Timepiece (Hourglass #2)

Timepiece (Hourglass #2) Page 39

“Maybe things have changed.” Lily didn’t want to believe her.

“Do you think your father works for them because he wants to? The government forces him to work for them, or the highest bidder, and then he watches money go into the pockets of others.” Abi’s voice got louder and louder. “What do you think these men would do if they could double their intake? What makes you think you’d be treated well, alone on a boat with so many men?”

The thought made my skin crawl. I leaned closer to Lily, resting my arm on the back of her chair.

Abi stared at me for a moment before turning her attention back to her granddaughter. “It’s not like it is here. It’s not the same.”

“I understand that, and I’m so grateful for all you’ve given up for me.” Lily paused, trying to gain control of her emotions. She wasn’t having a lot of luck. “But I need you to understand that what I’m asking to do could make the difference between life and death—”

“No.” The force behind Abi’s answer wasn’t just strong, it was harsh. I could tell Lily wasn’t used to being spoken to that way, the same way I could tell Abi wasn’t used to Lily challenging her.

“Fine.” Lily stood, crossed the kitchen, and took her bag and jacket from the peg by the front door. “I’ll be home for dinner.”

“You no longer ask permission?”

I hated the hurt I felt between them, wished I could erase it and make everything right.

“May I leave?” She didn’t meet her grandmother’s eyes. “With Kaleb?”

Abi looked at me. “You care for my granddaughter?”

“Yes, ma’am.” More than care.

“Then you will not let her do anything that would put her at risk?”

“No, ma’am, I won’t.” I stood up. “I promise.”

“Fine, then.” Her eyes were dull. “I love you, Lily.”

Lily didn’t say a word as we walked out the front door.

Chapter 35

We strolled.

I’d never really taken a leisurely trip around downtown Ivy Springs, and definitely not with a girl. Lily’s spikes of emotion told me that she was processing all the things her grandmother had told her. I knew that when she was ready to talk, I’d be the one to listen. She trusted me.

That pleased me in ways I couldn’t explain.

A pumpkin carving contest took up most of the town square. People were everywhere, spilling out from cafés and sitting on benches. I didn’t want to be in a crowd and neither did Lily, so we ended up at Sugar High, a candy shop decorated like a high school hallway. Pep rally and prom ticket posters decorated the wall, there was even the occasional announcement over the loudspeaker. The locker doors were clear and showcased row after row of any candy imaginable. I was currently making my way through a half pound of Atomic Fireballs. Lily watched, drinking mint hot chocolate.

“She loves you,” I finally said.

“Of course she does. She sacrificed her life, her family, her homeland, just to bring me here. To keep me safe.”

I gathered up the empty wrappers on the table and leaned my chair back to drop them into the closest trash can. “There’s not an ounce of regret in her, Tiger. She’d do it a hundred times over.”

“I know that, too.” She stared off into space, twisting the Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate around in her hands. I jumped when she slammed it down so hard on the table the contents sloshed over the sides. “But she’s still forbidding me to use my ability. This whole thing blows.”

A mom shot Lily a mean look and covered her son’s ears before scuttling him to the other side of the store.

“Abi’s not being reasonable,” she said a few seconds later, wiping the spilled hot chocolate up and shoving the dirty napkin in her cup. “She knows how important it is to me, or I wouldn’t have asked. She knows how much I care about Em, and I told her how I feel about you—”

“Me?”

“I … I mean, about how I felt … like finding Jack was the right thing to—”

“No.” I grinned. I couldn’t help it. “You told your grandmother how you feel about me. How do you feel about me?”

“We’ve already established that I don’t like you.” Her voice was haughty, but her heart wasn’t in it. She sighed. “You’re exactly the kind of boy my grandmother has always warned me to avoid.”

“‘Boy?’” I sat up straighter, sticking out my chest. “What kind of man would I be, exactly?”

“A temptation.” She threw her cup at the trash can, sinking an impressive three pointer.

“Like the snake in the Garden of Eden?”

“No. More like the apple.”

“The apple?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Eve never considered taking a bite out of the snake.”

When I realized my mouth was hanging wide open, I shut it. “Okay.”

“Back on task.” She banged her fist on the table, like a judge calling a courtroom to attention. “Why haven’t you asked me to break Abi’s rule?”

I tried to refocus. “Your level of respect for her, and how much she adores you. I think because of the life she gave up, you feel you owe her. You only owe her your well-being.”

Lily stood up, dissecting the statement as we walked outside to continue our stroll. “How do I owe her for my well-being?”

“Parents, grandparents, whoever—they do what they can to keep us safe. Sometimes that involves secrets.” My dad kept the Infinityglass from me because my mom had forbidden it. He’d left Memphis to protect us, as well as his interests. He served as a guardian to every person he’d researched. By letting Jack Landers get away with Dad’s personal files, I’d failed to protect the very same people. “Abi thought she was doing the right thing by keeping the truth from you, she honestly did, and you know I know.”

“You sound very mature.”

I shrugged. “What she said about your dad and the people he works for made me realize how bad things could be if you went back to Cuba. She’s not just scared that could happen, she’s bone-deep terrified.”

So was I.

“And you don’t feel the same way about what could happen to you? To your dad?”

“We still have some time. We’ll find another way.” I didn’t even want to think about putting Lily in danger. It twisted my stomach into knots. “So. I’m an apple, huh? The apple of your eye?”

“Kaleb.” She stopped walking and her cheeks turned bright pink. “I’m uncomfortably aware that you know how I feel right now.”

“I do?”

Hope. Anticipation. Uncertainty.

“Yeah, I do,” I admitted. My heart sped up in my chest. “But I try not to rely on my … ability in situations where a misread could be fatal.”

“Fatal?”

I was losing cool points so fast I was running into negative numbers. “What if I read you wrong?”

“Pretty sure that won’t happen.” Her expression was as direct as her words. “I was thinking about something last night right before I fell asleep. When people feel emotions, you feel them, too. So it’s a … mutual experience kind of thing?”