest and looked at it. “The idea that this was given to you in a dream and then it’s actually here is far-fetched. We’re not the Winchesters in Supernatural. That’s not possible or plausible, which means you put this necklace on at some point.”

“ But when? ” I cried and tugged on my hair. “I don’t remember having this on.”

“But you had to have. It was a crazy day—wait, I know!” She grinned and shook my shoulder. “We went shopping after school, remember?”

I threw my hands up. “I didn’t buy it. I know that for sure. I’m broke as hell.”

“I bet that bitch, Lilian, put it on you,” she growled. “Like a drug mule.”

I shuddered at that thought.

Tallulah jumped to her feet. “Come on. I’m sure that’s all it was. Thieves are gifted like that. You’ve seen all the Ocean’s Eleven movies, bro. Let’s go make breakfast and spend the day with the boys. Later, we’ll drive to Lilian’s and ask her about the necklace. And we’ll give the stolen shit back.”

I nodded. “Right. Good plan. There has to be a logical explanation for this.”

As if on cue, my bedroom door flew open and slammed into the wall. The triplets rushed in like a tsunami of maniacal laughter. I caught a flash of bouncing red curls before they were leaping through the air. Little knees and elbows slammed into my ribcage, knocking the air from my lungs.

“Ahoy, matey!” Brandon screamed. He popped up like a prairie dog, and I spotted an eye patch covering one of his eyes. The fact that he was missing a tooth only aided the look. “Ahoy!”

Bradyn jumped up and down and waved his arms. “Yaaaarrrgghhhh! A kraken!” Then he tackled Brandon and they both crashed on top of me.

Tallulah sat up and snatched the bucket hat off Brantley’s head and put it on herself. “Yo ho, yo ho?—"

“A PIRATE’S LIFE FOR ME!” Brantley giggled and stole his hat back.

“Yo ho, yo ho, yo ho,” all three of them sang together over and over.

“Okay, okay, little pirates,” I shouted over them. “Walk the plank!”

“Never!”

“To the cannons!”

Brandon bounced off the bed and charged for the door. He grabbed a plastic sword off the ground and raised it above his head. “Ahoy! To breakfast!”

Brantley and Bradyn scrambled after him. As quickly as they’d attacked, they abandoned ship in search of the scent of pancakes wafting up the stairs. I sighed and felt what was sure to be bruises forming up and down my body.

“I think we’ve got our hands full today, bro.” Tallulah chuckled as she stretched. “They’ve gone full pirate mode.”

“I feel like every time they go pirate it lasts a little bit shorter.”

“Or you’ve gotten used to it.” She hopped up and threw a pair of my sweatpants on. “But I smell pancakes, which means someone knows we need to carbo load.”

I dragged myself out of bed just as Tallulah tossed another pair of my sweatpants and they slammed into my face. It took us a few minutes to collect ourselves and stumble down the stairs, but the smell of homemade pancakes was motivating.

Tallulah’s stomach growled as we walked into the kitchen. “Sandra, those smell— oh. Hi, Mom!”

Victoria Elliott was the reason there was so much red hair in our lives. She had dark-red hair that fell in spiral-y curls down to her elbows—though she currently had them tacked down into a messy, messy, bun that definitely had pancake batter in it. She looked a lot like her children, though her son Philip’s hair had the same dark shade whereas Tallulah’s was more of a neon-red. The triplets also had Victoria’s hair color. The five of them had dark, emerald-green eyes. Tallulah was the only one with bright-green.

My mom and I were the only ones who didn’t match . . . and we didn’t even match each other. I wasn’t surprised my brothers had inherited the red hair. The red hair gene seemed to dominate genetics in general. But I was adopted, so I had no idea where my chestnut-brown hair came from. Or any of my traits for that matter. It wasn’t something I thought about often, yet seeing all the red hair in one room triggered it.

The boys squealed and ripped through the kitchen like a tornado.

Victoria sighed and shook her head. “Boys, boys, boys.”

“Grandma, grandma, grandma,” Bradyn imitated her.

“We’re not boys, ” Brandon hissed and pointed to his eye patch. “We’re pirates!”

“Oh, sorry. Pirates, ” Victoria winked at them. “Where’s your father? Go wake him up.”

Two of them sped back up the stairs, but Brantley climbed up on a stool next to her. “Grandma, I wanna stay and help.”

“Thank you.” She kissed the top of his head, then turned to us and smiled. “Good morning, Tallulah. Collins. How’s everything?”

Tallulah gave her mother two thumbs-up. “Fine.”

I tossed my hair over my shoulder and nodded. “Totally cool. Everything is fine.”

“Very convincing.” She arched one dark-red eyebrow and smirked. “Sure it is. Your brother is still asleep, though I doubt for much longer once the scent of my omelets reach his room.”

I groaned. “Wait, I thought you were making pancakes?”

Victoria grinned. “Just making sure you’re paying attention.”

Brantley gasped. “Grandma, can I have chocolate chips in mine?”

She nodded. “They’re in the pantry. Go get them for me?”

He skipped into the pantry and out of sight, but we still heard whatever random song he was singing.

I frowned and glanced around. “Where’s my mom?”

“Still sleeping.” Victoria flipped a pancake while giving us the side-eye. “I woke to her text that you two stumbled in here wasted?—”

“Sober,” we both said at the same time.

I sighed. “I wish it was just drunkenness.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “That’s not comforting news for your mother to hear.”

I scrubbed my face with my hands. “It was . . . something.”

“Well, something is something we want to hear about—if it brought you here at such an hour.” She grabbed an apple and tossed it at Tallulah. “Well, whatever the cause, it’s nice to see you both. It’s been too long since you came home.”

Tallulah took a bite out of the apple, then wrapped her arms around her mother’s shoulders. “Hi, Mah. Sorry, we’ve been busy.”

“And it’s gonna stay that way.” She chuckled and then pointed to the pantry where Brantley was still search for chocolate chips. “They’ve been up since before dawn, plotting out their day with you two—since you promised you’d play with them today. So, fair warning, you’ve got your hands full today. You might want to take a moment and prepare. Especially since the adults have questions.”

Tallulah cursed. “Okay, bro. Let’s take a walk and wake up. Clear our minds. Then we can?—”

“Corroborate your story?” Victoria chuckled. She flicked her hand and a little pancake batter splashed on the counter. “Go on. I hear movement upstairs already.”

My mind went back to last night. Lilian. The fainting. Him. The dream. Tallulah grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the door, so I let her. We stepped out the front door and bright sunshine pierced my eyes. I hissed and threw my hands up.

“So, bro. What are we gonna tell them?”

I groaned. “About which thing?”

“You two,” an unfamiliar female voice bit out. It sounded like sharp glass.

I gasped and stopped short. Tallulah grabbed my arm. Tally’s eyes were always better in the sunlight, so it took my eyes a second to focus on the woman standing a few feet in front of us. Tallulah growled deep in her throat. The woman was entirely unfamiliar to me. She was average height with short, straight blonde hair. The big black sunglasses covered most of her face and the beige trench coat went all the way down to her knees.

I liked her sparkly ballet flats, but I still didn’t know who she was, and the energy rolling off her was violent. “Who are you?”

She huffed and put her arms on her hips. “I’m Joan.”

“Because that’s relevant?” Tallulah chuckled. “Who are you? And what do you want?”

“I’m Joan Gordon.” Joan pulled her sunglasses off and rolled her eyes. “You’d know me if your mother bothered to involve herself in the community?—”

“What?” I frowned and then looked around. This woman had rolled up on us like a guard dog, ready to attack, and it made no sense. “What are you here for? You’re literally two steps from our front porch.”

“Wait a second . . .” Tallulah pursed her lips. “Gordon? Like, Lilian Gordon?”

“I’m her mother, and I’m here to let you know I reported you both to the Vaunteros, so they’ll be looking for you.” She shoved her sunglasses back on and held her chin high. “That is, unless the cops find you first. I didn’t tell them your names when they asked, but your faces were on the security cameras, so they’re bound to find you.”

My breath left me in a rush.

Without another word, Joan spun and marched back to the little white sedan idling on the curb. My pulse beat frantically. She was Lilian’s mother. She knew what happened last night. She was in the car and speeding away down the street before either Tallulah or I collected ourselves.

“What the hell was that?” Tallulah whispered under her breath.

“Okay . . . hold on . . .” I shoved my hands into my hair. “She knows. She told the cops.”

We looked to each other, then turned and hurried back inside at the same time.

The moment we stepped back inside the front door, three pairs of eyes snapped up to us. Wait. Three. Shit. My mom and stepdad Philip had come down and were in the kitchen with Victoria. The open floor plan gave them a perfectly clear view of us. They took one look and their faces fell.

“What’s wrong?” Philip growled.

Mom put her hand on his arm and gave me a little smile. “Talk to us, girls.”

I pushed my hair back and hurried over to sit on the barstool in front of them. “Everything is not fine.”

“Nope.” Tallulah took the stool beside me. “Not okay.”

All three of them exchanged nervous glances, then turned back to us and nodded.

“Just tell us,” Mom said softly.

Tallulah opened her mouth but then shut it. “Bro, you do it.”

I took a deep breath and then launched into the story of the day before. I told them everything—from our normal after school Friday afternoon routine to our not normal party at Lilian’s parents’ apartment at the Sapphire. I made sure to be extra detailed on the parts about the new purses, trying on the shoes and then the mad dash to flee the apartment. Tallulah pitched in here and there if I left out any details, while our parents listened silently and calmly.

“So . . .” Mom licked her lips and sat her coffee mug down. “Is that why you came home last night?”

“Yes . . . and no?” I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. “A few hours later at work, I kind of . . . randomly and for no obvious reason . . . fainted.”

Their eyes widened.

“She wasn’t drugged, and we weren’t drunk.” Tallulah held her hands up. “She was standing right next to me and then just went down. So, we decided it was best to just come home in case it happened again.”

They nodded.

Tallulah had totally skipped over the part at our own apartment where I thought I saw a person flying outside our tenth-floor balcony. Or the part about this crystal necklace appearing on me through a dream. If she left those out, then I sure as hell was going to do the same. The rest was enough to unload on them. If I saw the guy again, be it hallucination or real, then I’d broach the subject. And the necklace . . . I wanted to talk to Lilian before I spoke or even accepted the crazy theory I had.

Tallulah took a sip of coffee from her mother’s mug, then sat it down. “Who are the Vaunteros?”

I gasped. “Oh my God. Maybe they’re the people whose apartment we were in?”

My mom narrowed her eyes, and it sent a chill down my spine.

“Maybe we should go give them their stuff back and tell them what happened? Maybe we won’t get in trouble?”

“Bro.” I arched one eyebrow at her. “You know damn well we’ll still get in trouble. We were in their house. I’d be mad if I were them.”

She threw her hands up. “I’m trying here.”

“We can’t go to the cops either, because that’s basically confessing to anything the others probably stole.”

“So, what do we do?”

I leaned my elbows on the counter. “We need a lawyer.”

Tallulah scoffed. “With what money? Or are we selling what we stole?”

“No, we’re giving those back. I’m just saying we can find a lawyer?—"

“Oh wait!” Tallulah snapped her fingers twice then pointed to me. “I hooked up with a lawyer over the summer.”

Vic shook her head. “Just what a mother wants to hear.”

Philip sighed. “Please don’t continue that story.”

My mother’s gaze was far, far away. I did not like it.

I looked back to my best friend and saw the gears moving in her eyes too. “He wasn’t a real lawyer, he’d just graduated law school.”

“No, he passed his bar exam last month—oh right, I hooked up with him then too. To celebrate, ya know?” She winked at her brother.

Victoria shook her head. “Tallulah.”

Finally, my mom shook herself out of whatever haze she’d slipped under. She gave me a smile I knew was forced. “Don’t worry about Joan. We’ll take care of that. You two just go to work tonight and stay out of trouble. If the cops come for you, don’t say a single thing. Just call me, and I’ll handle it. Now . . . tell me what happened at your apartment last night before you came here.”

I gasped.

“Paulie called this morning. He went by your place to check on you—because he says Sean dropped you at home—and you weren’t there. He was worried. I assured him you were both here.” Mom leaned forward and sat her coffee mug down. “So, tell me why you left your apartment to sneak back home in the middle of the night.”

“I just felt . . . weird. Off.”

“And we had no food.”

Mom stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Sure. I suppose I’ll believe that for now, since it is early. I want you to take it easy today. Just play with your brothers and then go to work tonight. No alcohol. And you’re to tell me the moment anything else happens or if you feel any other symptoms. Promise?”

I nodded. “Promise.”

Even though I’m already breaking that promise.