Page 63 of Furious
Zara blushes. “They totally think that. Your dad told us to be careful, and he sounded so weird that I swear I was afraid he was going to give Lev a box of condoms.”
I bark out a laugh. “You have no idea how possible that scenario really was. He gave us…” I almost mention Atlas, but I don’t want to talk about him. Not yet. “He gave me condoms before prom. He did the same thing with Chance and Lev.”
Zara sighs. “I already had that conversation with my mom the other day, after Lev and I fell asleep in his room. She knows I’m covered with birth control. Speaking to her was embarrassing enough. I hope she tells Scott that we don’t need his help.”
Lev chuckles, shaking his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it too much. Scott means well. You aren’t a part of the family until he’s given you a box of condoms.”
She punches his bicep, but there’s no heat in it. “If he gives me condoms, I’m never going to be able to look at him again.”
“Anyway kids,” Lev pulls her into a hug and kisses her the same way I just did a second ago. “You know where to find me if you need me. I wouldn’t wander around town too much, because if someone we know sees you together, our cover is gonna be blown.”
It makes perfect sense. “Don’t worry,” I reassure him. “I know exactly where Dad is going to be today.”
We watch Lev drive off in comfortable silence.
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” Zara asks once his car is no longer in sight.
“If it wasn’t broad daylight, I would really suspect you’re a vampire. You’re obsessed with being invited in.” I tease.
Zara glares at me. “FYI, not all vampires are forced to hide from sunlight. Some of them are day walkers. In some stories they use magic rings, in others they use special spells to enchant specific places or even put tempered glass in their windows to block the UV rays and being able to move around their houses during the day.”
“Which one are you?” I chuckle.
“Shut up, Ares.”
Her glare is so cute that I stop ribbing her. “I’m not inviting you in, because we aren’t staying.”
I take her hand, leading her to the jeep parked in my assigned spot. “Word on the street is that someone passed her driving test.” I give her the keys. “Wanna drive?”
The smile on her face is just what I need on a difficult day like today. “Really?”
I shrug. “You’ve already driven the jeep, and we made it home in one piece.”
“Where are we going?”
I open the driver’s door for her. “We’re getting something to eat first. I’m sure you can negotiate the Jack In The Box drive through and then I’ll give you directions.”
“Ok.”
I’m a little nervous about this little day trip, but it’s something I need to do and bringing Zara with me feels right.
With breakfast in a bag on my lap, we drive through town past the hospital and the empty lot where Dad hopes to build the arena for the professional hockey team he wants to bring to Star Cove.
We pass the military base and the old lighthouse, driving to the opposite side of town from the college campus. The airport is a few miles down this road, but we don’t need to go that far.
“Turn left here, please.” I instruct her as we come into view of a road line with tall cypress trees.
There’s a lump in my throat and my palms feel clammy. I haven’t been back here in two years, since the day of Atlas’s funeral.
“Can you carry our drinks?” I ask her, grabbing the bag with the food, a folded blanket from the trunk, and another small black plastic bag.
Zara locks the car, and she follows me with the drink holder in her hand. Just before we step through the cemetery gate, she laces her fingers with mine.
I hesitate for a second, stopping to look at her. There’s no pity in her eyes. What I see tells me that bringing her here with me was the right thing to do. Her green gaze says that she’s here with me and for me.
Despite not having been back here in almost two years, my feet carry me straight to my twin brother’s gravestone. I was prepared in case I didn’t remember where he was. Last time I had taken a couple of the sedatives my therapist had prescribed me and I went through the funeral in a daze. I was so doped, it’s surprising I was able to stand upright. Just in case, I downloaded a map of the cemetery to my phone; but it turns out that muscle memory is more reliable than I thought.
Seeing his name and our date of birth carved into the gray stone feels wrong and yet so final.
