The Rush (The Siren Series) - By Rachel Higginson Page 0,66
everything of value from my little sister.
In two years, when I graduated high school and finally had the access to the trust I needed, Honor would be thirteen. She would be old enough to understand somewhat of went on in my world and why she needed to stay away. As long as she believed me, as long as Smith kept his umbrella of protection firmly over her, she would be safe.
Besides, by then I would have run out of time. At eighteen I could no more protect Honor than I could myself. I would be an adult, fully responsible to the circle, fully in the custody of Nix.
I allowed myself one long shudder of fear, reminding myself of my goal and why I needed to deny Smith any help he offered. And then I joined my sister on the couch. I would relish this time with her, cherish it and adore her. My freedom had a countdown clock attached to it, but so did my relationship with my sister.
I guess it was true what they said, you couldn’t have it all.
Or, in my case, any of it.
Chapter Eighteen
Monday morning was the worst mornings of all. And this particular Monday morning was worse than most. The sky was overcast and cloudy, dripping with freezing rain that reminded everyone winter was close. The trees were almost completely bare, save for the last golden leaf that hung on, desperate not to die. The sidewalks were drenched with puddles and mud. And Central High loomed above me, void of even shadows this morning.
The building usually beamed like a beacon of refined beauty. Once the state capital building, it had sharp lines and aristocratic architecture. It stood directly next door to the gleaming white and pink marble of the Joslyn Art Museum and together the buildings were joined in aged beauty. They broke up the cold, heartless skyscrapers of downtown and forced sprawling lawns in an otherwise jungle of concrete and stone.
“I suppose I should go inside, huh?” I grumbled inside the warmth of Exie’s car.
“Do you want an umbrella?” Exie asked around a sip of her latte.
“Do you have one?” I turned back around to face her.
“Uh, no.” She shook her head causing her golden hair to shake out around her shoulders. Her blue eyes contorted into confusion.
“Then why did you ask if I wanted one?” I laughed. Exie had this incredible ability to take my mind off my problems and forget myself for a while.
“It just felt right.”
“It just felt right?” I repeated and mashed my lips together before I could ask any more questions. This conversation was not headed anywhere logical.
“Yep,” she grinned at me. “Who’s that with your boy toy?” Suddenly her expression was serious, scheming.
I followed her gaze and then worked at trying to swallow. “Uh, that’s Ryder Sutton.”
“Mmm,” she purred.
“Yeah, isn’t he all clichéd bad boy?” I tried to joke, tried to hide the notes of panic that were racing through me, pounding at my heart, tightening the bones that caged my lungs into vice grips of jealousy….
“Sure,” Exie agreed without paying much attention to me at all. “I’ll walk you in, yeah?”
Crap.
Honesty was so not my thing.
“Hey, Ex, he uh, it’s not that he’s off limits or anything, but he kind of has a girlfriend,” I explained weakly.
“I guess that’s not surprising,” she murmured. “He’s delicious.”
I laughed, unable to stop myself. “Is he a boy or a candy bar?”
“Maybe both?” Exie laughed too and then silence fell between us for two beats. “Ives, if you want him, just say so. You can trust me, you know? Besides, I was mostly just admiring from a distance anyway.”
I smiled at my friend because she really was a friend. Somehow I had thought our relationship completely a design of the cosmos without any real attachment, except for a kind of predatory protection for each other since we were going through the same thing. We were more though. There was an actual foundation to our friendship, real love between us.
It was the first time in my life I had been loved. Truly, deeply, genuinely loved. Even if it was all in the friendship form, I realized how rare those emotions directed at me were. And I drank them in; I closed my eyes and let them settle over me.
“No, it’s not that. He’s just different. He doesn’t seem even a little bit fazed by me. He’s like Smith. He sees through it all,” I explained.