Chapter 36

Thirty-Six

ANSEL

I receive the text in chemistry.

Trying to be inconspicuous, I slip my phone out of my pocket and hold it under the lab table.

Shelby

Need you home ASAP.

Shelby

There’s been an incident.

Cold fear slithers through me like an insidious snake.

Shelby is my mother’s nurse and has been for the last few years. The only time she ever texts me is if things are bad. Really, really bad.

“Is your phone more important than my lesson, Mr. Harthorne?” Our teacher sneers down at me from the front of the classroom.

Izzy, beside me, gives me a worried look.

I try to articulate a response, but words fail me.

What explanation could I even give?

Oh, sorry. My mom is having a mental breakdown and is probably destroying the house.

I would be teased mercilessly by the other students—even more than I already am.

So instead of saying any of that, I simply blurt, “I need to go.”

Standing, I swipe everything off the table into my backpack.

Izzy’s eyebrows touch her hairline.

I’m almost meticulous about the way I organize my school supplies. Everything has its place in my backpack. Later, when I’m not consumed with worry for my mother, I’ll probably panic over how disorganized my backpack is. But not now.

“You’re not excused,” Mr. Holter says, but I ignore him and race towards the exit.

I know Mr. Holter won’t do anything to stop me. He may be a hard-ass, but I’m one of his best students. There’s a reason why I’m the top of my class and planning to go to college for pre-med. Science comes easily to me.

When I’m in the hall, I break into a run, not even caring when a few stragglers regard me curiously.

“Ansel! Ansel, wait!”

Izzy.

The pounding of her footsteps accompanies her voice.

She places a gentle hand on my arm, her touch sending an array of goose bumps throughout my body, and spins me to face her. Her brows dip in concern, and she eyes me from head to toe.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” she asks.

No, not asks. Demands. Concern undermines her voice.

“It’s… It’s my mom,” I choke out. “I just got a text from her nurse, and…”

I don’t need to finish my sentence. Izzy has met my mom. She may not necessarily understand the demons that haunt her, but she knows enough.

“Oh.” Her pink lips form a perfect O. Then her brows scrunch together. “But isn’t your car in the shop?”

“Fuck!”

I completely forgot about that. It’s why I couldn’t give Izzy a ride to school.

Perhaps I could walk. It’s not too far, if I run.

Though I can’t remember the last time I ran more than a mile…

“Izzy? Babe? Everything okay?” Emery and Ethan hurry out of the classroom as well, their backpacks slung over their shoulders and concern on their identical faces.

Belatedly, I wonder which one referred to her as “babe” and why but choose not to look at it too closely. I don’t think I’d like the answer.

Izzy ignores them and keeps her gaze on me. “They have a car here.”

What is she suggesting? That I ask the twins for a ride to my house? That I allow them to see my most shameful secret?

But what option do I have? I have no idea what’s going on. Shelby hasn’t messaged me since those first two texts.

“Would they do that for me?” I ask, running a hand through my hair.

“No,” Izzy confesses with a helpless shrug. “But they’d do it for me.”

What the hell am I getting myself into?

Emery drives like a bat out of hell. I swear I’ve gripped the “OH SHIT” handlebar more times in the fifteen-minute car ride than I ever have before in my life.

Izzy sits beside me, one of her dainty hands on my knee, the comforting weight securing me to the present. I check my phone repeatedly, almost religiously, waiting for Shelby to text me back.

Nothing.

Fuck.

Ethan glances at the two of us from the passenger seat, his expression unreadable. Both Emery and Ethan are known around the school. They’re two of the most popular guys—them and their little group of friends.

I never had any issue with them until I started pulling ahead of Ethan in our classes. Then I became public enemy number one.

I wouldn’t necessarily say they bullied me—that’s not their style—but they didn’t roll out the welcome carpet either. Ethan was put out that he was no longer at the top of our class, and Emery, of course, backed his brother. Ashton tried to “ruin me” on more than one occasion. He’s fiercely protective of his friends.

At least Reid ignored me. I’m not sure I would like to be on the bad side of such a big, scary dude.

It takes me a second too long to realize that Ethan isn’t staring at me. No, his focus is intent on Izzy’s hand still covering my knee. Her thumb has begun to move almost absently, drawing soothing circles into the material of my khakis.

I always suspected that the twins had a crush on Izzy, but this only confirms it.

Fuck.

Emery makes another sharp turn, and I slide into the window, causing Izzy to slide into me. Not that I’m complaining. I love the feel of her body molding to mine.

“Drive much?” Izzy snaps, but Emery simply laughs.

“You said you wanted to get there fast!”

“I would prefer to be alive, thank you very much.”

“As if I would let you die.” He tsks his tongue as if the mere idea is insane.

“What would you do if we crashed?” she demands.

“Obviously wrap my body around you and protect you from the impact.”

“How would you even get to me?” She folds her arms over her chest with a scowl.

“I have moves, pretty girl. Trust me.” His words are practically a purr, the salacious undertones unmistakable.

Irritation briefly burns through me, overshadowing even my fear.

What the fuck does he think he’s doing, flirting with my girl directly in front of me?

As soon as that thought comes, my cheeks burn.

Fuck.

She’s not my girl, no matter how badly I want her to be. I’m not even sure if we’ve ever technically been on a date. After all, our trip to the rage room and diner was…a hangout. Not a date.

Right?

All thoughts of Izzy and dates and obnoxious twins cease when we pull to a stop in front of my house.

When my father was still alive, we had been an upper-middle-class family, and that hasn’t changed with his death. He left a hefty life insurance sum behind for me and my mother.

The home is constructed out of white bricks and boasts over a dozen windows—all ranging in sizes—that stare out at a perfectly manicured lawn. Two pillars cradle an archway that leads to the front entrance. Potted plants line the walkway and dangle from hooks on either side of the door.

All of the lights are currently off, but that’s not necessarily a surprise. Mom often prefers to leave them off, especially when she’s feeling vulnerable. She hates the large windows—believes that there are monsters looking inside.

I once bought large blackout curtains, but that only made her more paranoid. She claimed that she would rather see the threat arrive than be surprised when it sneaks up on her.

Shelby’s car is still in the driveway, which is a good sign. It means that she didn’t need to bring my mom to the hospital.

“We can just wait out here—” Ethan begins awkwardly, but a loud crash and a startled scream interrupt him.

All of us exchange glances, then as one, we race into the house.

“Mom! Shelby!” I swivel my head from side to side as I hurry down the hallway, checking each room as I go.

The living room is empty—though I do note a broken mug on the carpeting—as is the kitchen. I take the stairs two at a time until I reach my mother’s bedroom. The door is slightly ajar.

Mom is standing on one side of the bed with Shelby on the other. Mom’s face is tear-stained, her brown cheeks tinted red. She wears a too-large sweatshirt and dirty sweatpants, her bare toes just barely sticking out of the bottom. Shivers reverberate through her as she stares at Shelby unblinkingly.

It’s only then that I notice she’s holding a knife.

Shelby hears us first and turns, relief visible on her face.

Mom spins as well, but unlike Shelby, her expression only hardens.

“You shouldn’t be home!” she screeches, brandishing her knife in the air. “You need to go away! Away! You can’t let them find you.”

“Mom. Please. Lower the knife.” I venture a tentative step into the room, my hands raised placatingly. Fear causes my heart to pound like a battering ram. I’m sure the noise is even audible from outer space. “What’s going on?”

“They’ve come for you!” More tears rain down her cheeks. “I can’t let them take you. They know. They know what you can do.”

I slyly glance at Izzy out of the corner of my eye, praying she thinks my mom’s words are nothing but nonsensical ramblings.

“Mom, please.” I take another step forward, and Ethan and Emery use the opportunity to enter the room as well.

I can tell they’re trying to appear non-threatening, but it’s hard to do. They’re both hulking men covered in tattoos.

Mom’s face drains of color. Her tears dry on her face. “You brought… You brought wolves into my house?”

Disbelief saturates her tone.

I have no idea what the hell she’s going on about this time.

Ethan and Emery both freeze and exchange a look. Izzy’s mouth parts in surprise.

“Mom, just listen. No one’s here to hurt you?—”

“ You .” Mom spins towards Izzy, raw fury etched across every line of her wrinkled face. “You did this. I told you to leave my son alone. You never should’ve come back, Delaney.”

Delaney?

“My name isn’t Delaney, Mrs. Harthorne. It’s—” Izzy doesn’t get a chance to finish her sentence.

My mother lets out a scream of pure, unbridled rage and lunges at her, the knife extended.